#since that's how long my previous boots lasted before getting holes

[immortalsins]

thought today (the second day of taking my new boots to campus) was fine and not all that injurious compared to yesterday based on how much it hurt to walk. just took off the double sock and triple tape combo. blood everywhere

[yourlocalartsonist]

ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Nine

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT I'M ALIVE AND I AM SO SORRY! It's been way too long and I'm genuinely sorry this chapter took several fucking months to make but IT'S FINALLY DONE! It ended up way longer than I intended man, I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA BE SHORT. It's my longest chapter yet fun fact. I don't even regret it really, it benefited so much from the extra effort. Hopefully the next few chapters won't take this long but I will refrain from jinxing myself again so🧍‍♀️Anyway enough blabbering, hope y'all enjoy this one ;w;

CREDIT To the MFIP Team: Thank you to @yosajaeofficial, @urlocalmj, misfortun3_ismyname (on TikTok), @chaoticspeedrun, @ramblehour and @goldanrabbit for being my lovely editors! MAN did they give this chapter a lot of polish-

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One

Disclaimer: Chapter involves verbal abuse/manipulation, harassment, gaslighting, depressive thoughts, violence, blood, mentions of a wounded limb, brief mentions of nausea, displayed anxiety, and curse words. If you're sensitive to that, scroll past and stay safe!

I rushed around my room throwing shit on as fast as I could. Not fast enough apparently, since my phone’s vibrating like it’s gonna explode.

It’s late as hell right now, but Zane insisted on meeting up. Pretty randomly at, like, 11pm on a school night. I was initially planning to reject the idea or ghost with the excuse of sleeping, but it’s been a good while since I actually did hang out with him. I know insomnia’s gonna keep me up for a bit anyway, so why the hell not? We might even have fun! Just wish he’d stop flooding my notifs like I didn't already say I was actively getting ready.

I looked in the mirror, checking to see if I was presentable enough for the outside realm. My reflection’s the same as always; for better or worse. Still the same pink dress, same green skirt, same  boots. Can’t forget the gold earrings; the only emergency asset I held onto. I don’t know what I expected. I don’t have much to work with. Guess the gloves from Donnie are new, at least. But I’m still getting… bored? A change in appearance—even a small one—might be able to fill that hole for a while. Keep me distracted.

Maybe I could do something with my hair tonight? I still have Mi’s ribbon lying here somewhere.

I ignored Zane’s digital pestering and spent a few extra minutes shuffling through drawers and boxes, eventually finding her long, white ribbon—handmade from moth silk. She wore it all the time. I barely remember her hair being fully down unless she was sleeping or about to shower. Except for that one night, of course. The night she left and was never found again. She almost did take the ribbon with her. Had her hair done up in a bun and everything, even a little fancier than usual. But she took it off once she saw me behind her, barely reflected in the mirror. She crouched down, placed it in my tiny palms, and gave me her wonderfully warm smile. It’s the last thing she left me with. The last gift she could ever give me. 

After that, the ribbon’s survived years of storage and then more years of… unconventional bullshit use. I know moth silk ain’t the weakest thing on Earth but I’ve deadass used this ribbon as a make-shift pulley system to sneak stuff into my room through the window before, some of which weighed more than me! Its got the endurance of a Nokia at this point. 

I’ve barely used the ribbon for its intended purpose, though. I mean, how could I? I’m not my mom no matter how similar we look. Maybe this is a me-thing, but I always felt wearing the ribbon would be like replacing her with myself. 

Although, I’m sure Mi would’ve loved it if I wore it. 

Using the ribbon, I tied my hair into a ponytail and styled it as a loose bow, just to see how it would look. The white tails gently draped over my back down to my hips. I never quite realized how long the ribbon was before now. I don’t look as fancy or pretty as mom did, but it’s the best I’ve got. It… it doesn’t look bad, though, I think. It actually looks kinda nice! Maybe I’ll use it a bit more often. 

My phone’s repeated buzzing snapped me out from my trance. “Alright, alright, shut up already.” I groaned. Zane’s growing impatient.

You: hey sorry I jsut finished getting ready

You: heading out the door now! :3 

Fuck doors. Sneaking out became a whole lot easier ever since I did it from my window, but he doesn’t have to know that. I can already imagine him scolding me about the dangers of dropping down from high places, even with the fire escape there. He wouldn’t be wrong, per se, but at this point I’ve handled worse. Would probably send him into cardiac arrest if he knew what I’d actually been up to these few months.

I sprinted to the spot we agreed to meet up at. Zane was already there, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets like always. 

“Salena! Hey!” He lit up like a star when he saw me, beckoning me over.

God, for a sour person, he has such a sweet smile. He’s usually so good at being intimidating and frightening. Yet the second he brings out his smile, all that built-up fear washes away like it was never there to begin with. 

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Well, I figured I could use some fresh air.” I tilted my head to the side, eyeing his fit. “You left your sweater at home?”

“Hm?” He followed my gaze to his pitch black tank top in place of the usual outfit. “Oh, right! Yeah, the weather’s too hot for a sweater tonight. Forgot I changed it, really.”

Now that I’m looking closer, his choker’s missing too. It probably didn’t match with the top. Seems like it got swapped with a black watch on his left wrist that complimented the look way more. Doesn’t matter what he pretends to be though, I know Zane pays very close attention to his appearance. He’s gotta maintain the rep of our grade’s “Pretty Boy” after all. When it comes to him, every little detail matters.

Wait a sec…

“What happened to your arm?”

I couldn’t see ‘till he turned towards me but his left arm had a deep bluish-purple bruise spread across it. It looked like it was from something long like a pipe or a bat. Either way, it was gnarly enough to worry me. 

“Oh that. It’s nothing too bad.” He shrugged.

“You kiddin’ me? It looks awful! What happened?” I carefully grabbed his arm and took a closer look at the mark. I wish Leo was here, but thankfully I’ve picked up a little medic knowledge from him so I can at least tell if a bone is broken or not.

“Hey, don’t get your feathers all fluffed! I got a little hurt rough-housing with the guys, that’s all. You know how they are.”

“Rough-housing? Or a secret murder attempt?” I was only being half sarcastic. It wouldn’t be out of character for them.

“Don’t worry! It’s really sweet of you to care, but they’d never dare hurt me on purpose! Now, on another note…“ He paused for a moment, taking a proper look at me. For a little bit, I couldn’t tell why he smirked. “Looks like someone wanted to look cute tonight, ey? You wore your hair up.”

“Huh?” I touched my hair, forgetting I changed it earlier. “Oh, um, yeah! I-I did! I thought I’d give it a try. Does it… um, you know, look too bad or weird or?…”

“No! No, it… it looks really pretty.” Oh god, that’s a relief to hear! I was so paranoid it wouldn’t suit— “I gotta ask, though.”

I caught him inching closer. I tried creating space, but quickly realized I was up against the wall again. Should’ve been more careful about that. His hand reached out, bringing back all sorts of cringe-inducing memories. He didn’t technically pin me like last time, but he tucked my bangs back behind my ear. Feeling his fingers come into contact with my skin almost feels just as nauseating, though. 

“How’d you know I had a thing for girls in ponytails?”

And fuck, he made it weird again.

“Z-Zane?”

“Yeah?…” WHY ISN’T HE GETTING THE HINT!? “You know, you always look so soft when you dress up. You just bloom.”

“…So! What are we doing tonight?” 

His smile slightly dropped, likely upset I ruined whatever moment he was trying to have. Honestly, didn’t matter to me, as shitty as that sounds. I just wanted to change the topic so he’d step back a bit. We go through this every time; this stupid ass, awkward aura. I wish it would stop happening. 

On the bright side, he did step back and redirect his focus to answering my question. On the not so bright side, his answer was a pathetic shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“Y-you… What do you mean you don’t know? I snuck out here in the middle of the night, you told me it’d be something special! You’ve gotta have something planned.”

“Honest, I don’t! I thought it was beautiful outside and it reminded me of you. Wanted to see where such a lovely night could take us. I think that’s special enough, don’t you?”

“W-Well, I mean—“

He chuckled “What’s wrong? You’re not backing out now, are you?” 

I may have praised his smile earlier, but right now it’s making my eye twitch. I’m a little peeved knowing he brought me out here for shits and giggles when I could’ve at least been resting in bed, replenishing some of my energy. I know I don’t have the best sleeping habits, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get tired from the constant action going on! I don’t even know how long he’s gonna keep me hostage for! But… he’s also right that it’d be kinda shitty to bail now. Besides, I’m already out here so…

I guess all that’s left to do is suck it up and try to make the best of it. 

“Well, do you wanna… go for a walk or something?”

“Sounds perfect to me! Come on, hold my hand, Dove.”

For someone who supposedly didn’t have a plan, he sure took an awful lot of charge during that walk. He suggested we go to Central Park and practically dragged me there despite my common sense screaming to never go to that hellspawn at night. Although, I can’t complain too much. The park’s definitely the best place to see the stars, and tonight had clear skies! He made sure to keep a tight grip on me in case we ran into any classic New York weirdos anyway, so I should probably be less tense. I guess I got used to the guaranteed safety of having literal ninjas around me, I forgot what it was like hanging out with a regular person. 

On top of that, Zane seemed really happy! Happier than I’ve seen him in a while, actually. He was giddily pointing out any interesting greenery we saw and rambling random facts he knew about them. 

Even later, when we went and dined inside a relatively fancy restaurant, all he could focus on was the different plants they chose as decor. He’s such a huge nature geek, but he’d never let anyone know. Zane’s the type of guy to get 100% on a biology test and shamefully shove it in his backpack to avoid being labeled as a nerd. Being a nerd myself, I think it’s pretty cool, so I never understood it. But either way, I’m glad he feels safe around me. I’m glad he doesn’t hide around me.

I forgot about this side of him, I really did. The side that is my friend.

We were walking back to my place, taking in the bliss of the quiet night. Even if a part of me prefers the busier, noisy parts of the city, it’s really soothing to experience the calmer sides of it too. Everything about tonight feels nearly perfect. I’m surprised nothing ruined it. I’m debating if I could ruin it…

I really want to talk to him. I wanna bring up those photos, get some answers, put my strange emotions to rest once and for all. I wanna hear it from him that neither of them meant to hurt me. That this was just my mind screwing me over again. I need to know. I really need to know. 

You know, friends are supposed to lend a shoulder when you need it.

I don’t want to ruin the night. But friendship takes risks sometimes. That’s what shows its strength, right?

I take a deep breath and go for the leap of faith.

“So, I was wondering—” “Salena, I wanted to ask—” 

I really gotta work on my timing for these things.

“S-Sorry! You go first.”

He shook his head with a delicate smile. “Nah, it’s okay. You can go.”

“Are you sure? I-I mean it’s kinda complicated…”

“Yeah, I’m sure! I always love hearing you talk, anyway.” 

“O-okay then, well…” My hands balled up into determined fists and I looked him right in the eyes. I have to put an end to this or I’ll never be able to move on. “I’ll be real, it might be a weird question.But you’re my friend and I really trust you a lot. I… I have to know this, so please don’t get mad.”

“Yeah…?” Why did he have to lean in closer…

I came this far, I’m not letting my tongue shut me up again. 

“What’s going on with you and Jaiden?”

Immediately his demeanor changed. His posture slouched, the disappointment clear as day on his face. “Jaiden? You’re—you’re really thinking about… about them, now?” 

“Yes, b-but I want to stop! That’s why I need to ask you this, so please bear with me, Zane.”

He leaned back with a hand on his hip, the other covering his face as he exhaled. “And here I was getting my hopes up for nothing.”

He would never think that I heard him; Zane’s a good whisperer. Unfortunately, my hearing rivals it.

He looked at me again; his eyes didn’t feel the same. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

I felt my stomach twist into itself. My chest began to ache. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was about to hurl.

It’s okay. Friends get a little upset at each other all the time. Doesn’t mean they’ll break apart. Don’t be a coward, Salena. 

I told him about everything. The canceled plans, Jaiden’s distant behavior, the increase in their pics together on his Instagram. I vented about how frustrated I felt with seeing them spend so much time together and then completely ignore me. And then vented some more about how frustrated I felt from that frustration, how I knew it was wrong yet couldn’t help it seeping into my everyday life! I let out a lot of steam tonight, even things I didn’t plan on telling him. The only things I left out, honestly, were anything related to the turtles to hide their identity. And to avoid any irrelevant questions.

He seemed strangely chipper hearing all of this, a curiously amused smirk plastered on his face. Not the reaction I expected, but I guess it’s better than him flipping out like I thought he would. 

“So, if I’m getting this right, you see me and Jaiden hanging out more often and it actually bothers you?”

“I don’t want it to but yeah, it bothers me a whole fucking lot. It’s taken over my life and I hate it! I hate being jealous! It’s so—“ 

“You’re jealous!? You’re jealous! Oh man, I can’t believe I am living in the same timeline where the Salena Moni is experiencing jealousy like every. Average. Lowlife. Person!” 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and rub it in, why dontcha? That helps me so much.” I pouted.

He laughed, enjoying my misery. “I know, I’m sorry. Just, damn! Somewhere, pigs are flying aren’t they?” If Meat Sweats could fly, I’d be his murderous Cupid.

“Har har. I get it though. I mean, you know me! I’ve felt envious before, but jealous? How does anyone even deal with this…?” I held myself a little tighter.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Dove. It happens! Everyone gets a little jealous. It’s a normal thing to go through, Salena.”

“Yeah, I sure did want a normal life, so I guess I got what I wished for.” I can’t help feeling salty over all this. 

He only laughed and patted my hair, fluffing up the ponytail a little. 

“Hey, Zane? For the sake of my psyche, you sure I’m not a bad person for this?”

A tender sigh rang through my ears. “I’m sure. You could never be a bad person, Salena.” 

…I never realized a husky voice like his could feel so honeyed.

But he’s right. I’m not a bad person, I’m just human. If both him and Raph said the same thing, it’s more likely to be true.

“And for the record, Jaiden and I are just friends right now. There’s nothing going on between us, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Uh… Cool? I… might be a little lost here. Why are you telling me that?”

“Reassurance, obviously.”

I blinked, not really getting it or knowing how to respond. He thought for a moment, then had a face of realization while he giggled.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re actually that innocent! You’re so cute, I swear!” He booped my nose and leaned in again with a huge smile. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “You’re jealous because you have a crush.” 

A crush?

“But why would I have a crush on Jaiden?” 

“I’m just saying—Wait, rewind. A crush on Jaiden?” He physically paused for a bit before awkwardly laughing. “No, sweetie, you don’t get jealous of your crush, you get jealous of the people they’re with!”

“That’s why I’m asking. Why would I have a crush on Jaiden?”

…Why does the air feel colder all of a sudden? 

The night was warm just a minute ago, but now it’s dead like the core of winter. His smile is long gone. His eyes, they’re slicing me in half. Is my breathing a little faster? He’s coming closer. I’m suddenly aware of just how alone we really are here in this silent little street. 

“To be clear. Who are you jealous of.”

My throat clogged up. I blinked and lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears being fought back. I forgot this side of him, too. The side that made my heart close in on itself.

“Salena, don’t make me ask twice.”

“Of you.” I managed to let out. “J-jealous of you.”

He wouldn’t speak for a while. Only felt him staring me down like a predator stalking its prey, making me swallow to keep my throat from drying up. My hands felt so clammy, begging me to wipe them on my skirt. But I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t even look at him right now.

“Of fucking course you are.”

I knew it was coming, but I still flinched when he cursed with no shame, tugging his hair and punching the wall next to me. It’s stupid, isn’t it? I can handle giant mutants and a literal cult of evil, but Zane’s temper was not something to be messed with, and my unlucky ass did exactly that.

“Why did I ever expect anything different! Of course it’s me you’re jealous of! Why the fuck would you phrase it like that if you meant something else, god dammit!”

You’re gonna bleed if you keep doing that…

“Z-Zane, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think it’d come off as me being jealous of Jaiden—“

“OBVIOUSLY, IT FUCKING WOULD!!!” He grabbed my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. I don’t know if it’d be an exaggeration to say I nearly got a panic attack from the action alone. 

“When you say things like how you’re jealous of how much time Jaiden and I spend together, of course I think you’re jealous of them, not me! Why would I ever assume it was me! That never happens with anyone else! God, you’re such a fucking moron sometimes, I swear!” 

“I'm sorry… P-please stop…”

“After everything we’ve fucking been through, everything I did for you! All you can ever do is somehow relate me back to Jaiden! There’s always someone else! I mean nothing to you, Salena! Don’t I!? I! Mean! Nothing!”

“I-I didn’t mean to, I promise—”

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER, IDIOT!”

He let go and pushed me back. Sometimes I overlook how much bigger Zane is compared to me. This is not one of those times. 

“You know what? You know what’s funny, Salena? That night you’re so fucking fixated on, the one that’s consumed your ability to even think like a normal person? Yeah, I’ve got some news about that night.” 

I just want to disappear…

“I asked Jaiden to go with me to that shitty party on purpose!”

…

What?

“I asked them on purpose, I posted those pictures on purpose! I did everything ‘cause I knew you’d see it! I thought maybe then, for once, you’d finally, finally feel a single ounce of longing for me! That was all I wanted!”

What.

“…You better be lying, Zane.”

“I’m not. And you deserve this.”

I glared at him the entire time while he was too focused on his own bullshit words to even notice. My arms burned with the sensation of my nails digging deeper and deeper. I hope they'll draw blood.

“You don’t understand, Salena! You keep saying all these… all these stupid fucking things that no one else says to me! Do you know what it does to me? If I had my way, I’d hold you forever and never let you go. No one’s shown me kindness like you.”  I was so numb I couldn’t even react to him caressing my cheek. Only kept glaring. 

“But then you barely ever give me the time of day! You’re barely ever with me! Fuck, honestly, you’re never with me anymore! I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not like you to say one thing and do another! You’re not that type of two-faced asshole! So why are you fucking acting like one!? Ever since that day you went to ‘hang out’ with that stupid drugged-out bitch you called a friend, you’ve never been the fucking same! With the way you act, I wouldn’t be fucking surprised if you got addicted and stay on the high 24/7!”

He’s… Is he talking about Mikey? That’s what this is about? Is he fucking serious right now.

“Who are you!? Where is my Salena?” 

“Did you know Jaiden and I had plans that day?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not stupid, I wasn’t gonna go that far. I wanted you to get a taste of what it felt to not be chosen, that’s it! Obviously, it was dumb to think it would work!” The dumb bitch sighed, exasperated. As if he had any right to be. “Seems you don’t have room for me in that big heart of yours after all, huh? Maybe I’m a dick for saying this, but it’s honestly karma that I happened to choose the one day you two were gonna hang out. That’s gotta be a sign, Salena.”

You never get the fucking hint, do you Zane Evans?

“I need to go.”

I couldn’t even get two steps in before he gripped my wrist to stop me.

“Wait, what do you mean go? Go where?”

“I meant exactly what I said! I’ve had enough. Now let go of me.”

I yanked my arm back and stormed off, Zane following close behind. At least, judging from the sound he was. I didn’t bother looking back. 

“Hey! Your place is in the opposite direction!”

“Stop following me, I can go wherever I want!”

“Salena, seriously!? It’s already late, you’re gonna get lost! Come on, are you really that pissed off—”

“YES!!!”

I turned my heel and faced him.

“How are you even unsure of that!? You got upset I hung out with someone else for one day—a person I made plans with in advance, might I add—and you decided to take revenge on me!? Do you have any clue how fucked up that is!?”

“I got a little mad! So what? You’ve known me for two years! Stop overreacting about a harmless dig!”

“Harmless!? You have no idea what I’ve gone through this past month because of your little ‘harmless’ stunt! I’ve suffered so much because of you! I can’t even sleep because of you! God, sometimes you’re so—Ugh!”

I began counting down from ten to one, just like Raph taught. I shouldn’t say something I’ll regret later. Honestly, I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

He looked like a sad puppy. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting this. But somehow, my sympathy won’t halt my anger tonight.

“Salena, I… Look, I didn’t know you’d be so sensitive over this—“

“Zane, I really need to leave. I’m sorry I exploded like that, but it’s gonna happen again if I stay here any longer. So please, just stop following me. Hurting you would add more shit to my plate and I really don’t need that right now, okay?” 

“N-no! Stay! I can make it up to you!”

“Another day, any day, but not now! Not now.”

I walked away and this time he didn’t follow. 

“…Fine.”

I heard his footsteps stomp in the other direction, slowly fading away.

My own legs went faster till the wind consumed me. 

The anger returned almost instantly after I knew he left. I’m happy I kept my cool during the end back there but holy fucking shit! What was he thinking!? I wanted answers tonight but I didn’t expect this! I thought I was overthinking again! I thought my brain made up the possibility that they ditched me intentionally! But no, turns out it wasn’t just Jaiden but Zane, too! What the fuck did I do to them? What did he mean I “deserved it”!? 

I don’t get it, what is he expecting me to do? I know he… feels a certain way about me. But even then! I can’t just shit romantic feelings for him out my ass! 

Ugh, so fucking stupid. I’m gonna lose my head if I keep thinking about this.

I wandered around the city some more and got back to the main road where a good handful of cars were passing again. It’s past 1am now and I’ve gotta get ready for school in less than five hours. But I know damn well I won’t sleep, not after this. I don’t wanna go home. Take me anywhere but home. I don’t feel like facing any of this right now, I…

I want somewhere I can feel safe for a while, just so the day won’t end on such a horrible note.

I pulled out my phone and opened the contacts. I wish I was one of those folks who didn’t have to think of someone before they dialed but alas, here I am. 

I can’t talk to Jaiden. 

I obviously can’t talk to Zane.

I don’t know if I can tell Casey any of this yet.

I’d love to talk to April but she’s probably asleep by now. But… but the guys might not be! They’re usually up at these sort of freakish hours of the night. I could try giving the group chat a call and hope for the best. I feel bad for bothering them so often but who else do I have right now?

It took three rings before the line went through.

“You are conversing with Donatell—Why is your screen so dark?” 

Oh fucking lovely.

“H-hey, Donnie. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a video call.”

As my luck would have it, Donnie was the one to pick up. No offense to him; he never did anything wrong. I’m just not entirely sure how he feels about me yet. So, having him answer when I’m already high on nerves isn’t what I pictured hoping for the best would result in. But he’s much, much better than being alone right now.

“Uh, what… Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, simply being my usual genius self to aid with our nightly hero duties! Sure, no regular teenager could detect a break-in on sensitive confidential info before the actual government could, but I, Othello Von Ryan, have proven to be no regular teen!” 

“Yep, definitely the usual for you.” 

Donnie’s def no less than Leo when it comes to being allergic to humility. Though, they both earned their egos. Donnie’s not wrong; not just any person could be nearly as smart as him.

“So, did you need anything fixed? You’re calling at a rather unusual hour for a school night.” 

“Oh, no, not really. I mean, I was kinda out with a friend, but things… ended abruptly. I don’t really feel like sleeping right now. I wanted some company?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but got interrupted by a familiar accent asking who was on the phone. The instant my name left his voice, three others repeated it with joy. My screen suddenly overflowed with four green goofballs all trying to fit in the camera’s scope at once.

“SALENA! How are you? How come you’re not asleep? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Mikey, it’s Salena, it’s way too early for them to sleep.”

“Wow, Leo, anyone ever tell you how funny you are?” My words didn’t match my tone. I wonder why.

“Leo, let ‘er breathe!” The camera shook as a red bandana came into frame. “Hey, but for real. Why you up so late, Salena? Somethin’ up?”

“Nah, just couldn’t sleep! I thought I’d call you guys for a bit, but from the sounds of it, y’all seem kinda busy.” 

The camera moved again as the device got transferred to the next turtle. “Give me my—Ugh, there we go. And yes, you’re correct. We are actually busy with a mission tonight.” 

I tried keeping my smile intact as I understandingly nodded my head. Is he mad at me for assuming they were free the exact moment I needed them to be? I mean, I’d be mad at me, so it’d make sense.

“Hey, but you know what?” Leo leaned next to Donnie, trying to see the screen. “You should totally join us! Tag along, have some fun, we’d all love that!”

You would?

“What? Nardo, what are you—“

“OMIGOSH, YEAH!” Mikey jumped in, knocking Donnie out of frame entirely. “If you’re not gonna sleep, we should totally hang out! I really miss you, Salena!” 

“Uh, am I really the only one thinking it would be a bad idea to let the person who barely leaves their house join us on a mission to a highly-secured and regulated government facility?”

“Chillax, Don, she’ll be fine! You’ll be fine, right Salena?”

“I mean, uh—” 

“See? What’d I tell ya, totally fine!” 

“Raph agrees! Salena can handle herself.” 

“Oh sure, I’m absolutely positive nothing could go wrong! He said without a trace of doubt.”

…I can’t tell if he’s trying to protect me or just doesn’t want me there. Neither option feels good right now, to be honest.

“C’mon, Dee, we’ve all seen her fight before! Including you, remember? When they helped us stop Meat Sweats?”

 Mikey’s got a point. That was before I had any real battle experience, too! I don’t know why Donnie seems so hesitant about this. Or why it’s making me so pissy, actually.

Another car passed by and I lowered the volume a bit, remembering the time. Now that I’m actually near some apartments, I don’t wanna accidentally wake someone up. I really gotta save up for some new earbuds; my last ones broke like, a month ago and I can only make do for so long.

“Three to one, hermano. You’re outnumbered.”

“But—Sigh, forget it! Salena, I—“

“‘NOUGH SMALL TALK!” At this point, they’re just playing hot potato with Donnie’s phone. “Salena, hurry up! We’re boutta start the mission so don’t want ya missin’ out!”

“Ha! Almost made a pun!”

“Shut up, Leo. Anyways, we’re at uh… Uh… Hey, Donnie, where we at?” 

I could hear him struggling for his phone in the distance. “You could just send our coordinates!”

“I could send her our coordinates! …How does Raph do that, again?”

The audio muffled as the phone shuffled back to its rightful owner. “God, I’m so gonna install security on this thing. Anyway, I’m sending our location to you right now. And as I was GOING TO SAY BEFORE! Salena, I look forward to seeing you again.”

He flashed a smile and part of my worries vanished. I’m still not sure how to read him but if he’s being nice, it can’t be all bad, right?

“OH, AND IF YA CAN, COULD YOU BRING ME A SNACK—“ Donnie hung up before the teddy bear could finish.

Luckily for him, his face beamed when I finally arrived around twenty minutes later and did, in fact, bring him a snack. 

“Hey guys! Hope I didn’t take—“

I couldn’t even finish speaking before finding myself laughing on the floor with four giant turtles hounding me in hugs. 

“It has been way too long since we’ve hugged!” Poor Mikey, I haven’t been able to see him in a hot minute. “Nice ponytail, by the way. Really makes your eyes pop.”

“Aww, thanks! I missed you guys too. Ugh, I really wish scheduling was easier! I’d hang out more often.” 

“Dude, why waste time on schedules when you could just come over?”

“‘Xactly! Ain’t like you’re not welcome!”

“Oh. I-I mean, sure! If you guys really don’t have a problem with it…” I wonder if this is what it’s like to feel wanted.

“I just wanted you to get a taste of what it felt to not be chosen!”

…T-then again, they’re probably just being polite.

Click!

“And fits perfectly, just as the estimations foretold!” The fuck? 

I looked down and saw a shiny black belt matching the arm wraps now resting above my hips. It’s actually fairly loose around my waist but I’m guessing that was the intention. There’s a giant pink button on the left with the same M-shaped logo as all of theirs. It looked super cool, honestly! Even seemed to match with my outfit!

“Woaaah, what is this thing?”

“Donnie. Really?” Leo didn’t sound impressed and neither did the others but, like, who cares! The belt’s dope as hell!

He ignored them and continued addressing me. “It basically functions both as your very own panic button and is a carrier for your sickles thanks to a highly specific magnetic attraction! Plus, it obviously helps tie in your outfit better ‘cause Great Galileo did you need some accessories.”

“Damn, I didn’t know my sickles were magnetic!”

“Oh, they weren’t before, I installed magnets in them last night.” With that, he pulled my fucking weapons seemingly out of his ass. Judging by everyone else’s groans though, I’m the only one who’s surprised and confused.

“Donald! What did we say about breaking into strangers’ homes!” 

“Hey, I didn’t break in!… to a stranger’s home! I broke into Salena’s, Salena is not a stranger—OW, HEY!” Raph slapped the back of his head. One quick yet dramatic recovery later, we all began our route of sneaking into the building. 

Security wasn’t monitoring the higher floors, so we only had to ninja our way up ‘till there and the rest was easy peasy. I tried focusing on the quick briefing I was receiving on the way up but my mind was admittedly elsewhere. Back to the weird situation I thought I dreamt up last night.

I don’t remember much. I was too tired to really register anything, and Donnie being a ninja probably enhanced that. But I do remember still hearing faint footsteps in my room; drawers being opened, the closet getting browsed. I was so out of it I figured I probably hallucinated everything. Either way, I was way too paralyzed to do anything; I couldn’t even put my phone back earlier. Kept passing in and out of consciousness. But it seemed like someone put it back for me. They helped my sloppy body into a position that wouldn’t leave me aching the next morning and pulled the covers up to tuck me in. What really sealed the whole dream theory to me was the metallic-textured “hand” that patted my head before they left and let the world return to tranquility.

I seriously did figure it was all a weird fever dream or some shit. Personally, I still feel like that’s more believable than it being Donnie all along. But staring down at my sickles, I guess I can’t really argue against the proof right in front of me. 

“Gentlemen, here we are! The Techno Cosmic Research Institute! Otherwise known as”—the door opened as I returned back to present time—“The TCRI.”

The moon illuminated the flat, revealing that we were in a main lobby of some sorts. Huge and spacious, decorated with different plants I’m sure Zane would’ve gone crazy over. 

…I shouldn’t think about him right now.

It was a huge and spacious lobby full of plants. The windows that were tinted from the outside now presented a full view of the city skyline. Doors were carved into the walls, transitioning to the other rooms. Some, like the several meeting rooms, were made with glass so I could vaguely make out the interior from here. Others were blocked by heavy, solid, metal doors, holding whatever secrets the government had behind them.

I felt strange setting foot in this place, like I wasn’t supposed to be here. Well, I guess we are breaking and entering, but it’s not that. It’s something else, something I can’t quite explain. Unrelated to the guys but personal to me. I feel I’m not wanted for a reason I’m not yet aware of. It’s freaking me out a little. 

“So, what do the Purple Dragons want with this place again?”

“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. I only caught a break-in to the system in general and tracked it back to Kendra, I don’t have info on what they’re trying to gain access to. Whatever it is, though, it has an impressively tight security system that’s nearly impossible to break! At least, not through their simple B-tier remote hacking.”

“If the Purple Dragons want it, then it’s gotta be something major.” I’ve known about them for a while thanks to April. 

It kinda shocked me at first, not because a group of teens created a tech-smart gang but because April O’Neil was a loser to someone. Call me a little biased—and you’d be right—but I still think Kendra’s got rocks for brains if she ignores someone like April. 

But that’s a mental essay for another day. Right now, Leo’s smirking. And if Leo’s smirking, things will either go amazingly well or horrifically wrong. 

“So… If we’re already here, why don’t we just figure out what they want ourselves?”

Mikey propped his chin up on Leo’s shoulder. “You mean like, go and explore? Sounds rad to me!”

“Yeah! Sneak around, let Donnie do his nerdy smart people stuff and see what’s so great about this place, yeah?” 

“Invade the privacy of our nation’s government and scavenge for confidential data!? Nardo, I love you!”

“Raph? Your call, buddy.”

He was shockingly quick to shrug. “Sure! Raph don’t see a problem with it. Sounds hella fun to me!”

“Uh, guys?” I raised my hand. “Isn’t this, like, highly illegal?” 

“And?” They all said in unison. To be fair, legal doesn’t sound like them anyway. 

“What are they gonna do? Arrest us?” His hand circled in front of his blue bandana.

“And don’t worry, you won’t get in trouble for anything that happens! Donnie can get rid of the evidence and no one will know you were here, right Dee?” Mikey shot a wink at Donnie.

“Affirmative!” 

Dang, Mikey’s made a lot of good points tonight. 

“Eh, you’re right. To hell with laws!” Passing up an opportunity to explore a space institution would be laughably unlike me, anyway! 

We decided to split up and meet back at the main lobby in fifteen, assuming the Purple Dragons hadn't arrived by then. It’s kind of scary wandering on my own in this place. It still feels off to me, but at the same time, I’ve always wanted so desperately to walk through a facility like this. Fascinating space research, meeting after meeting to discuss whatever new breakthrough was made, access to a shit ton of databases and technologies I’ll never have the chance to use at home!? Everything about this place is perfect! It’s all I dreamed it to be. 

So why won’t that damn feeling go away?

Whatever, it’s probably just tonight in general. I really, really, need to get over it and move on already or else I’m guaranteed to fuck up the whole mission.

I sighed and glanced down at my arm wraps, raising them to get a better look. Despite my flip-floppy mood, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s dorky but they do comfort me every now and then. They felt nice to wear and even looking at them made me all fuzzy and nostalgic. They feel like an older me even though I got them recently. 

“I take it you liked them, then.” 

His voice startled me, I thought everyone went their own ways but I guess Donnie was nearby. 

“Yeah, I do! The belt, too, they’re really cool gifts! Thank you.” He lit up when he heard those magic words. Man, I can’t believe I forgot to thank him sooner. Poor guy was probably aching for some feedback.

“I-I actually always wondered how you made them. They feel really sturdy but like, it’s not heavy to wear, either, if that makes sense.”

“Oh yeah, totally!” He typed on the screen on his arm, booting up the scanning feature to make sure we didn’t miss anything. “It’s an intentional design choice. They are supposed to act as armor, so.”

“Woah, cool! Do they count as tactical gear? As in military grade and all that jazz?”

“What? No, that’s not even good quality, that’s just a buzzword. Military grade simply means they met the minimum stated requirements at the lowest unit price.”

“…”

“…Low budget, few money, lead to mid product, good enough for gullible minds and general public consumption.” 

Ohhhh. “So they lied.”

“As per usual. It’s shit engineering in actuality.”

I pushed open one of the meeting rooms’ glass doors as Donnie’s shell held up a bright torch. We began scouting the area for anything interesting while continuing our talk. All this investigative work’s reminding me of April and the way she’d gush about doing the same. Completely understanding the appeal now; it feels so thrilling snooping around somewhere you’re not supposed to be! Especially when the law’s involved.

The room wasn’t anything unordinary. It looked like any other corporate meeting room. The long table leading to the small TV on the wall, decorative paintings and plants, the usual. Man, we probably should’ve gone into a more interesting—“OW!”

“…Watch your step.” He said after I already fell to my knees.

“Thanks for the very useful warning. What even was that?”

He shined the light closer to a… metal? No, definitely not entirely metal. A robot arm sloppily plopped on the floor. We couldn’t see what the arm was attached to, if it was attached to anything at all. It’s too long to trace back with the torch light from where we are. One thing’s for sure, though: It’s giant. The claw I tripped over is practically the same size as my head. 

“Hmm…” He crouched closer to the arm, slowly inspecting it. “Weird. It looks like it’s made of some cheap plastic. Perhaps a prototype of some sorts.”

“I don’t think they’d make it this big if it was a prototype.” Maybe we could do a test to see what type of plastic it is. “You got any fire?”

“While I see your angle and would love to carry through that experiment, it’s probably not wise to burn something we don’t know the purpose of. Or, you know, alert the security of our presence from the alarms.”

“Yeah, fair…” Man, would’ve been hella fun, though. 

We both stayed on the floor, a little stumped on what the hell this thing was. My eyes got bored after a while and wandered around the room again. The only interesting thing in here was this weird ass plastic arm, it’s pretty much useless looking around the room but it did keep me entertained. There were five plants in this room which explains the fresh smell, all of them were basic enough for me to recognize. Two zebra plants, a ponytail palm, and…

I ignored the plant on the table when I spotted something thin underneath it, hidden by the shadows. I think it’s a slip of paper?

Donnie’s sigh brought my attention back. “You know what, I’m gonna go to their computer lab to see if one of their databases has anything about this thing.”

“Aight, I’ll stay back and keep exploring. Good luck!”

Right as he left, I sped over to the mysterious paper, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. The table was tall enough for me to comfortably sit under, leaning over the paper on the floor to read it. It’s, coincidentally enough, about that puzzling arm. The incomplete text made it clear it was probably part of a stack of paper or a file and fell out. Sadly, it didn’t reveal much but what I could get out of it was that it’s an automated arm controlled by an AI system, mostly covered with polypropylene plastic. Heh, PP plastic. Oh, it was created for the purpose of security. Well that’s just fantastic. I should go warn the boys about it.

I quickly snapped a pic of the loose sheet, almost getting out from under the table.

…But I’m glad as hell I didn’t.

I heard it. A soft, mechanical hum as something slithered off the ground. I grabbed my sickles from their belt, trying to minimize my shaking. It took a few blinks and tries but I managed to turn invisible, watching the machine move through the darkness. How was it suddenly on?

Its movements were smooth and natural. Too natural for something meant to be robotic. It’s so eerily graceful, slithering through the air. The arm swiveled its claw around like an animal head checking its surroundings. It… It’s looking where I am. It’s looking at me. It shouldn’t be able to see me, I’m not supposed to be visible! But it won’t stop staring.

”FUCK!” I shrieked when it lunged at me, quickly slicing it before it could grab me. Thank god it’s just plastic… Why the fuck is it hollow? 

That doesn’t make any sense! Shouldn’t there be wiring or something? Even if not to connect the AI, how the hell can it move like that without anything to mimic muscle!? 

I gasped, turning my head to the side. I can hear something else. It’s gooey and mushy and… 

It’s looping around the room.

It’s getting louder.

”W-what the hell?”

…I think I can see it now. Something solid but stretchy, resembling thick vines climbing up the plastic arm. I backed up, watching as it crawled over to the newly severed claw. It pulled the claw back to its other half and tightened around them. It glowed? A sickeningly blinding green color. Before I realized what was going on, the claw suddenly reattached as the vines slinked back into the darkness. 

It saw me again and the chase resumed. 

It’s so damn fast, I can barely outrun it! Dodging is saving my ass but it keeps knocking over any furniture I used against it! 

I jumped when I heard Donnie from the comms. Wait, he installed comms on my arm wraps? Damn, I'm so frazzled, I forgot about those.

“What’s making all that racket? Everything okay over there?”

”You can hear that!?”

”Yeah, I’m literally right next door?”

”Well—SHIT!” Too fucking close, too fucking close! It almost fucking grabbed me! Fuck, my knees hurt from that! “SON OF A—Don’t worry, I can handle it! I’ll explain soon!”

I tried getting off the floor as quickly as possible but the claw pulled me back down. The four sharp grippers opened up like a mouth and a fucking chainsaw came out. It went straight for my head, life flashing before my eyes as my sickles blocked it by pure reflex, holding it back. It won’t back off! I can’t keep pushing forever! How the hell do I get out of this!?

“FIBONACCI!” 

A spinning titanium blur whacked the arm back, grabbing its attention to the maniacally smiling turtle now dashing through the room. His arm reached out, grabbing his staff from mid-air, and chopped off the robot arm with a giant drill. I curled in on myself right before a bright, violet shield spread over me and kept the arm’s falling metal parts from landing on me.

“You know, that did not seem like ‘handling it’.” 

My vision cleared to his hand offering to help me up. I’m suddenly getting deja vu from the other countless times my helpless damsel-wannabe ass needed a rescue. Panicked and guilt-ridden, I waved it off and got up on my own. 

“We gotta get outta here right now!”

“What? Why? I already—”

The vines returned and began repeating their process of fixing the arm. Though this time, it seems to be going faster.

“Oh my banana pancakes! What is that!?”

“I don’t know but that’s why we’re leaving! Come on!”

I grabbed his hand and we ran out the room, running into the others in the main lobby.

”Leo! There’s—”

“Crazy killer robot arms, we know. Was just in the middle of talking about that, actually.” He gave a glance of disapproval to the pouting red giant next to Mikey. Who also looks hella annoyed. It would appear we’ve walked in on a teensy squabble. 

I heard Donnie sigh beside me “Raph, please tell me you didn’t.” He left my clueless ass standing there to join in on their talk.

Wait—Oh god, not again!

Turning around, I grabbed my sickles. I heard it again. Managed to dodge just in time for its jab to my right. It seems the guys are too busy to notice and I really don’t wanna burden them again. I’ll solo this one!

“When I said we should go explore, I didn’t mean go ‘round pushing things! We’re in a government building, why would you touch anything!?”

I heard another hit coming and blocked it with the blade. 

Yeah, I-I can totally take this! I should let them finish their conversation—Holy fuck, there’s more than one, fucking end my suffering already. 

”I didn’t mean to! You guys know I got a weak spot, what was I supposed to do? If they didn’t want Raph to push the big, red button, maybe they shouldn’t make it big ‘n red!” 

“Buddy, that’s not how that works and you know that.”

There’s three of them now and they’re so unreasonably fast! It’s so hard to keep up! Ugh, it almost feels like I am being punished after all. 

My accidental yelp luckily got drowned by Mikey’s groan. “Man, just let it go! We can smell your ‘I know I fucked up but don’t wanna admit it ‘cause I’m the big brother’ stench!”

”THAT’S A DIFFERENT STENCH!”

”AHH!” 

I really didn’t mean to blurt that out but the claw dug into my leg and yanked me off the ground! Guilt aside, it’s probably a good thing I caught their attention, especially since I dropped my sickles like a fucking moron!

“SALENA!” His sword slashed through the air but got promptly blocked and thrown back by another metal claw. A scary amount of them are showing up now! The guys are completely surrounded and I’m stuck useless, dangling in the air!

One of the arms came closer and opened its grippers, a scanner popping out this time, its red beam blinding my eyes. My breathing grew shallow, the commotion from below fading away. I’m getting lightheaded from being suspended upside down. I need to get out of this situation. But there’s nothing I can do. Just squint past the light and anxiously wait for its next move. 

My ears burned from the claw’s monstrous shriek. It sounds like a fucking animalistic version of nails on a chalkboard! Why did it react to me like this? Why me? Aren’t we all intruders? Why is it just me!?

“You deserve this.”

Was he right?

I didn’t process getting swung in the air until I was let go with enough momentum to cause a crash through the decor. My arms shook as I tried lifting my body up. Everything hurts, everything fucking hurts! My ears, my arms, my legs! My head! I just wanted a little distraction tonight! Why is this happening?

Is this really my karma?

…Wait a sec.

When I managed to lift my head, I came face to face with a crack in the wall where the robot arms were emerging from. The vines I saw earlier turned out to be permanently merged with the arms at the roots and lead to… something behind the wall. The crack was too small to properly make much out but it looked like it was breathing?

Whatever, I don’t have time to be surprised. “Guys! The arms! They’re coming from over here!” 

The crack’s small but just big enough for something slim! Like—

The claw dug into my leg once again and began dragging me away. “Leo! Donnie! One of your weapons can fit through!” 

“Got it!”

“I’ll cover!”

Flashes of blue scattered around the lobby. Each portal and throw of his sword brought Leo closer and closer to the wall. I couldn’t watch for too long, though, as I found myself back in the air again. It froze my skin getting thrown across the room faster than before. This time, towards the glass windows. 

Chains grabbed at my ankle and yanked me back to the ground away from my disastrous fate. I looked up to see the tangerine flashing a confident yet relieved smile at me. “Hey!”

“…Hey!” 

Mystic metal clinked as Mikey pulled back some of the robot arms chasing after Leo to buy him more time. Raph and Donnie quickly shifted gears and guarded me to make sure the plastic freaks couldn’t grab me again. Mikey continued to aid Leo, bouncing all over the room, keeping the arms distracted with his flow and somehow, still bringing them back to where he originally stood: Away from Leo. 

Finally, a sword was heard stabbing through the air and splashing through a soft, squishy substance. The arms dropped to the floor as the thing in the wall hissed in pain, slowly leading to the dreadfully awaited silence at last.

Mikey reached his hand out for me and pulled me up. “You good?”

“Not dead, yeah.” 

“Guess that’s a start.”

I glanced to the side at Donnie staring blankly at me, confused until he walked over and held one of my arms to examine my wrap. 

“Hmm, I wonder if there’s some modification I can do to your gloves that prevents your sickles from getting so easily lost.” I guess that’s why he was staring a minute ago. 

“Honestly, that’d be great. I keep losing them, so…”

“Yeah, I was thinking—“ 

“Nerd-talk later! Do a med scan!” Leo shoved him out the way and accidentally knocked Mikey back. Didn’t seem like he noticed since he immediately started checking me for injuries. I don’t even know when he got here?

Donnie sighed but went through with it anyway, tapping on his wrist as he checked my vitals. “No broken bones, no internal bleeding, nothing too concerning to report thankfully. Salena, do you feel alright?” 

“Mhm! Just some scratches here and there but I’ll live.” 

“Just some scratches, hm? You forgettin’ something?” Leo pointed down to my horrifically bruised and bloody leg. Whoops.

“…I-I’ll still live.”

While Leo took care of bandaging my leg, the rest of us spent the next few minutes catching our breaths. Mikey laid on the floor, limbs starfished out, while Donnie was texting April and catching her up to speed. I can only imagine how devastated she’d be in the morning, finding out she missed all this action. It’d have been nice having her here, honestly. 

Raph wasn’t near us, though. He stood by the wall where the once-breathing specimen was at. He kept peeking through the crack, rubbing his arm and looking hesitant about something.

“Raph?” My voice prompted the others to turn their attention to him.

“…Nobody else wonderin’ what the hell this thing could be? I know we’re only here to stop the Purple Dinos—“

“That’s Purple Dragons, Raphala.”

“—Whatever! But really, guys! After all that, we just gonna head home and forget about it?” 

He’s not wrong.

Come to think of it, this place is government funded. There should be no reason why some foreign entity exists in a place like the TCRI. They’re supposed to do space research and nothing else. That’s what they’re paid for.

“You know what?” Donnie turned his phone off. “I could work on hacking through their system myself. I don’t know if it’ll prove successful, but I can try.”

I felt Mikey’s head drop on my shoulder. He sure loves doing that. “What do we do about the vine thingies?” 

“Well, we can’t just—“ Leo paused, making eye contact with Raph. They shared a smirk and nodded.

“You thinkin’ what thinkin’ big bro?”

He chuckled, punching his fists together. “You bet!”

A bright red aura surrounded his figure as his arm reeled back and locked the sais in his hands.

“POWER PUNCH JUTSU!!!”

My body staggered as the ground shook upon impact, the dust clearing to reveal the tiny gap in the wall is suddenly a giant ass hole now.

“Man, y’all really don’t give a shit about government property, do ya?” 

“Nope. But hey! It was def the right choice!” Raph’s snaggletooth gleamed through his mischievous smile.

The five of us stared through the hole, trying to comprehend the oversized specimen in front of us. It was a pulsing, yellow-green thing in the shape of a tall tube, wider on the top than the bottom. There were reddish lines on it zigzagging up and down almost like veins. It was punctured at its middle, caused by the blade of the katana that shot right through it a few moments ago. 

“Ya know, it kind of resembles a plant. Which would explain the mystery vines, actually.”

“What plant, then? Ain’t no plant Raph knows of that throbs.”

He shook his head with a light shrug. “Sadly, I am not sure. It looks a little like a pitcher plant but also not really? They shouldn’t be luminescent or have vines emerging out like that. And also the throbbing, of course.” 

Pitcher plant, ay? I’ve heard of that. They’re my favorite out of all the carnivorous jungle plants Zane rambled about once. Plants were actually one of the first things we had a genuine bond over, even if I’m pretty clueless about them. The way his eyes lit up when talking about them with so much love and adoration just melted me.

His eyes…

His godforsaken eyes…

“Salena?”

“Huh?” How long have I been spaced out?

“You sure you’re good? You seemed kinda out of it just now.” I forgot how close Mikey was to me, I should be more careful.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Really? ‘Cause lowkey, you’ve been off all night. I didn’t wanna say anything but…”

“Oh, no, no, I’m—“

“Actually, you did mention something happened between you and your friend earlier, remember? Before you called me.” This violet ass motherfucker did not just erm actually me at the worst time ever.

“That what this about, big man? Had another fight with your friend?” Why is everyone suddenly focused on me!?

“N-Not the same one! This is someone different, I promise! T-that’s not to say I have a problem with everyone! I just… Um…” Great going, Salena! Now they’ll think you’re just insufferable and incapable of friendship! “I-I don’t think we should be—Well, we kinda have worse issues to worry about, don’t we?”

“Kendra and her yes-men ain’t here yet. What I wanna know is why you’re so spacey tonight! Dr. Feelings can’t help if he can’t know!”

“It’s nothing! N-nothing too bad, at least. He just—A-actually, it was really mostly me so um… It’s hard to explain exactly…”

Geez, my palms are annoyingly sweaty. I really don’t wanna give them the wrong idea, it was just one fight! It’s not a representation of our entire relationship! But I know from experience any time I try talking about Zane to someone, they end up hating him and I don’t want that! Fuck, I should’ve been more careful. My stupid tongue-tied gibberish ain’t helping the situation, either!

My shoulders flinched when I saw Leo stand in front of me, hand on his hip as he faced towards his brothers. “Okay, hermanos, give her some space! Stop smothering! I know we’re all worried, I’m worried too, but if Salena doesn’t wanna talk, they shouldn’t be forced to.”

The others finally piped down. None of them looked happy about it—understandably so—but it seemed Leo was able to convince them to drop it, anyway. I really owe him one. 

He peeked over his shoulder to glance back at me. “If you do wanna talk about something, though, we’re here for you.” 

…It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t see how it’d help anything— 

CRASH!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HAVE WE NOT HAD ENOUGH SURPRISES FOR ONE NIGHT!?

“Good going, Jase. Real quiet of you.”

All of us, equally tense and gripping our weapons to stand guard, took a solid minute to process that the loud crash wasn’t another dumbass robot-plant-arm thing, but instead was Kendra and the other two stumbling through the main door they hacked open. Speak of the dragons and they arrive, I suppose.

She looked over at us and her sharp eyes drooped lower. “Of course.” 

I only ever knew Kendra before tonight, none of the other members. Hate her guts since she’s forever engraved as April’s bully in my mind and doesn’t seem to have changed. Her movements and mannerisms still match the coy, conniving person I remember her to be, walking over in such a smug, superior way that screams “greater than thou”. Once, back when they were still in high school, April had a mini breakdown due to college applications kicking her ass. She was struggling and stressing over not getting accepted into a good amount of her options and believed she’d have to rely solely on her safeties at that point. Kendra really rubbed it in. Wouldn’t shut up about it, demeaning her for being a failure. 

April knows damn well to never take Kendra seriously. However, it’s not a surprise those words still stung considering how stupidly frightening the whole college process is. Joke’s on Kendra, though. One of April’s main choices that had her wait-listed ended up accepting her in! As for Kendra? All hypocritical bark, no bite it seems. 

“Hello, Von Ryan. How’s life?”

“Good, good. How about you, enjoying your—what’d you call it? ‘Intellectual freedom’?” 

“Low blow even for you. You guys couldn’t fuck around here with your little toys another night?” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze drifted towards me as her brows furrowed more. 

“Who’s that—Hold up. You… Yeah, I remember you!” She’s doing that annoying fake-nice tone she uses sometimes, the one that makes me wanna punch her in the face. “You’re that idiot kid April wouldn’t shut up about tutoring last year! What’s a teacher’s pet like you doing here?”

Mikey gasped and covered my ears like a parent to a toddler witnessing sailor-speak. “Hey! Don’t you dare talk about our friend like that!” 

I honestly couldn’t care less what Kendra says about me. Personally, I’m more focused on the other two, right now. It’s my first time ever seeing them, I think Donnie said their names were Jason and Jeremy? They’ve been pretty quiet so far, standing at her side and smirking like Saturday-morning cartoon lackeys. One of them had a large, blocky figure, dark skin, and dyed green hair. His gold visor looked pretty cool, I’ll admit. The other—I could guess from his hunched demeanor alone—was definitely their token punching bag. He’s got these awkward gloves that are way too big for his hands. Dark eyes, short, black hair, and round… glasses…

NO FUCKING WAY!

“YOU—HIM! OH MY GOD! NOOOO, NO-NO-NO-NO! NO! NO!” Ain’t no motherfucking way this bitch is who I think he is, this has to be a prank! It has to! For the sake of my sanity! Oh, but it isn't! It’s fucking real!

“...Salena? You doin’ okay?” The others looked concerned at my sudden and dramatic outlash. Fucking of course, Donnie and Mikey wouldn’t know! Jason still had the bag over his head when he was around them! Fuck, why didn’t I just take it off right there!?

“Jason! That asshole was who we saved from Meatsweats a few months ago!”

Raph and Leo looked just as lost as before. Mikey and Donnie, on the other hand, went pale with shock.

“That was you!?” Donnie’s staff pointed directly at the fucker. “Why didn’t you say anything!? I know you recognized my voice!” 

“I can’t believe Salena and I interrupted a perfectly nice day to save you of all folks! You ruined our lovely little ice cream date, dawg!”

“I was being kidnapped by a pig monster? Why would I reveal I’m a rival when you were the only help I had?”

“And yet, here you are, the very reason we’re stuck in this creepy facility, preventing you three from illegally accessing information and doing who knows what with it even though you now owe us one, YOU UNGRATEFUL MENACE!”

Before I could fix my brain enough to join in on justifiably shaming the idiot, I noticed Leo and Raph exchanging confused glances at each other.

“...What the hell is going on?”

“Raph don’t know.” They both looked at me for answers because the universe hates me.

I tearfully and shamefully explained the bullshit scenario we are now stuck in due to my impulsivity. “Donnie, Mikey, and I saved a guy from Meatsweats I think back in April? H-he had a bag over his head so they didn’t know what he looked like and I-I was the only one who saw him without it b-but I didn’t know he was part of the fucking Purple Dragons and—Fuck my life! My first ever save and it was a villain!?” The one time I actually did something useful…

God, there’s so much noise everywhere! Everyone’s arguing with each other or trying to get it to stop or whatever else is going on! My head hurts. Why did I even come here? I should’ve just went home. I should’ve stayed with Zane. I keep getting in the way, I keep making mistakes, I keep ruining things!

I have to keep my composure, though. I don’t wanna cry in a situation like this, not when I’ve already done enough harm.

“Wait a sec, where’s Jeremy?” 

We all paused, the realization clearing up as we heard a cheer from another room. “Yes! I got in! I got past the system!”

“Holy shit, he’s in the computer lab! Quick, we—” 

A bat hit Donnie straight on his stomach and knocked him back, Raph catching him so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

Kendra clicked her tongue as she laughed. “I gotta hand it to ya, you morons somehow turned off these stupid security systems. Definitely the most annoying part I’d have had to figure out; I guess that’s why I wanted ‘em, anyway. I don’t know how you did it but congrats! You’re not completely useless.” It looked more like she was addressing Donnie over any of us.

“But now?” She and Jason blocked the door. Her bat stood by her side. “Stay out of my fucking way.”

Obviously, that’s not happening, so chaos erupted instead. One would think a Two VS. Five would be pretty easy to handle… until they saw how well Kendra used her bat, that is. She’s faster than I expected, able to zip around before anyone could properly react. Definitely has a strong arm, too. Then, of course, there’s the traitor. Jason pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and took out his own set of weapons. Or should I say, whipped them out. ‘Cause they’re actually fucking whips. 

They were almost impossible to get by. Glowing in the dark room, buzzing from the static friction they made against each other. 

He targeted them towards Leo who barely managed to dodge just in time. Mikey, not being as lucky, got smacked right in the face.

“OW! Hey! Since when did he even have those!?” 

“Oh! Since last week, actually. I made them using—”

Either the bitch has good hearing or I was too loud when my sickle swung at his head. “Are ya dense!? How are you still tryna maintain small-talk after literally betraying us!? You know what I looked like, you wouldn’t have even said anything if I didn’t call you out! You lied to me! I saved you and you lied!”

“AH! The hell, man!? You’re gonna kill me for that!?”

“No!” The sickles weren’t sharp, only a little solid. I know I gotta resist. Unfortunately. “Just knock you out for a bit, you scheming piece of shit!” 

I wish I could say I was making up for my several blunders tonight by at least being able to handle the living embodiment of a toothpick. My leg’s not super mangled up but, surprise-surprise, it’s hard to move at my fastest and dodge with it still being injured. He’s a little impressively good with those whips, too. It’s hard keeping track of where they both are at all times, the difficulty only increased by how quick he’s able to use them considering he’s only trained for a week. I’m trying my damn best with what I can.

“Oh my god, give it up with the guilt-tripping! I’m not gonna turn on my sister just ‘cause you saved me once!”

“Hell no! I risked turning into mutant-munchies for you—Hol’ up a sec.” The pure blasphemy that came out of his mouth shocked me so bad, I actually had to pause. “Kendra’s your sister? Ew, what’s that like?”

Yet another mistake on my part. One of the whips wrapped around my sickle to fling it and I—determined to not lose them again—got shot through the air along with it. 

At this rate, I’ll be free-bird flying and crashing to the floor every five minutes. I don’t even feel like getting up anymore. Fuck, I don’t usually feel pain so easily.

Hm?

The battle ground’s a little chaotic so it’s hard to follow when in the middle of it. But, now that I’m seeing it from a distance, everyone’s intentions are suddenly ten times clearer. Kendra’s hovering towards a specific direction, dancing around the door to where Jeremy is. Jason’s distracting everyone and keeping them from paying attention to her. I have a feeling that’s very much so on purpose.

She’s starting to go in. I guess it doesn’t matter whether or not I want to, I gotta get up now. I closed my eyes and with whatever strength I had, used my sickles to turn invisible and go after her. 

I snuck by Kendra and entered the lab. Jeremy was glued to the computer, staring at a loading screen. On the side of the PC was a USB stuck to the port. Of course, accidentally saving the villain wasn’t enough! They had to use the same shitty USB we went back for, too.

“Jeremy, status report!”

“It’s almost done downloading the files! Just a few more seconds and�� We got it!”

“Nice work! Quick! Toss ‘em over!”

Oh boy, if Kendra’s able to gain the instructions for those freaky arms, who knows what she’ll make with it! I can’t let them get access to anything here!

 Thus, following my usual rule of acting-without-thinking, I threw a sickle at the USB. I don’t know if it was my panic or my rage that caused it to be so sharp but it cut the USB in half mid-air and smashed straight into one of the PCs. My punishment for resorting to such destructively impulsive solutions was being greeted by the lovely melody of security sirens going off for breaking their important tech.

“No! My USB! There was so much stuff in that! Fuck!” She is so seriously distraught over the wrong thing. 

Upon retrieving my sickle, I hadn’t realized I was flickering in and out of visibility till Kendra’s bat nearly made contact with my head. “You little skeeze! Do you have any idea how much of my progress you destroyed!” 

“But that’s mine and Jason’s progress—“

“SHUT UP!” She snapped her head back to bark at him and I took my moment of escape, knocking her down out of my way. Still, she kept up by yanking at my leg and pulling me down with her, severely getting on my nerves by now.

So, I kicked her in the face.

She stayed there, groaning in pain, while her sidekick buddy checked on her. Sure, I could’ve kicked a little softer but I think a bloody nose is merciful enough for her. 

I returned to the lobby, greeted by chaos more hectic than before. The alarms and sirens were still blaring, red lights flashing on and off the entire facility. Our oh so beloved security arm friends returned in even greater numbers now! If I believed in superstition, I’d believe this night was cursed.

Jason’s looking a little overwhelmed now having to solo both the Teenage Mutant Mad Dogz and the newly emerged robot claws, yet he’s still not giving in and letting the guys go in peace. Speaking of them, they’re scattered all over the place, trying to keep themselves and each other from getting yoinked and flung like I was earlier. 

Donnie was the only one who managed to maneuver over to me.

“Salena!?” 

“Donnie! What’s going on!? Where’d the stupid arms come from!?”

“Well, I suppose it’d be impractical if they only had one source of their weird mystic high-tech robots, so there’s that.” He spun his tech-bō and whacked away the claw that was following him. “What happened in there? You disappeared and then we heard a loud crash from that room and suddenly everything got dialed up to eleven!”

“Uh, yeah, my fault, I uh—Eek!” Thank god for reflexes, the only thing that let me slice at a robot arm before it sliced me. “Good news is, I destroyed the USB they were using so Kendra can’t access the government’s whatever-the-fuck anymore! Bad news, I also accidentally destroyed one of their computers in the process, set off the security alarms, and now we’re here. Sorry, haha…” 

“You what!?”

“It was an accident, I swear! I really didn’t mean—”

“You annoying little twinkle-toes!” Kendra charged at us from behind and her bat swung directly at me. Thankfully, Donnie blocked it from knocking me dead and sent Kendra back a few steps. 

“You know what? If you got Kendra this mad, then you’re forgiven for everything on my terms! Let’s go!” He grabbed my wrist and dragged us away from the bat-wielding maniac.

Though, I’m not sure whether a metal bat or metal claws are worse. A bunch of them charged towards me now that I got back within their sight. 

“Move!” He shoved me out of the way of the monster claws.

I slid on the ground, actually keeping my balance this time, and swung at another claw coming from my right. Without having a moment to breathe, I ducked and slashed at one right above me. I would’ve missed the one coming from behind me, had Raph not been there and created a mystic shield. There’s so many all around the flat and it seems I’m still their favorite toy. 

“Salena, try hidin’ somewhere!” He punched one of the claws straight on, the impact causing a loud clunk. “They keep coming after you!” 

“I can’t! They saw me even when I turned invisible, they probably have a different type of vision or something!” 

“Infrared vision, genius!” Kendra’s bat got caught by my sickle. She aimed for my torso this time, I’m surprised it wasn’t back at my head. “They were built with thermal sensors! Which I would’ve been able to shut off if somebody didn’t break the computers!”

“God, were you built to get on people’s nerves!?” 

I’ve just about had it with her bullshit, reflected in my blades turning sharp enough to slice her bat in half. I elbowed her in the stomach and took the chance to roll over to a new spot. The closest I can get to hiding is continuously moving, staying in one place meant getting hoarded.

Mikey grumbled nearby, his nunchucks spinning in his hands. “Man, they’re too much! We gotta go! Leo?”

“A bit busy!” Busy was right, he’s cutting down a good number of the plastic pains with his katanas. There’s no good opportunity to use them as an escape portal, let alone any safe ones.

Beep! Beep!

Donnie raised his gauntlet up and flashed what I assume to be the building’s security cameras he hacked into. “Oh, no, no, no, guys! They’re sending actual human officers up now! What do we do!?”

Everyone’s panicked, shit’s fucked to the brim, and the constant beeps and shrieks are only making it harder to think! Kendra’s yelling about her bat, Mikey’s chosen to deal with the Purple Disasters while they’re bickering away, Raph’s boxing the claws and shielding Donnie, who’s frantically typing at his wristwatch to hack the security, and Leo’s… Screaming and getting flung. Sweet, we’ve matched now.

I ran over to Leo, guarding him from the arms trying to take advantage of the situation. “So, how’d you like your first flight?”

“I’d prefer it more if I was actually expecting it.” He got up almost as fast as he crashed down, not wasting a single second to getting back in the fight. “Ugh, I gotta get us out of here, but I need an opening!”

“Want me to try clearing something out?”

“You got any plans on how—Shit, get back!” His arm pushed me back behind him to avoid getting hit. 

The white tails of my ribbon flew forward, slightly blocking my vision. I looked straight ahead, past the death machines and battle-ground chaos, and saw the glass windows showcasing the brightly-lit city night.

The ribbon…

…Bingo.

“I actually might.” I tugged at the silk tails and felt my hair flow down as it got undone. “Just trust me and get everyone out at the first opportunity you get!”

“Wait, what are you—”

I dashed past him before he could ask any questions, no real time for them now. My multitasking skills were given the ultimate test as I focused on darting across the room, intentionally getting the arms to gather and chase after me, while tying the ribbon to the handles of my sickles and connecting them together. 

In the corner of my eye, I saw Mikey had managed to take out Kendra and her sidekicks. Don’t even gotta worry about them now, it’s going better than I thought! There was pounding at the door. Seems Donnie locked the officers out for now, but I doubt it’ll be long till they find a way to break in by force. Gotta move fast. This plan could fail horrifically, but it’s the best shot we’ve got!

With all the security arms focused on me now, the boys had a clear opening to leave. I sprinted to the windows, wound back my sickles, and broke the glass with a single throw. 

Now or never!

“HOT SOUP!!!” 

And out the window I went.

The air felt amazing, rushing by my skin as I let gravity take over the fall. I turned myself over, now looking up at the sky. The arms were shooting out the windows, unable to reach down any further to get me. A flash of blue from the inside indicated everyone was out safely. That’s my cue to prevent myself from dying now!

I held onto one of my sickles and swung the other one up. My spine tingled as a pink aura washed over my hand and over the sickle that I grabbed, trailing its way up the white silk ribbon…

Transforming it to chains!?

The pure white mystic chain clanked as it stretched out. The sickle I threw up now broke through the glass side of the building and continued shattering through it straight down. A few broken shards chipped at me as I snapped back to reality and remembered the original plan. I closed my eyes and refocused on the sickles. No thoughts, no distractions, no room for any of them. I have to breathe. I have to focus. 

The blades morphed them into a stiff rubber. Too soft to break the glass, too strong to break itself in half, effectively yanking me to a stop. 

I did it.

I actually fucking did it!

“Holy truffle mac and cheese, that was awesome!”

“I know!” I excitedly greeted Donnie who had flown over using his jet pack. “I can’t believe it went so well! You saw it all?”

“And recorded!” He turned his back towards me and pointed at his shell. “Need a ride?” 

“Definitely.” 

We cruised across the sky onto the roof of a nearby building where the rest of the guys were. The instant I hopped off Donnie’s shell, Leo jumped me with a hug, followed by several frantic checks to make sure all limbs were intact.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you dizzy? What’s wrong with you? You’re crazy! You’re crazy, you know that!?”

“Now who’s smothering them?” Mikey snickered at Leo, who looked relieved and on the verge of tears at the same time. 

“Everyone shut up and look at this video first! You’ll probably forget whatever meaningless chitchat you were having, anyway!” Donnie hissed from glee, using his extra mechanical limbs to huddle us all around his phone that was playing the video of me from a few moments ago. 

Looking at the footage now, it seemed the pink aura actually came from my whole body. It spread throughout my arms and circled past my hands, flowing to the white ribbon and replacing them with shimmering, white chains. 

Mikey screamed from excitement, holding onto my hands. “MYSTIC CHAINS! Omigosh, we match now! We’re like twins!” 

“I know! Isn’t it great!? We can be chain buddies—Eh, nevermind, that doesn’t sound right.” 

We sat around for a while so Leo could help with all the cuts and microscopic bits of glass stuck to me. In the meantime, they were all curious how the chains even came to be, which I sadly didn’t have a clear answer for. I went ahead and reassured them my plan would’ve still worked with the ribbon itself, though. Speaking of, I can’t really get my ribbon back now. Sorry, Mi. However, I did figure out how to make the chains vanish and re-materialize, so at least I don’t have to learn a different fighting style! 

Donnie was paying attention, I think. Just multitasking with a few holographic monitors up. He sighed and put ‘em away after a while.

“Yeah, no, sorry guys. Maybe my brain’s too fuzzy but I can’t hack into the actual database tonight.”

“No big deal, Don. Ya done enough.” Raph gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Hey, you guys wanna go grab some pizza? Raph could use a break.”

“Yeah, I think we all could.” Hopeful, green eyes faced towards me. “Salena? It’s late but… You wanna join us for a bit?”

It’s around 3am now. If I went home now, I’d only get three hours of sleep and that’s assuming I’ll conk out immediately. It’s not impossible, though, I can feel the energy crash creeping up from all the adrenaline. But, I don’t know. I don’t wanna go yet. 

“I’m already out, aren’t I? Might as well!” 

Turns out, for once tonight, I made the right choice. It was fun getting to be with them in a more casual manner. Just chilling at a park, enjoying some pizza, and re-energizing myself as I watched them goof around. I checked through my phone while I enjoyed the delicious cheesy glory.

Everything seemed normal.

Except for one tiny issue.

I was putting it off but Zane sent a voice note to me a few hours ago. I don’t have earbuds but everyone’s pretty distracted right now, anyway. I could listen to it. Maybe it’s… Maybe it’s better than I think it is. 

I lowered the volume just to have it barely audible and clicked play.

“Hey. Um… I hope you’re home and safe now. I…” He sighed and went silent for a while. 

“This wasn’t how I intended tonight to be. It was such a gorgeous night. The weather was perfect. Everything was perfect. It was all going so well. What happened? Why do we always end up like this?”

I wish I knew. Or that he knew. Maybe we could’ve helped each other if just one of us knew what was the problem.

“Everything in my life always goes so wrong. I’m so tired of it, Salena. You’re the only thing I haven’t messed up. I don’t want to mess this up. I just—” I could hear a creek from the door opening as someone came in the room. “Yeah, it’s on the floor, clean it up. I don’t know how, just go clean it!”

Sounds of glass being swept up filled the background atmosphere. Zane sighed again. “Sorry. One of my vases broke tonight. The cherry on top, right? Anyway, uh… I’ll just end it here. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re dreaming of something nice. And I’m… I’m sorry.”

The voice note ended. It wasn’t that bad, I guess. I feel a little bad about earlier but I’m glad he apologized. I guess things are fine now. I should probably leave a text, it’d be wrong to hold a grudge if the situation’s already resolved. 

You: hey i’m safe yea. I just wanna say i’m sorry too for lashing out like that earlier. I hope you’re sleeping well, sweet dreams and see ya tomorrow <3

There we go. Nothing to worry about now. Nothing to stress over.

A hand tapped at my shoulder. I raised my head to meet Mikey smiling down at me. “Mind if I sit? They’re bein’ a little loco even for my taste right now.”

I looked straight and saw Leo and Donnie arguing over whether pineapple belongs on pizza and Raph taking the opportunity to sneakily eat their slices. Pretty tame behavior from them, but Mikey’s tone was too lighthearted to be serious, anyway. 

I shifted over on the bench and patted the empty space next to me. He sat down and brought his knees to his chest, his back leaning against my side. He shuffled with his phone for a bit before offering me one of his earbuds. “Wanna listen to Fall Out Boy with me?”

“Sure!” 

I could use some music after tonight.

Next Chapter

This chapter was nearly 15K words btw-

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Got Your Back (Mountain x NB!Reader)

Summary: After they spilled their guts to Mountain, their best friend about what was going on with their life and the trouble they've gotten thanks to the siblings of the clergy not accepting them; things gets bad to worse and Y/N has no other choice but to turn to Mountain for help.

Pairings: Platonic!Mountain x Non-binary reader

AN: I posted a poll a few days ago to see who wanted to see a part 2 oneshot of the offered works and 'I'll Take Care of You' won the vote! So here you guys go! Reader is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns.

Workshop

Prompt List Requests Open

~

They should have known the problems wouldn't disappear overnight. They should have known better; even if they had talked to Mountain it didn't mean the trouble would end there. And that's how they got right where they were. Humiliated and damn near in tears.

The eyes of the other clergy were staring at them. Burning holes into their head they could do nothing but stand there. Some were laughing, others stood shocked at the display. But did anyone come to help or stop this display of humiliation? No. Zero, nada, no one. Not a single siblings; even those who They were considered polite or friendly with. No one stepped up to save them the social embarrassment.

The last remnant of Their hair rested at their feet. Lying in frayed piles by their boots; hair that they had grown out longer than they usually kept it, just because in a previous encounter Mountain had said he'd liked their hair and here it lay ruined. That which did not get chopped off was in odd different lengths making them look wild and unkempt. It took everything in them not to cry even when the burn in their eyes and nose made it almost unbearable to hold in.

"Now you can look like the faggot that you are. Since you don't want to pick a side of whether you wanna be a man or a woman." the culprit laughed in their face.

"Why the long face? You wanted to be what was it? Non-binary right? I was just helping you with that." the young man grinned devilishly despite the sickening sweetness of mockery tainting his words.

Y/n said nothing. Could do nothing. But the worst of their humiliation wasn't over it. Before they knew it something cold and thick got poured over their heads causing them to gasp in shock as the coldness ran down from the top of their head; ruining whatever mess was of their hair and down their face; dripping onto their uniform and down to the floor to mix with the chopped off hair.

A smoothie. A goddamned smoothie just got dumped over their heads. Right there in the middle of the hallway. Y/n tried to stay strong. Tried not to cry as the seconds ticked by. They wouldn't give these bullies a reaction. But god was it hard. Why wouldn't the issues just stop? What was so wrong with wanting to be something? Wasn't the Clergy supposed to be open-minded for things like this?! And then the straw that broke the camel's back. A figure came walking down the hallways in his usual pope robes like the king himself.

"What is the meaning of this? What is going on here?" Papa demanded looking at the gathering of his clergy.

His eyes widened when his mismatched orbs met those of Y/n's over the heads of the siblings and Y/n felt the first tremble of their lip. Papa quickly shooed everyone away as he neared with urgent steps toward the distressed clergy member and draped an arm around them; allowing the long length of his sleeve to act as a blanket to hide as much of their body as he could; not like it would have done much more then dirty his robes.

"Back to work, all of you!" his voice raised before his gaze landed on the culprit with a stern glare. "And you, meet me in my office in 20 minutes!" he demanded harshly before he was turning; leading Y/n away from the group that still lingered and toward his office.

Once inside the office Papa set the sibling into a chair and went to grab a towel to help clean them off. "Oh mio caro bambino." he murmured as he knelt beside them and gently began trying to wipe the smoothie from their skin.

"Why didn't you come to me when this happened?" he asked softly and Y/n shook their head avoiding his eyes.

"This has happened before? It's been going on for quite some time, hasn't it?" he guessed as he watched the younger's lip tremble even more and the first salty tear running to mix with the sugar of the smoothie on their face.

"Oh tesero..." the man pulled the other into him; gently petting their hair, not minding the smoothie that now coated his gloves. "You should never be afraid to come to me when trouble arises." he said softly; his heart aching when the other wrapped themselves around him; hugging so fiercely he feared he'd crack a rib under their grip.

"I'm sorry Papa. I didn't think it'd get this bad. I didn't want to bother you." they cried against his shoulder and he could do nothing but rub their back trying to calm them down.

"Don't worry, I'll fix this. They'll get a good talking to." he reassured and suspension if he had any say in the matter. Hell he had half a mind to kick them straight onto their asses out of the Abbey's Gates.

"No! I-if you say anything it'll only be worse!" Y/n protested but Papa only pulled away to give a stern look.

"This has gone on for too long, bambino." he told them while wagging a finger in their direction. "No one deserves to be treated as such; especially not over something as silly as pronouns. It is ridiculous. You go by whatever pronouns you want, you dress the way you want, you can change your name for all I care; it will not make me love you any less. The Abbey is a home for people much like yourself and no one should make another feel so insignificant for just living their lives the way they wish." he told them sternly before his expression softened.

"What can I do to make this better?" he asked searching their face.

"Mountain." Y/n wiped their nose. "I want Mountain."

"Consider it done. Come, I'll walk you to him. He's back in his quarters with the others." he told them as he helped them rise to their feet.

"Papa your robes." Y/n's expression seemed almost devastated as they saw the mess on his sleeve. He chuckled a bit and shook his head.

"They can be washed, no need to fret. Come come. Let's get you to your ghoul." Papa led the way to the ghoul's wing and knocked on the door.

Dewdrop answered and it took him a second to realize who was standing there. His brows scrunching up in confusion before his brows shot up at the sight of Y/n.

"For the love of Satan, what the hell happened to you pipsqueak?" he demanded.

"Bullies. Where's Mountain?" Papa asked pushing his way through the doorway while looking around.

"He's in his room." Dewdrop muttered scanning Y/n body with a critical eye. "Damn, they did a number on you didn't they?" he sighed as he guided them to the couch where Rain sat playing a video game with Swiss.

"Holy Hell!" Swiss gawked over at them when they caught sight of the mess Y/n was in.

"None of that now Swiss. They are upset enough as it is." Papa chided lightly before walking down the hall towards Mountain's room.

"Wait here, honey." Rain murmured resting a hand against Y/n's shoulder before standing and heading for the kitchenette. The sound of rushing water from the sink was the only sound echoing in the room for a minute before the water ghoul returned with a bowl and a kitchen towel.

He sat down beside them again and dipped the cloth into the warm water in the bowl before beginning to wipe at their skin with a concentrated look of furrowed brows. Papa returned moments later with Mountain who looked sleepy; must have been taking a nap that Papa woke him up from. He looked around the room before he tensed seeing Y/n.

"What...Happened?" his rumbling voice demanded as he narrowed his eyes and rounded the corner of the couch to sit on the armrest.

"They cut my hair...and poured smoothie over me." Y/n muttered looking down at their hands in their lap that shook slightly.

"Damnit." Mountain sighed. "Come on little one. Rain follow us. We'll give them a bath to wash all that sticky off and see if we can't fix the hair." he offered which the water ghoul nodded to and rose readily to help.

Y/n took Mountain's offered hand and followed the ghouls back to the Earth Ghoul's room before going straight to the bathroom. The tallest paused in the threshold and looked down at his human friend.

"Would you like for Rain to go get some more of his bath products?" he offered but Y/n shook their head.

"No...I just...I just want to get cleaned up. No pampering this time." they sounded so tired; just from sleep deprivation but tired of all the hate they seemed to get simply by breathing.

Mountain nodded before scratching one of his horns. "Err...my bathtub is kind of broken; I don't have the drain plug anymore so it'll have to be a shower. Do you want Rain to help you while I go get some items to help after?" he offered and after a moment of hesitation and a glance over at the water ghoul who waited patiently nearby; Y/n gave a nod.

At this point, Y/n had no issue with being naked in front of the ghouls even if they were not Mountain; the humiliation or the embarrassment spent in full with no returns it seemed. So they undressed and stepped into the spray of shower water. Rain was thoughtful enough to keep his boxers on at least. While Mountain went to grab some stuff to help clean up the messy chops of hair left Rain dutifully helped wash the smoothie from the other's hair and body with a gentle uninvasive touch being respectful as he did so.

"Mountain told us about what we going on. We didn't know you had it rough Y/n/n." Rain murmured as he scrubbed shampoo into their hair.

Y/n shrugged tilting their head down to not get shampoo in their eyes. "I thought if I ignored it it would just blow over and disappear. But when I'm a walking talking target I guess it's not that easy."

"You're not a target; they are never meant to hurt their own no matter what gender or pronouns they use. It's not right." the water ghoul touched Y/n's shoulder. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

A small smile tugged at Y/n's mouth. "Yeah...that's what Papa said too." they sighed. "I just want it to be over...I'm so tired of feeling unloved just for existing."

Mountain stepped back into the room and pulled the shower's glass door open a bit to peer inside. "You're not unloved, little one. At least not by the people that matter to you. Fuck whatever anyone else says." he piped up and hearing that profanity coming from the usual gentle giant made Y/n start laughing under her breath as Rain rinsed off the suds.

Once the pair were done and Y/n cleaned, the ghouls helped dry them off. Dressing them in comfortable clothes. A pair of boxers from Dewdrop, some sweatpants from Phantom, and a shirt from Mountain that hung damn near to their knees but at least they were clean and mostly dry; comforted by the different scents of spice and cologne of the other ghouls that wafted from the clothes they wore.

Y/n was placed onto a stool in front of the mirror and Mountain's tall frame came into view behind them. "Are you ready?" he asked tilting his head down to look at the little human who nodded with resignation.

"Yep...Can't walk around looking like Chucky." the smile was a little forced but at least they were trying to stay positive despite what happened earlier.

"I'll go make you something to eat okay?" Rain touched their shoulder in farewell before slipping from the bathroom after throwing on some clothes Mountain brought in for him.

The room was filled with quiet snipping sounds as Mountain took one chunky lock and began carefully cutting; trying to even the pieces out. It sort of made Y/n feel like one of the Earth's precious plants he was trimming down to perfection. Despite his large height and even larger hands, he was gentle and very careful as he measured each strip of hair between his fingers before cutting.

"Papa's going to make an announcement soon; a reminder about policy in regard to the bullying." Mountain broke the silence as he worked.

"Oh? On my behalf?" Y/n mumbled staring at themselves in the mirror. "Won't that make me a target all over again?"

"Of course not. Papa doesn't play when it comes to bullying. Bullying ends lives if taken too far and that's the last thing he wants. He cares about you little one. We all do. Some siblings may be too scared to come forward but they won't target you anymore and if I know Papa he'll have already expelled the bullies from the Abbey and kicked them on their butts." Mountain smirked slightly and even though Y/n shouldn't feel any satisfaction about it; they did.

"Alright...what do you think? Do you want to go shorter or does this look good enough?" Mountain finally put down the scissors and Y/n lifted their gaze to study their hair in the mirror.

It was so much shorter than it had been before; like a mixture of a pixie haircut and a boyish haircut. It was different to see their own hair in that style but it also somehow made their face transform. How funny that hair could do that to a person. They reached up to touch their hair before nodding slowly.

"I...like it. Actually," they confessed with a small smile. "Thank you, Mountain..." they murmured.

The earth ghoul nodded and allowed the little human to reach behind them to grab his arms; pulling his long limbs around them like a blanket and he rested his chin on their head with a small smile; a rumbling purr emitting from his chest as he allowed the hug.

"If it makes you feel better, this new look suits you. Take this new experience and new look to start fresh. Keep your chin up and don't let anyone bring you down; okay? You are worth more than just what you look like."

Y/n laughed a bit and nodded slowly. "Yeah...maybe I just needed a haircut to give me a boost." they said playfully and Mountain smiled back at their reflections; happy to see the usual spunk returning to his human.

"If you want I can ask the girls to help you with a new wardrobe if it helps too." he commented making Y/n eyes light up a bit.

"Really?"

"Why not? Might as well. New change new you." Mountain let go of Y/n and dusted off the stray hairs from their shoulders. "Come on, let's go check in with the others. We can watch a movie and get something to eat. Okay?" he offered his hand and Y/n readily grasped it; hopping off the stool.

"You know. I kinda love you." Y/n stated with fondness as they bumped against his arm with affection causing the Earth ghoul to rumble out a chuckle and look down at them.

"I kinda love you too, little one." he replied before ushering them back to the living room.

Rain had indeed gathered them a meal and the others were gathered in the living area with a movie playing as they waited for the last pair to return. Y/n had gotten lots of compliments from their friends and each one helped boost their confidence level. They lay against Mountain's side munching on whatever Rain had made for them feeling content and loved; a feeling they hadn't felt in a long time since joining. With the promise of new clothes and the new haircut made them feel seen for once and as they looked around the room they realized an important lesson or two.

One was that no one had the power to dictate who they were; to decide or to make them feel unworthy of love or acceptance simply by being themselves and that self-love was a powerful thing.

Secondly, while they had been so desperate to fit in with the members of the Clergy; they had done it all wrong. Because quality meant more than quantity and as Y/n looked all around the room at the unmasked ghouls lounging around them they would rather have these ghoulish creatures and Papa over the dozens of those residing in the Abbey. And that realization brought a smile to their face as they buckled down and turned to watch the movie; knowing that no matter what lay down the road - they had the new confidence to walk it because they did love themselves, accepted themselves for who they were, and they had a bunch of weirdos who accepted them as well wholeheartedly.

[a-queenoffairys]

Ok so there's been some confusion around the new Mini Brands Fashion (series 3) and I'm here to share my discoveries. The videos and photos I've seen from American collectors show a collection with 60+ minis to collect, whereas the ones I bought yesterday here in Australia have 80+ to collect. The thing the American ones are missing? Shoes. One pair in every capsule.

Honestly the shoes really make this set for me, they all look really nice. Some are made of plastic (similar to most Barbie shoes) with real laces, some are a leather-like material with plastic soles, and the strappy heels have different materials like fuzzy fabric, ribbon or tulle added to them.

And they're pretty suitable for Barbie dolls. I tried them on an original MTM body and a curvy MTM, and they're a bit loose on the original but fit quite well on the curvy! Which is cool, since curvy-sized shoes are kinda hard to come by where I live. Here are some comparison photos, the leg on the left is original body, the one on the right is curvy.

Out of all the shoes I got, the exception to that was the red leather boots (pictured further below with the red bag), which have thicker fabric around the top. I found it hard to get them on and off an original body, and couldn't get the curvy foot in there without risking damaging the shoe.

Some of the shoes balance well enough for the doll to stand alone, particularly the flat shoes or ones with shorter heels. I tried some on Rainbow High and Monster High G3 and they were too small. They fit the newer Miraculous Ladybug dolls but they're a bit loose.

Another thing is how the sets are sometimes colour co-ordinated. Like with previous series, the accessories aren't random; depending on the bag you get, there are different set combinations of accessories that will go with it. And in the capsules I opened, a lot of the accessories were picked to match the colour of the bag. That made them a lot of fun to open up.

I got 16 capsules and 1 was a duplicate. Here are the photos!

So if you're looking to collect series 3 and you want the shoes, keep an eye out for the capsules that say 80+ instead of 60+ to collect.

More information and observations under the cut.

I didn't get a photo of the capsule before I opened them all, but I got mine for $10 each from Kmart, which is the same price as the previous series (usually $12 at other stores but I've only seen series 3 at Kmart so far). They were displayed in boxes of 12 which didn't have a sample collectable displayed in a little window.

The American ones I've seen seem to have a sheet of press-on nails in every capsule, and I assumed that was how they were going to replace the stickers from series 1 and 2 but still keep the price down. But for the capsules I opened, the thing you got in every one was a pair of shoes. A single shoe seems to count for one of the five surprises, so each capsule contains one bag, two shoes and two other accessories (a pair of earrings counts as one).

I guess my main issue with some of them is that the leg part is on a bit of an angle instead of pointing straight up, so you get a bit of stretching/wrinkling if you try to stand the doll straight.

Oh and some of them don't have as much detail as they do in the photos from the collector's guide (like the thigh-highs and short tan boots) but I'm not too bothered by it.

I'm also not game to try and thread the straps on the blue fuzzy heels through the buckle, the hole looks very small and I feel like I'd strip off some of the fluff trying to squeeze it through. So I'm not sure how that one would go, even as a collectable for display instead of as a doll accessory.

The pink flats in the last photo aren't a great fit on Barbie, they're very long compared to the doll's foot. The strap is supposed to fold up and wrap around the ankle, which was a bit awkward to try and do right.

[snowmiserboio]

to clarify I dont do drama commentary anymore, I did that in the early days of my channel. all those videos are gone and forgotten but lily falsely striking sai's videos in an attempt to either silence her or grab her info is fucking vile, I mentioned I did a few videos on lily previous but took them down because even though I hate lily I still wanna be accurate and not spread misinfo, I wasnt fully confident in what I was saying in those old videos. however copyright striking on youtube isnt something I need to deep dive to do and get lost in a never ending rabbit hole that leads you to a lore bible so complex it rivals the chronicles of christian weston chandler, I actually was considering working on a script earlier this year when I became aware that lily potentially plagiarized people to make her videos. stooping so low that she stole jokes from some filmforum if I remember correctly. After everything thats happened within the last 24 hours I might continue work on this video since not only has lily gone from a bad person who also steals others work to now being a bad person who steals also works and who abuses the copyright system on youtube to silence others work.

heres the script for that potential video, I wrote this portion within the span of an hour and had to stop when I became mentally drained, so if theres typos you know why

The original catalyst for this video was a quote tweet where someone was replying to a tweet showing that puss in boots the last wish took very obvious inspiration from spider verse. The person quote tweeting this took it the wrong way and thought the user was out right saying puss in boots stole the prowlers character and responded to this tweet as such “Hbomberguys video has made everyone a plagiarizing expert” a bit unfair to blame harry for this but oh well it's the internet people are going to be mean about you if you've made something doing well it's bound to happen. Now this video is not about this singular tweet that I can no longer find due to this being from a few months ago. Instead this is about possible years worth of plagiarism being uncovered now and how one of the worst video essays ever made on youtube might have been completely stolen from others. Thats right were talking about LILY FUCKING ORCHARD. 

Now if you're a longtime fan of the channel. somehow. you'll know I've talked about lily orchards before. Twice. I've since privated these video due to them being poorly done and in the heat of the moment. Because even if I dislike lily I don't want to spread false info about her if I'm not sure if it's true or not. But ever since the last video I made on lily I've grown as a person aka I can now actually make an in depth video that isn't shit. if you've been online for the past 5 years you’ve probably seen or heard of lilys video “Steven Universe is garbage and here's why” which is a 2 hour long video essay that took media literacy outback and said “Tell me about the space nazis george” before shooting it in the head. This video is the cause of a lot of misinformed critiques about steven universe to this day. I'm not saying Steven universe is perfect but if you honestly agree with most of the points in this video you’ve either never watched the show and just want to hate on it because its not courage the cowardly dog or any of the other shows you watched as a kid or you honestly just. Didn't understand the story. This video has gained 8.5 million views over the course of 5 years. Which for a 142k channel is actually pretty decent. So I'm sure a large amount of people agree with her opinions! Let's check the comments. Oh wow a large amount do agree with her- wait a minute 931 comments? On a 5 year old video 8.5 million views that's not right. The views on this video far surpass lilys subcount she should have more comments. Granted not 8 million or even 100k comments but there should be at least 5 to 7 thousand. Lets check on a channel slightly bigger than hers. A personal favorite of mine. Alfaoxtrot is a channel with 425k subs who made a video 2 years ago called “How I Became a Liminal Space Photographer '' and it's sitting pretty on 3.6 million views. Nearly 4 million views less than lily but 283k subs more than lily. So for reference we’ll count the amount of comments on alfas lowest viewed video. Which is his 10k subscriber special which is just 19k views. And the amount of comments on that video is 338. Which means has 700 more comments on her 8.5 million view video than a 19k video. The numbers dont add up. Do you wanna know how many comments are on alfas most viewed video? The one that has 4 million views less than lilys video? 10,865 comments. Hell a video from moistcritkal made 2 months ago with 6.1 million views has 31,000 comments on his video. Now I hear you asking “what are you getting at snow?” which is a fair question. What im trying to say is that lily. A critic of cartoons,youtubers and politicians. Cannot take criticism herself. Thats why theres only 931 comments on her most viewed video. Because shes been mass deleting comments disagreeing with her videos. I bring this up to show people who know nothing about lily who were dealing with. Its know that deleting comments on the internet that criticize you or even mock you is a “Bitch move”. This is amplified if your whole career is dishing out criticism or jokes at others expense. Which lily does both.

Had I continued you working on the script I would've brought up that Hbomberguys video fallout 3 is garbage and heres why, the series shes clearly inspired from, that has only 500,000 views more than her video and is a few years old has TRIPLE THE AMOUNT OF COMMENTS,

back then this seemed, pretty pointless to harp on. I mean its well known lily deletes her comments but after everything that's been going on with Sai it would make for a good set up to show that this now going so far to she's actively censoring people on their own channels and threatening to do so to others, I know I said I wouldn't make another video on her but I just might just to rub it in her face that if hbomberguy knew about her plagiarism he would be disgusted that someone made something inspired by his work and did it in a way that he despises

This dude really came in with a steel chair out of nowhere to be the first to make a video on the copyright strikes 🤣

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

chamomile, chapter fourteen

A/N: the gif in the moodboard is by @fightingdragonswithwho

summary: walking you all the way home, Spencer isn't quite ready yet to say goodnight and neither are you. 

warnings: kissing, idk being super tired?

word count: 1502

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Ascending the stairs and walking up towards your door, it was only now that you noticed. Spencer hadn’t let go of your hand. Not for one second. His hand had been glued to yours since you were in the parking lot. 

You usually unlocked your door with the key in your right hand, but since it was unavailable, you reached the other one down into your coat pocket to fish out the small jingling bundle. With a satisfying sound, you stuck it into the hole and turned. 

Swinging the front door open, the visage of your home made you halt your feet’s natural instinct to move inside. Turning around, you leaned against the frame, letting your head tilt to the side, touching the hard surface softly. 

You were supposed to go your separate ways long before you reached the threshold of your home, but you hadn’t. He’d just kept holding your hand. 

“I should properly go to bed before I fall asleep here in the hallway,” you whispered groggily, dancing your thumb over his knuckles. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out slowly. 

“Goodnight Spencer,” you gave his hand one final squeeze, but just before you could let it go, he grabbed on with his other hand.

“Wait, Y/n, I, um…”

“What?” you straightened up a bit, looking at him with soft eyes. 

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but, um,” he looked down at his converse, “can I stay here? Just for a little bit? A few minutes till you’re safe and warm under the covers?”

Letting out a sigh of relief, “yeah, I’d really like that,” not being ready yourself to let go just yet. 

Flashing you a drained smile, he followed you inside.

Backing up, you dragged him with both of your hands through your apartment. You almost stumbled over the doorway into your bedroom, but thankfully, being just a little bit more awake than you were, he caught you.

“Ooh,” you chuckled, as he pulled you towards him.

“Well, now I’m happy,” he giggled, “think of the serious injury you could have gotten if I didn’t come in with you.”

“A sprained ankle at the least,” you let your bag fall to the floor, “thank you.”

Finally letting go of your hands, you took a step back to shrug off your coat. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you bend down to pull off your boots, occasionally glancing up to see Spencer, leaning against the doorframe and looking around the room, studying all your little nick knacks.

Letting his eyes rest on you once more, you couldn’t help but remember the last time he was in this room with you. How that night had changed everything. 

Noticing the slight shift in your demeanour, he nodded, ripping you back from your depressing thoughts, “are you gonna sleep in your jeans tonight?” 

“Um,” you looked down at your body, then up at him again, “I don’t know. I’m honestly too tired to even know the difference between up and down right now.”

Breathing out a smile, he pushed himself into motion. Opening up your closet, he looked back at you, about to ask what your preference for sleepwear was, but this time you were quicker than him, “the green one, on the top of that pile,” you pointed.

Retreating said nightgown, he handed it to you, “here you go,” and then shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

Smirking up at him, you started to unravel the neatly folded dress, “so, are you just gonna stand there and watch me change?”

Eyebrows shooting up, he blushed, “um, nope,” then closed his eyes for a second to clear his head with a thin breathy laugh, “I was just about to, um,” clearing his throat lightly, “go get you a glass of water.”

Slowly starting to unbutton your shirt, “that is very kind of you. The glasses are in the cabinet above the sink.”

Giving you a tiny thumbs up, he slipped out. His head was properly full of memories just like yours. In the meanwhile, you got changed, brushed your teeth and everything else that was an absolute must before falling asleep, nothing more, nothing less. 

Returning from the bathroom, you saw him set the short, dangerously full glass down on your nightstand. Looking like he was about to say something to you, his words got caught in his throat as he turned around to see you. This nightgown wasn’t that crazy, but it wasn’t exactly something you’d show up at the office wearing either. 

Walking over to the opposite side of the mattress from where he was standing, you crawled under the duvet. 

You knew exactly what was bound to happen in a few moments. He was gonna leave you. Sure, it was just to go home and sleep, you’d see him again tomorrow at work, but right now, after the night you’d had, you didn’t want him to go. You didn’t fully believe he’d actually said half of the things he’d said, so him just leaving made you fear he’d take those proclamations with him, just as his presents. 

Just as he was about to turn to the door, you muttered, looking down at your lap, “please don’t go.”

Feeling the mattress dip under you, you blinked up at him, now sitting beside you.

“Can you stay? Please?” you asked, “I already feel like this whole night hasn’t been real, so if you go, I feel like that would just make it true. You’ll disappear and it will all have been a dream…”

“Y/n,” he laid his palm on top of yours, “I’ll stay here for as long as you want me to.”

You didn’t know why you still doubted it all, “really? Because I totally understand wanting to home and sleep in your own bed and not my tiny one-“

“Your bed is not that tiny,” he interrupted, pulling off his cardigan.

“No, but a queen-sized bed doesn’t exactly let both of us starfish, now does it?”

Kicking off his shoes, he chuckled, “well, yeah, you’re right, but then it’s good I don’t need to sleep like that.”

“There is of course also the couch if that makes you feel more comfortable-“

“Y/n, I can go sleep out there if you want that. I’m comfortable with whatever you want.”

“Here,” you blurted out, “sleep here, if-, if you’re okay with that.”

“I am,” he searched your eyes, “are you?”

Simply nodding in response, you laid down, pulling back the covers to invite him in. Still basically fully clothed, he curled up beside you, tugging the duvet up over your shoulder, then resting his hand there for a moment.

Gliding your fingers up to wrap around his wrist, you closed your eyes at the soothing feeling his touch sent throughout your body. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” he scooted a tiny bit closer, “just go to sleep.”

Biting your lip, you looked up into his chocolate-brown eyes, “I can’t,” your fingers played with the button on the cuff of his shirt, “I’m scared to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

“Because if I do, I think I might wake up and find out this was all a dream. Go back to you hating me.”

“Hey,” he touched your cheek, “I don’t hate you, I never hated you.”

“Yeah…”

“Hey,” he moved to hold your face with both hands, looking deeply into your eyes, ensuring that you got the message, “I love you. This is not a dream. Do you want me to pinch you to prove it to you?”

“Ouch,” you giggled, more out of surprise than pain, as he actually did it, “okay fine, maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

“Alright fine,” you moved your hand down his forearm, “Just please don’t disappear when I wake up.”

“Y/n, I promise you that I am not going anywhere. You can tie me to the bed if you want. Or better yet, I have some handcuffs in my bag, I can just cuff myself to you-“

“No, no, no,” you chuckled lightly, “it’s alright, you don’t need to bolt yourself to me-”

“I would though,” he smiled, “If you wanted me to, if you needed me to, I would.”

Feeling the effects his grin had on you, you softened up a bit, “well, that is very unpractical, losing mobility like that, but I understand what you mean, and I’d do the same for you…” you really, truly would. You were completely at his mercy. Not moving a single muscle, you breathed out, “you know I’m in love with you, right?”

He was already smiling, but those words, that sentence, changed it. It wasn’t that it grew wider, it just changed. His eyes flicked lightly, and he simply looked at you for a moment, let it sink in, before he slowly leaned in closer and let you close the last bit of distance for a feathery and sweet kiss.

“Goodnight,” he nuzzled his nose against yours softly.

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[jkknight98]

Exile in Flesh ( a mini story/gift)

OK so @sprite-addicted-artist I have to say that I’ve absolutely enjoyed all the drawings you have made, because gosh are your expressions on the characters so amazing. There was one set of three drawing that you made that I wanted to write for so badly when I first saw it, even though I was working on two other projects at the time, it was always nagging at the back of my mind. I kept it short since you were able to tell a clear story already, I just really wanted to sprinkle in some writer spice.

So here’s the small little story I had tumbling in my head, I really hope you enjoy it and it fits with your vision for drawings.

Warnings: Angst, fear of unaliving, Dream’s treatment of Tommy.

Dream wasn’t mad, he might have been annoyed with the human, but he wasn’t mad. Tommy always managed to make his life exciting but for once did he wish that the boy would do to what he was told. He looked on with his arms crossed as the boy threw his equipment into the hole, he was actually a bit impressed with how much he had collected since he had last visited, but he still had to learn a lesson. He sighed as the boy held onto the iron helmet a little too long for his liking, flicking the end of his tail irritably as he leaned forward,” Come on Tommy... You know what you are supposed to do.”

The boy didn’t move, his fingers gripping the metal so hard that his knuckles were turning white,” What If I don’t want to Dream, I worked so hard for this…. it's not as easy for me at night like you… you talking boot.” A low hiss rattled in Dream's chest in warning, he enjoyed Tommy’s spark most days, but he didn’t enjoy being compared to snake skin boots; it's offensive. “I’m tired Dream…I don’t want to do this anymore…this house smells terrible… no one visits me anymore… I hate this-” The large scaly tail quickly slammed into the boy's chest, cutting off his yelling and sending the iron helmet flying off to a forgotten place.

The tail quickly wrapped itself around the boy as Dream loomed over him, leaving him trapped in a wall of coils,” Ooh Tommy… we’ve been over this… you either listen to me or you have to be punished… or do I need to remind you?” the boy tried to back away, a hand moving to cover his face where a dark bruise under his left eye already stood out on his face, a previous lesson. He reached out both hands, one to grip the back of his shirt and the other moving down to grip the boy's chin, a finger gently brushing over the bruise. “ Would you like a fact Tommy….Did you know a Nagas bite can kill a ranvenger,” he smiled widely to show off his fangs and enjoyed the panic forming on the boy's face,” One drop and who knows how you would turn out~” He flicked his tongue out slowly at the boy and managed to get a taste of his skin… and it made him take another. The boy tasted a lot better than he expected… there was salt from the sweat sure…but there was an underlying meatiness that made his stomach rumble lowly. He hadn't really planned on biting the boy, and he still wasn’t.

*~*~*~*

Tommy was terrified of everything happening, was Dream going to bite him just because he fought back?? He didn’t like how quiet the naga got, staring into the pinpricks of green hidden behind the smiley mask, and felt the fingers grip his face tighter,” Dream... Wait, please... I'm sorry… I won’t.” He tried to struggle more as the hand holding his face moved to hold his writs, making him yelp painfully as all of his weight was being supported just by the appendage. The naga just shushed him in a mock sense of comfort,” Don’t worry Tommy I’m not going to bite you anymore,” the hand slowly moved downwards which made him sigh in relief, Dream was just messing with him, but he was swiftly jerked back into the air before the smiling face,” But I have a better plan.” Tommy tried to kick his feet out at the smiling face, fear momentarily forgotten but his blood turned cold when instead of moving to avoid the blow, the fanged mouth opened wide to quickly snap then within its grip. He froze, if he moved he might be poisoned, he thought Dream wasn’t going to bite him??

*~*~*~*

Dream hummed lowly to himself as he wrapped his tongue around the quivering ankles, tasting more of the meatiness, he was going to take advantage of this moment of quiet from Tommy. He took a long and deep breath before he swallowed hard, dragging the teen downwards and shivering it the delicious feeling of his throat and chest expanding to accept this morsel. He his collarbone separating, Tommy is definitely the biggest thing he’s ever swallowed, and definitely wouldn’t fit in his upper stomach. So to the lower stomach he would go..

When the first whimpers and small thrashes started, Dream brought his teeth down onto the exposed skin he uncovered with his tongue, pressing down just enough to dent the skin, and gave the now crying boy a look that said ‘If you continue to squirm I will bite down… so keep still’ The message seemed to have registered as it wasn’t long before the boy’s wrist was the last thing in open air and the taste of salt fresh on his tongue. He purred loudly as his upper stomach was stretched to full capacity, his upperhalf completely stretched and filled with such wonderful warmth.. And it was only going to get better…He took a moment to give the shaking hand a final squeeze with his teeth before shoving it down with a final lick and heavy swallow. Dream sighed heavily as he place his hands over the thrashing lump in his torso, feeling the boy writhe under his skin and traveled further downwards, he thought he could hear muffled yelling under the skin, but he ignored it in favor to just enjoy the sensation of his lower stomach being filled to the brim…. He thought about letting Tommy know he would be fine, it would take days for the lower stomach to kick into gear, but this was supposed to be a punishment afterall. The kid can stew for a bit. Dream paused just enough to grab Tommy’s jacket and lay it over the still thrashing lump as he stretched, a sunbath after such a filling snack sounded really good right now…

 *~*~*~*

 Tommy was terrified… he didn’t want to die.. But what was worse, death by poison or by being eaten alive??? “Dream!! Let me out! PLEASE!!” But the naga didn’t seem to hear or care as the walls around him groaned and squelched, rubbing the sticky liquid surrounding him more into his skin and clothing. He managed to turn around and reach back for where he had come from, pressing hard at the lightly yielding muscle and begged for release, but he still received no answer. As his tears mixed with the slimy fluids..Tommy decided to rest his head on his arms.. Dream wouldn’t do this too him right, he didn’t bite him with his poison (venom tommy)…. And if he wanted to take his last life…he wouldn’t do it this way. As his mind continued to whirl, Tommy didn’t notice he was relaxing into the surprisingly soft flesh around him, being almost rocked into slumber by the living world around him as it slowly warmed by the sun raining down on it.

If anyone were to pass by logstedshire that day all they would find is a large Naga dozing on a poorly built hut with a patchy blue coat laid over a portion of its body, but as we all know, no one ever visited.

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

what is hybrid marking

8.2 million results. 

While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-

“How do I look?” 

The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.

“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”

You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots. 

When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder. 

Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to. 

You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.  

“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.” 

You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars. 

“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?” 

“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.” 

The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it. 

“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”

He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod. 

You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”

He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it. 

The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.”  They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away. 

The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”

“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you. 

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” 

You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?” 

“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”

“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”

“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”

Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.

Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off. 

You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises. 

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements. 

“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”

“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better. 

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 

“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?” 

Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”

That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation. 

“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech.  “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.” 

You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.

“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.” 

The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem. 

“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him. 

“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”

You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself. 

“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”

Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.

“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”

All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”

“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.” 

The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival. 

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”

You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.” 

The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile. 

“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”

You frown. “Jimin-”

“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips. 

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger. 

“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips. 

“I’ll do my best!” You say,  a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go. 

“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”

“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.” 

It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”

True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.

The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”

“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.

“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”

He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong? 

Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.

Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”

Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.

Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation. 

Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.

You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.

The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.

Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.

Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.

You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.

“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’

You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound. 

“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”

“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?” 

“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”

“But you were his attorney.” 

For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.

The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.

“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.” 

The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater. 

Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.

You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.

Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.

“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”

You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.” 

“Can’t you just have him apologize?”

Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.” 

You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”

The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach. 

“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”

“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door  just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you. 

The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.

Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears. 

“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”

“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.” 

A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.” 

The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor. 

“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”

You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you. 

This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director. 

“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.” 

Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth. 

“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”

That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-

“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.” 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”

“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut. 

You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back. 

If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white. 

One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding. 

The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue. 

There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster. 

“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”

A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.

“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster. 

“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.” 

You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.

“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”

“And his mother?” You ask, quietly. 

“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following. 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car. 

You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad. 

You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks. 

You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart. 

She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard. 

You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys. 

“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.” 

You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.

The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. 

The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you. 

“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”

“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you. 

“Ms. Y/N-”

“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you. 

You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope. 

Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind. 

Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip. 

His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now. 

You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.

The room is a veritable Eden. 

There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful. 

“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too. 

A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-

A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.” 

You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”

He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines. 

He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian. 

“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”

“I’m not here to deliver your food.”

He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”

You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”

He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”

“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar. 

Your stomach turns. 

You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him. 

His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”

You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you. 

When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day. 

You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again. 

“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.

You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.

“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down. 

“Do you need time to pack, or-?”

He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be. 

How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden. 

He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside. 

You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest. 

“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant. 

You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”

His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.” 

Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”

“Fourteen.” He bites out. 

“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth. 

The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.” 

A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion. 

However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 

A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him. 

“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”

Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“

A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.

“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!” 

The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints. 

It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?”  It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him. 

A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”

He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly. 

She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?” 

It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he  doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.

“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs. 

“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.” 

You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.

“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine. 

“Joonie-” he pleads. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim. 

To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore. 

The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow. 

You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.

The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”

He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”

“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.

“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.

He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled. 

“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”

“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot. 

“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked. 

The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence. 

You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.

Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you

You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.

Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi

Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply

You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!

Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi 

Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call

You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.

“...Hello?”

“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly. 

“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”

“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy.  “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver. 

“...Yeah.” 

You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through. 

Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you

“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”

The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”

Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head. 

“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions. 

“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.

“What do you-?”

“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon. 

“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.

“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”

You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.

It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that. 

The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.

“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”

Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.

He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city. 

“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”

“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”

His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king. 

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”

“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier. 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come. 

You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby. 

It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout. 

Yoongi. 

“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back. 

“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low. 

You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical. 

“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls. 

“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.” 

Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”

“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger. 

This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”

It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?” 

You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.” 

The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify. 

“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”

“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up” 

You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.

The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat. 

Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him. 

“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?

“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now. 

“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling. 

By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period. 

Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow. 

By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.

[soothinglee]

GOODBYE |||

requested by @starjane312

warnings:: none

summary:: welcome home?

previous - next

your shoulders shake severely as you trudge through the cold tundra Technoblade called home. it had to have been days since you began walking. running out of food and going off of the little water you happened to have on you, your demise felt as if it was growing closer and closer. Pulling the wool sweater across your body tighter, you look behind you as deep boot tracks follow your every step. from what you could see, the trail went on for miles.

You shudder as your thoart becomes tight, you gasp lightly as you struggle to unscrew the cap of the metal canister that contained your water. hastily you drop all the items into the snow and frantically open the container to reveal that there was but a single drop of water left.

"dang it." you hoarsely utter moving to pick up the items to sling them across your back. "I need more water, if I don't get it will stop me from going on. I dont want to die alone." but how? water looking around for a moment you take in the white surroundings. Everything within a 10 mile radius is dead and all of what had been the ponds were all frozen up.

you look down at your feet, the snow started melting around the heat of your shoes. wait, melting? when the snow melts you can drink that water, it may not be filtered but it's going to have to do.

You bend down sideways and scoop as much of the snow you could get into the canister. Once you got that fresh colored snow into the bottle it started melting within a few minutes. This should last you awhile until you get to your destination;

Technoblades house.

Technoblade had just finished fixing mutton broth for his dinner when he heard a weak knock on his door. he stops moving and listens closely, careful to not make any sound. He gently puts the giant rusted pot back onto the oven top to reach behind him and grab his netherite sword, but, he doesn't take it out. instead he keeps a hand on the grip and another on the scabbard. theres another knock followed by a weak 'hello?'. Technoblade tip toes to the door. He opens the peep hole to see a small child, with lips blue and skin pale trying their best to keep warm in the arctic weather.

'they couldnt hurt me, ill see what they want and if they mean harm i'll retaliate'

he opens the door just an enough for you to look up and see a icy stare back. but thats' not makes you back up. when you look down you see that his sword is merely inches away from your neck.

you put your shaking hands up in defense. "H-heyy Technoblade," you stutter, "long time no talk, amiright?"

"Who are you?"

you scoff "you dont know who I am? Surely my fathers have talked to you about me right?"

Technoblade backs up and opens the door wider, his eyebrows narrowed. from what you could see from behind his big stature, he was just getting ready for dinner, "are you...Michael?"

this makes you scoff harder, "no. I'm the other child, but I guess you wouldn't know who that is." you shake your head and put out your hand. "Hello Technobalde, I'm Y/n Boo, The first child of Ranboo and Tubbo. Nice to finally meet you."

When you first came in he was skeptical, he didn't know if you were with the butchers gang trying to kill him. So, he asked Philza to conform if you were what you said you were. Philza already knew who you were. he sat you down with a nice bowl of the mutton broth he had prepared before and gave you multiple bowls and many cups of water. he had said it was because 'He didnt want to have a child die somewhere it was not his hands.' okay, technobalde.

after that Techno allows you to stay at his home. Of course without explaining why you were there in the freezing cold with barely anything on you. you told him your story, you told him everything that had lead you up to this point. you expressed and explained how heart broken you were that your fathers no longer loved you. and he listened, he listened for hours on end as you sobbed your heart out. there were many tears, many unwanted hugs and soothing words.

in all honesty Techno saw himself in you. He had felt what you felt. the feeling of being unwanted and unloved in somewhere he grew up in his whole life. to him, that was the only reason he let you stay.

It had been a couple of weeks of you living at his house when there was knock of his door.

"please don't let this be another runaway." he comments throwing a towel over his shoulder to wipe his hands off. prior to the knock, you and him had been washing the dishes from the night before.

"hey! I heard that!" You yell from the kitchen throwing a small amount of water to the pigs.

He lets out a small laugh. walking up to the door he felt a sense of deja vu when looking out of the peephole. but, something felt off.

out stood there in the freezing cold was the three people he hadn't wish to see since you came.

"Technoblade! Nice to see you, we are looking for our child, have you seen them?" A photo of you and two others appeared.

tag list<3

@kusuinko

@angelicaschuyler-church

[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,185 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of suicide, gore, sexuality, fear and anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Someone dies and Daryl finally learns about Y/N's past.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Where ya goin’?” Daryl’s voice behind you as you headed to the gate, your recurve bow slung over your shoulder.

“Hunting,” you said. You’d been reserved since Hilltop and Daryl was worried.

He shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Huntin’ what?”

You caught his meaning and sighed. “Food. I promise.”

He nodded and paced closer to you. “Good. Look, if ya want to go out and hunt them, I’ll go with ya. Ya shouldn’t do it alone.”

You nodded. “Been doing it alone a long time now,” you countered. “But I won’t today.”

Daryl nodded. That was about as good a response as he could hope for. “Alright.”

“Where are you off to?” you asked, noting the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Denise found a place she thinks might have meds. She asked Rosita and I to go with.”

Your stomach twisted suddenly and you felt unbalanced. You didn’t know why… it sounded like a routine supply trip. But eventually you shoved the feeling down and nodded. “Alright. Be careful…”

“Ya. We will. You too, alright?” Daryl wished he was brave enough in that moment to—to do or say something more. He could sense that whatever had happened to you, whatever you knew about the Saviors, it was eating you. It had been since Hilltop, and likely even before, probably since the run-in with those men when he was laid up with his ankle. That time when you hadn’t been able to sleep and he had stayed at your house… And he wished he knew how to lift that burden, how to make it stop or at least lighter, but until you were ready to talk about it there wasn’t much he could do.

You came back that evening with a deer. The gates rolled open to admit you and you headed toward home. That’s when you saw the crowd gathered on the porch of Rick’s house, but something was wrong. No one was talking and their expressions were grave.

You felt your stomach lurch. You slung the deer down onto your porch and started walking over. Daryl broke off and met you halfway. You gulped at the tightness in your throat. He looked pale. “What’s going on?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes and he was chewing his bottom lip anxiously, drumming his fingers against his leg. “Denise,” he croaked, the gravel in his voice even thicker than usual.

You looked up, and the fact that everyone was gathered at Rick’s house and not outside the infirmary made what had happened clear. You felt like you’d been punched in the stomach. Your chest heaved with terrified breaths. “No… H—How?” you whispered.

“That guy with the girls I helped in that burnt-out forest, the ones who ended up fuckin’ me over, takin’ my bike and my bow… He’s one of them now.”

Your eyes narrowed. “The Saviors?” you asked in an undertone, your heart starting to race.

He nodded, finally lifting his blue eyes to yours. “Shot her with my crossbow right in front of us. Right—right in front of me.”

Your eyes glistened with emotion you were trying to hold back. “Oh God. No. No, no, no…” You were reeling. Your wide eyes had an unseeing quality.

Daryl gulped, speaking what was consuming him, a rasp in his throat as he fought emotion. “It’s my fault. I should have killed him. I should’ve made Denise stay back. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” you said forcefully, gently resting your hand on his arm. You stepped forward to look up into his face, which was now contorted with some emotion. “It’s not. Don’t do that.”

“It is. She wasn’t ready and I—I should have known they were there. We shoulda been more careful, not out in the open. I—It’s my fault,” he rasped.

You shook you head, holding his blue eyes. “No. It’s not. Even if you had killed him, we don’t know that anything would turn out differently. We don’t get to know. So, you have to stop.”

“I’m goin’ back tomorrow. I’m gonna track ‘em.” His grief and regret were turning into rage quickly.

“Daryl—”

“I’m goin’. He’s a dead man,” he growled.

Your eyes were wide and fearful. “Please, listen to me. Just wait. We can do this, but we have to be smart about it.”

“What’s smart is trackin’ ‘em before their trail disappears,” he growled. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch—"

You shut your eyes, a flash of emotion on your face and Daryl softened a little at the sight. “Just—come over later. We need to talk,” you whispered. You shot him one last look, the worry line you always got by your left eyebrow quite pronounced. You turned and went back to your house to deal with the deer you had shot. Daryl watched you drag it around to the back of your house and he thought that for even the weight of the deer, your steps looked heavy.

It was already late when you heard the front door open from your seat on the couch. “Y/N?” Daryl’s deep voice.

“In here,” you called back. His boots on the wood floor came closer and he appeared in the doorway.

“Ya alright?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No. You?”

He shook his head. “Nah.” Daryl sat down on the other end of the sofa, placing his own crossbow, recovered after the scramble with the Saviors that day, on the coffee table. He could tell you had been crying earlier. Your eyes were a little red. “What is it?”

Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t draw full breaths. It felt like there was a weight sitting on your chest that was keeping your lungs from filling. You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna tell you what happened to me. How I know about the Saviors.” You stared down at your hands and he heard you pull in a raspy breath. “I’ve never told anyone this…”

A shadow darkened Daryl’s face. “Alright.”

You sighed and licked your lips nervously. “I had a brother. He was two years younger than me. We were with a small group of people, holed up in some house, scraping in town for supplies. Just a group of survivors who fell together, like yours did. The Saviors showed up. They said they were going to ‘save us.’ Said we had to come with them and if we did they’d keep us safe and fed in exchange for labor. Of course, none of us trusted them. Who can you trust these days? We all knew they just wanted what we had, and maybe even just us, like commodities. We tried to fight. Almost all of us were killed and they got control of those of us who were left.” You passed a somewhat shaky hand over your eyes briefly. “Negan showed up. He executed one of our people in front of us. Bashed his head in with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and made us watch. Terrorized the rest of us. Spouted off a bunch of bullshit about how he hadn’t wanted to do it, but we had forced his hand. My brother and I survived, along with a couple of the others. They took us back to their headquarters.” You finally glanced over at Daryl and your striking eyes, looking wide and anxious, met his blue ones. “They call it The Sanctuary.”

Daryl thought of Denise, dying right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” Daryl said.

You shook your head. “I’m not even close to done.”

Daryl’s stomach hardened into a tight pit and he waited for you to go on.

“I knew right away that something was different… with me, I mean. They separated me from the group, from my brother. Shoved me in a tiny, completely dark, barren cell.” Daryl watched your brow furrow. “Just me. Alone. Sometimes I was chained up, handcuffed, sometimes I wasn’t. Every second of every day I just sat in the dark and wondered what horrible thing was going to happen to me the next minute. I didn’t understand why I’d been singled out at first, except maybe that I’d fought the longest. I didn’t know if my brother was alive or dead…” Your eyes grew faraway, detached, and Daryl felt like someone had twisted a knife in his stomach. You went on. “The isolation and hunger was bad enough but they had more in their playbook. They purposely kept me awake for days at a time—lights, loud music. Some real Guantanamo Bay shit. I lost track of time. I thought I was going crazy after a while. It was obvious they were trying to break me. And then one day, he came.”

“Negan?” Daryl asked. You nodded.

“He told me I’d paid enough for trying to fight. That he understood why I had and that I had a few choices in front of me. I could eventually die in that cell, I could work, or…” you trailed off and shut your eyes for a moment. “He told me he thought I was…different. That I was tough, brave because of how I was during the fight and after. He said he’d—he’d taken a special liking to me and said I could marry him, be one of his wives, and live the way we did before the world fell apart. All I had to do was take care of him and his wants and needs and he’d take care of me.”

Daryl was staring at you with a scowl on his face, his stomach twisting at your words. His eyes were narrowed and he was so still he looked frozen. Anger was boiling in his chest. You gulped, hoping to clear your throat but weren’t successful.

“I asked him if my brother was alive and he said yes. I told him I’d work. I just wanted to be with my brother. So, I became one of the workers in The Sanctuary. You work there to earn points, which you use to ‘pay’ for food and whatever else you need, but it’s never enough. It’s slave labor where every once and a while they throw you a peanut. Conditions are terrible. And after a while, my brother and I were both almost wishing we were dead. But at least we were still together.” You settled back more deeply into the couch and sighed. “Negan rules with an iron fist. If someone tries to escape, someone steals, screws up at all…” Your face contorted as you thought about what you’d watched him do. “I’ve watched him do the most—inhuman, horrendous things... unfathomable. I watched him burn people with a hot iron, brand people, beat people to death for not following his orders perfectly… And his men? They’ll do the same things in his name, some of them worse. The whole place is guarded, patrolled, locked down like a fortress. But more than anything it’s the fear that keeps people there… And I was trapped in it because all I wanted to do was keep my brother alive and for us to stay together.”

You stopped for a moment and Daryl watched as you tried to steel yourself to go on.

“It was like that for a while. We were practically starving, always just waiting for the next thing, the next trauma. And then I got sick… Very sick.” Your eyes flitted up to meet his. “A blood infection. I was dying. And they’ve got a doctor, medicine, but if you use them you owe more than you could ever pay—and that means they own you even more than they already did. It’s just leverage to them. My brother—” your voice broke. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment and Daryl could hear you pull in a few slow but ragged breaths. “He tried to steal some antibiotics. To save me. And he got caught.”

You were silent for a long moment, trying to stop yourself from crying. Daryl just waited, feeling sick to his stomach, feeling enraged, wanting to tell you it was going to be okay, but knowing he couldn’t... Nothing he could say was going to fix whatever you were about to tell him. He knew that.

“I ended up in the infirmary anyway. I don’t even know how. I had been so delirious with fever and I can’t remember a lot from around then… But when I was better, eventually, Negan came to see me again. He told me they were going to make an example of my brother. He broke the rules and Negan couldn’t have people thinking you could get away with that. I knew what that meant. Negan would kill him horrifically. In front of me and everyone else.” Despite what you were saying, your voice was somewhat detached. It was like you were on autopilot as you explained, like you had told the story in your head a million times and were just replaying through it. Daryl thought you probably were.

“But he gave me another—another choice,” you said. Your tone conveyed that it was presented as a choice, but there was no refusing. “His offer still stood. If I ‘married’ him and became one of his wives, he’d spare my brother’s life and erase all of our debts.” Just saying the words made you feel sick and Daryl watched as you reached a hand out to clutch onto the arm of the couch as if you were spinning and needed grounding. “What could I do?” you asked, turning to look at Daryl again, your eyes frantic, devastated, shining with tears that you were barely containing. “I just thought—‘I need to keep him alive.’ That’s—that’s all I could think and I would deal with the rest of it later.” You opened your mouth to continue speaking but the words wouldn’t come out and your gaze at Daryl was desperate until you couldn’t look at him any longer.

“Hey,” he said. “Ya had to. S’alright. Ya didn’t have a choice.” He moved closer to you and was brave enough to gently lift your chin so you would look at him again, and the glistening in your eyes hit him like a punch. “Ya had to,” he said gently.

You nodded, shrugging vaguely. “I agreed. And Negan didn’t kill my brother but he cut off his hand in front of me and everyone else.” Your jaw clenched and you shut your eyes against the flashbacks.

Daryl stared at you in horror as you took a breath, trying to hold yourself together enough to continue. His face was growing darker and darker as you told the story.

“But we went on. He worked for points and I—” You couldn’t even speak of it. “For a while, that’s how it was.” You were suddenly silent and Daryl felt yet another twist in his stomach, apprehension about what was coming. You continued, your voice disconnected again. “And then one day Negan came in and told me that my brother—” you gritted your teeth against another wave of emotion. “My brother killed himself.”

You hurried on, afraid you wouldn’t be able to get anything else out if you didn’t rush through it.

“And the thing is—” your voice broke, “even that he didn’t do for himself. He didn’t do it because he was miserable there or because he couldn’t go on.” Your bottom lip quivered. “He did it because he knew that while he was there, alive, I wouldn’t leave. If he was alive, I wouldn’t try to escape. He killed himself to save me, to give me the option to get out.”

Daryl felt a sinking emptiness in the middle of his chest. For a moment he just sat still and watched as you struggled not to go entirely to pieces, but he couldn’t allow you to reel the way you were any longer. “C’mere,” he said gently. He enfolded you in his arms and you sank in against him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He could feel your shuddering breaths and he held you tighter to him, his heart racing, feeling sick waves of horror and anger. He rested his chin on the top of your head. “Ya got out. You’re out. S’alright.” He smoothed a hand over your hair and down your back until you stilled somewhat. You pulled back only slightly to look up at him, your faces mere inches apart.

“Do you understand?” you whispered. “You can’t just go barreling after them, Daryl. You can’t. I—I can’t lose you.”

Daryl gulped, his eyes flickering between yours… But inside he was thinking that everything you just told him was exactly why he had to go...

“I hear ya,” he said finally. He pressed you tightly against him again, shutting his eyes and relishing the feeling of you beneath his hands, even while his mind raced. He held you for a long time, until you seemed to have calmed again. Finally, he pulled back and looked into your face. “It’s—it’s gonna be alright.”

You soaked in the reassurance of him, calmed by his deep voice, his hands gentle on your arms.

“It’s—It’s late… Ya gonna be alright if I go? M’sorry. I don’t wanna leave ya but I wanna check on everybody…” he murmured.

You nodded. “You should. It’s okay. They—they probably need you. I’ll be fine,” you said, knowing it was probably a lie. You were sure you’d have nightmares that night if you managed to sleep at all. You slipped from him the rest of the way and as you separated, he felt like you took some part of him with you.

“G’night,” he murmured, climbing to his feet and collecting his crossbow from your coffee table. As he picked it up, he couldn’t help but think about how the bolt that had killed Denise had left his bow. He should have killed that asshole when he had the chance. “Y/N. Ya should tell Rick,” he said, nodding. “Ya should. If ya can. It’d help him understand, ya know?”

You considered him for a moment. “Okay. I will,” you replied. You watched him across the kitchen as he made his way to the front door, the wings on the back of his vest catching the light differently than the leather, almost looking like they were glowing. With his hand on the handle of the front door, he glanced back at you and gave you a thoughtful look. You managed a somewhat sad smile at him, anxiety still pulling one of your brows inward, and then he disappeared outside.

[multi--kpop--fanfics]

(Not) Such A Good Boy

sub!bf!Juyeon x dom!fem!reader (ft. Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae)

genre: smut, slight crack, a bit of fluff towards the end

contains: dom/sub themes, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), marking, biting, spanking, Juyeon is a brat on a choker and a leash, unprotected sex (be safe y’all)

Author’s note: This man right there has been wrecking my existence lately (I blame Kingdom) and this GIF screams sub!Juyeon so yeah, enjoy this filth

“Lee Juyeon, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you scoff under your breath. You have been waiting for the past twenty minutes in the living room, outfit and makeup on point, since you were about to go clubbing with your group of friends. But apparently, your dear boyfriend had lost all sense of time, trying to get ready.

Visibly irritated, you storm to your shared bedroom, your heels angrily clicking on the wooden floor. “Juyeon, I swear to God-” you mutter and stop mid-sentence, only to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, fully dressed and a lop-sided smirk plastered on his handsome face. 

“You called, babe?”, he asks teasingly and before rolling your eyes, you give him an once-over, processing his choice of clothes - a pair of tight black leather pants that were hugging his muscular thighs deliciously, a pair of black combat boots, a cropped black sweater with holes around his clavicles and a black belt-like choker around his neck. He was the epitome of the emo bad boy that all parents hated and all girls craved. 

“Um, what is this?”, you question him with a pointing finger. "That, is my outfit for tonight", Juyeon states, the previous smirk still on his face, "What, you don't like it?". "Isn't it a bit unfair for me to wear not so revealing clothes all while you're dressed as an emo himbo?", you complain and he laughs, "An emo himbo? Wow, you're getting more creative with your descriptions, Y/N. You're right though, it's a sort of questionable outfit". You perk up at his response, hoping he'll change into something more colorful and less hole-adorned, only to be utterly disappointed, as Juyeon reached into the closet only to drape a black leather jacket on top of his broad shoulders. "Now we're good to go", he turns to you and winks with audacity. Brat, you scoff mentally and pick up the keys to unlock the door and finally leave your shared apartment.

"Finally! What the fuck took you so long?!", your friend Eric yells at you, trying to overcome the loud bass of the club speakers. "Your complaints to your friend over there, he was the one who took twenty minutes to get ready", you roll your eyes pointing to Juyeon, who was greeting Hyunjae and Kevin, your other friends. "Yooo, Juyeon, what's up with the collar, bro?", Eric amusingly points out. "It's a choker, you tasteless twat. But what would you know of fashion, since you only know how to wear t-shirts and ripped jeans?", Kevin comments and Juyeon mouths a 'thank you' to him. "Simple is the best, my dear friend. Besides, I've been getting all the girls, unlike you and your snake print jacket", Eric retaliates. "Excuse you, this jacket is a fashion statement!", Kevin bites back, feeling insulted. "Not gonna lie though, it does look like a collar. Will you put him on a leash too, Y/N?", Hyunjae comments in a snarky way, making Eric cringe in disgust. "Hyunjae, please go get some drinks, for God's sake", you reply with a dismissive manner. "Yes ma'am", he rolls his eyes and goes to the bartender.

You turn to Juyeon, who was extremely stiff after Hyunjae's comment. "You okay, baby?", you nudge him softly and he's brought back to reality. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, no worries", Juyeon replies, praying that the loud bass could cover his shaky voice. "Don't listen to Eric and Hyunjae, they have zero fashion sense, bro. I would wear that choker too, looks hella good on you", Kevin adds while pointing to the choker and Juyeon's smile is back on his face, "Thanks, bro, I really appreciate it", he replies with a chirpy tone.

The music suddenly changes into a slower jam and Juyeon smirks devilishly, as he winks at you and walks towards the dance floor. You watched as he starts swaying his hips and shoulders in the most smooth way possible, his half-lidded eyes never leaving yours. Eric and Kevin were whistling and cheering on Juyeon, all while Hyunjae was snorting at their antiques. You were simply lost in the image of your boyfriend dancing like there was no tomorrow. He wasn't just following the rhythm, he was riding it - and boy, was he good at doing so.

In fact, he was so good that he gained the attention of many people in the club. And you were lowkey proud, because that man was yours. However, a certain girl wasn't aware of that - hence why she approached Juyeon and started dancing with him. You were a bit jealous, not gonna lie, but the next moment made your blood fucking boil.

He had the fucking audacity to put his hands on her waist and dance with her - all while looking to you over her shoulder with the most smug expression on his face. That fucker, you mentally curse. This was definitely payback for everything you said before you left the house. You just knew it. You weren't even the jealous or possessive type of girlfriend to begin with.

But you'd be damned if you were to let a random bitch run her hands over your boyfriend.

Hyunjae catches up to your motions and he grabs you by your wrist. "Hyunjae, what the f-" "Shut up and listen to me. Going there and creating a scene will not end up well for you and you will give Juyeon exactly what he wants", he states and his words hit home faster that you expected. "Since when did you become so perceptive?", you raise an eyebrow and he chuckles, "I have my moments too, Y/N". "So, since your brain decided to actually function tonight, do you have any idea?" you ask in defeat and Hyunjae starts pulling you to the dance floor by your hand, leaving Eric and Kevin completely baffled. He then pulls you into his chest and leans in your ear to whisper

"Just dance, Y/N".

A Cheshire cat-like grin spreads on your lips, as you catch up to his ulterior motive and you start dancing with Hyunjae, hoping that Juyeon will notice the two of you. "Don't think too much about it, it will happen naturally", he adds, "You're too stiff, Y/N, just relax and enjoy dancing".

His words actually succeed in making you relax and you sway your hips more comfortably, actually enjoying the slow jams echoing through the club speakers. Under the dim lights, you lock eyes momentarily with Juyeon, who was licking his lips and his gaze was a mix of lust and death glares, the last one directed to Hyunjae. "Told you it would work", he comments, "You owe me this one". "Shut the fuck up, Hyunjae", you spit back and he laughs.

However, his laughter is cut short by a very jealous Juyeon, who has grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Next time I see you dance with Y/N, I'll break your fucking kneecaps", he growls and Hyunjae takes a step back, "She's all yours, bro", he raises his hands in defense and returns to the table. Juyeon then turns to you, his blood still boiling with jealousy, as you watch him with a proud smirk.

"You find this funny, huh? Dancing shamelessly with my friend?", he clenches his jaw. You then thread a finger through his choker and pull him close to your face, making Juyeon gasp. "Funny? No honey, I'm fucking fuming right now, because you decided to act like a brat and put your hands on the first bitch that threw herself on you", you retaliate, your chill facade slipping away. A sickly sweet smile adorns Juyeon's face as he watches every single movement of yours. He lowers his head, his lips hanging mere centimeters over yours and he slyly pokes out his tongue to lick your lips, hissing at the wet feeling.

"You're so fucking hot when you're mad, baby".

That was the last straw.

"Get your stuff, we're going home", you announce and he flashes a toothy grin. "Yes ma'am", he replies almost immediately and you return to your friends' table. "Guys, we'll be leaving now, hope you enjoy the rest of the night!" you announce and Eric looks between Juyeon and you. "Do I want to know what's going on?", he questions and Kevin pats him on the back while shaking his head as in 'no'. You both bid farewell to your friends and you walk out of the club, jogging towards your car. Juyeon whips out the cars keys and he opens the door for you, his gentleman-like gesture a complete contrast to his previous bratty behaviour.

The ride back home feels like it lasted for hours, when in reality, it lasted only ten minutes - maybe it's your sheer desire to fuck your handsome boyfriend to oblivion. By the time you entered your shared apartment, your lips were on Juyeon's neck, your hands roaming his toned body and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"You love acting like a bratty slut, don't you?", you sneer at him and he releases a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, and so do you", he whispers and he trails kisses upon your neck and behind your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "Are you going to punish me for being a bratty slut?".

You thought you came right there and then, 'cause fuck, he is so hot like this.

"Is that what you want? Fine then, you'll get the punishment you deserve, slut", you hiss while gripping Juyeon's jaw, your manicured nails raking his porcelain skin, "Don't say I didn't warn you", you whisper into his ear and he releases one of the lewdest sounds you've ever heard in your life. "God, you're a desperate little bitch, aren't you, Lee Juyeon?", you ask while removing the detachable strap of your bag and clasp it on his choker, creating a make-shift leash. "Only for you, baby", he replies with a sultry voice and half-lidded eyes.

You pull him by the make-shift leash, and you push him onto the couch, where you settle yourself on his lap, his hard cock straining his already tight pants. You remove his shirt, exposing his chiseled body. Wasting no time, you attack his collarbones with your lips, trailing red and purple blotches on his soft skin. You bite the juncture of his neck teasingly and he releases breathy moans, making you chuckle. You grind your clothed core on his bulge, and the sweet friction makes Juyeon mewl again. He tries to reach for your crotch with his hand, but you stop him by pulling the leash, making him gasp.

"No sweetheart, no touching tonight", you chastise him, as you pull back to remove your clothes and his pants, leaving the both of you only in your underwear. Juyeon's bulge is even more evident now, the thin material of his boxers having a wet spot, due to his cock leaking pre-cum. The sight in front of you makes your own wetness pool in your panties - your boyfriend on a leash, his perfectly styled hair now disheveled, his upper torso covered in love bites, his muscular thighs fully spread and his cock straining against his boxers.

"Baby, fuck, please do something", he pleads with bleary eyes. "Lie down for me", you order and he's laid flat on his back with one swift motion, his desperation showing. You remove your underwear and place your naked pussy right in front of his face. He reaches for your thighs with his arms, but you slap them away. "I said, no touching", you say sternly, "But-", "You should have thought twice before touching that bitch with your hands. Now, be a good boy and use your pretty mouth", you demand.

Juyeon pushes his wet tongue into your heat without second thought and he's lapping up your juices like a starved man. You can't help but moan with satisfaction, having him under your control like that gave you a huge adrenaline rush. You raked your nails from his torso to the hem of his boxers, the sensation making him moan and momentarily halt his actions. You slap his left thigh to alert him and his cock twitches, the vibrations of his moans coursing through your body as well. Juyeon now flattens his tongue against your folds with a faster tempo.

"You like it when I spank you, huh? Naughty boy", you smirk and land another slap, this time on his right thigh. Juyeon retaliates by sucking on your clit harshly, making you yelp from pleasure and you feel him smirk against your pussy. You find the leash and tug it, pulling Juyeon's face even closer to your core. "Behave, or you'll sleep without cumming tonight", you warn him and he whines, but resumes his efforts nonetheless. "Good boy, k-keep it u-up", you stutter as you feel your high approach with each passing second. His tongue is alternating between circling your clit and pumping in and out of your hole, the squelching sounds creating a pornographic scene.

You scream as you cum on Juyeon's face, your whole body shaking, as he helps you ride out your orgasm with kitten licks. You pull yourself together and turn around to face him, as he nastily licks his lips to taste your essence. "Sweet like fucking candy", he comments, "Want a taste, baby?". You pull him by the leash and crash your lips on his, tasting yourself, as your tongues dance crazily in a battle of dominance. "You're still acting like a brat, but since you did as I said, maybe you deserve to cum after all", you state and bend down to remove his boxers and free his painfully hard erection.

"Y/N, stop fucking teasing already!", Juyeon whines again and you slap his thigh again, "Where did your manners go, baby?".

"Please, Y/N..."

"Please what?"

"Please use my cock to cum"

"Fuck, such a good boy", you moan and spear yourself onto his hard cock, the sudden stretch tipping between pain and pleasure. You give yourself almost no time to adjust and you start riding Juyeon like a mad woman. He pistons his hips in unison, pounding into you with a speed neither of your brains are able to register. You put your hands on his broad chest for support and he holds your hips with his hands so tight you might get bruises the next day. Neither of you are able to contain your obscene moans nor form coherent sentences, way too lost in pleasure and lust.

"Fuck, Juyeon, you're such a good boy, so good for me", "Only for you Y/N, shit- only yours", he groans and his hips start to falter, signaling his upcoming orgasm. "I-I'm close again, nngh..", you mewl as you feel your insides clench around his cock like a vice. "M-Me too, Y/N please let me cum, let me f-fill you up baby", "Oh God, yes, fill me with your cum, babe", you moan loudly.

Juyeon moans with you as he stills himself, his cock twitching uncontrollably and flooding your cunt with his hot cum, painting your insides white. You collapse on top of him, panting heavily, the both of you sweating and spent, laughing breathlessly. You muster all the strength you have left in you to remove the choker from Juyeon's neck.

"Oof, thank you baby", he nods, rubbing his neck softly. You swipe a few dark strands of his forehead. You notice the marks on his neck the choker left and you can't help but feel a little regretful. "Did I hurt you?", you ask sheepishly and Juyeon smiles softly and presses a kiss on your nose. "No baby, you were perfect. We should do this more often, actually. You look hella sexy when you take control", he teases and you playfully smack his chest.

"So you intend to dance with random girls in clubs?", you ask and Juyeon smirks,

"No, but I intend to be not such a good boy for you".

[savagesbonergarage]

A quickie with Maul WITHOUT PLOT

Hmmm....

Wise of you to add that on the end there.... But is it gonna be effective? We'll see.

I'm gonna make this 100% just self-indulgent porn since that's really all it needs to be right

I'm malfunctioning how did they get there what's the occasion and the timeline and the state of the relationship and the galaxy and ahhhhhhhh okay I need to get it together

UPDATE: LMAO IT’S SO LONG AND THERE’S KIND OF SOME PLOT, I FAILED SO EXPONENTIALLY HARD. 🤡

(A/N - General ns/fw, definitely more explicit than not, but overall still not super hard stuff?, quickie, bj, power kink I guess?, hidden feelings, I think that’s about it honestly, if I’m missing something let me know)

Throne sex? Throne sex.

Maul

"... And Prime Minister Almec's influence has recruited warriors from among the civilians who would join our cause," you reported.

You stood alone before Lord Maul, who sat in his signature pose with his mechanical leg propped up atop the throne of Mandalore, resting his head on his hand as he gazed out the large transparisteel pane with a look of complete boredom and disinterest. He didn't even bother to look your way as he responded drily. "Fascinating."

You were tempted to raise your eyebrow sightly, but even though he wasn't looking at you, the fear of confrontation kept you from doing so.

"Will there be anything else, My Lord?"

The zabrak finally managed to direct some of his attention to you, his menacing eyes looking you up and down as his countenance changed with an ominous smirk. "Yes. How long before my blissful solitude is once again interrupted?"

You immediately checked the chrono on your datapad, afraid that you may have caught your new leader in an agitated state. The last thing you wanted was to be a recipient of his anger if you displeased him somehow, so you opted to simply be efficient in the tasks you were given. "You have a meeting in about eight minutes, My Lord."

"I see..."

Something about the way he was intently gazing at you made you uneasy, as though you weren't quite finished here and were expected to know why. You straightened your posture and put your datapad away before you geared up to leave. "Do you require anything else of me, Lord Maul?"

There was a new look in his eyes, something you hadn't ever seen until now, and the sudden change in contrast from before of his full and immediate attention on you sent a strange, yet not unwelcome shiver coursing through your body. Somehow you felt the previous uneasiness slip away and in its place was...dare you acknowledge it...want? Whether it was involuntary or not, the powerful man before you had you wishing there really was more you could do for him.

His gaze was nearly leaving burning holes everywhere his golden eyes tracked on you, each place they lingered a pathway into some rather inappropriate thoughts as it was fairly obvious exactly which parts he was shamelessly staring at. What's more, you didn't mind it in the slightest. You felt a little exposed, but in such a delicious way. Could you truly be tempting him, or was he simply teasing you in some show of authority over you - or was he really just that bored?

Suddenly, your train of thought ended when Maul planted his leg back onto the ground and unflinchingly brought his gloved hands down to work at the sealing strip of his pants. You barely registered what was happening before an impressive phallic appendage was gloriously revealed, held between two of his fingers at the base as an offering. Despite being synthetic, it twitched and leaked just like-

"Well?" he implored nonchalantly with his non-existent brow raised in a curious manner.

It was too late to conceal the slack of your jaw and flush of your face, your heart pounding as you finally processed the reality in front of you. Reflexively, you swallowed and looked over your shoulder and then back to find that this wasn't some kind of joke or game, but a genuine request. It was a miracle you managed to speak coherently at all.

"Erm, right now, My Lord...? In eight minutes-"

"Seven, now," he interjected, adjusting himself to present his lap as a rather inviting seat, "but surely your schedule permits?"

He did have a point - and who were you to deny the needs of your handsome new ruler? You did make an obligation to yourself to do your tasks efficiently, and it wasn’t as though you were hesitant about the prospect of it, either. No, with an opportunity having presented itself like this, it would be suboptimal not to show your enthusiasm, wouldn’t it? Not to mention time was of the essence now, unless you were fine with a group of officials walking in on you fornicating with the dangerous zabrak...which, as you pondered the possibility, it only served to send that pluming heat within you to entirely new heights. He certainly wouldn’t stop if that were to be the case, and a hidden part of you hoped that it would indeed work out that way, if only so you could feel more like Maul’s favored slut.

You wondered if this was solely due to the influence of the beckoning sith atop his throne, or if you had secretly always been such a promiscuous person - in any case, it hardly mattered. The priority of the moment was in being a good little subject and serving your master, and perhaps if you did a suitable job, you’d be given the privilege of doing it again. In a bout of courage that faintly surprised you, you found yourself at the foot of his throne standing mere centimeters from his legs, careful not to touch him unless instructed to as you ardently asked the most important question of the evening.

“How would you like it, My Lord...?” You didn't bother to hide the sultriness in your voice, which seemed to please him immensely as the corner of his lip curled into a scheming smile, his hands quickly moving to your waist to pull you in closer as he answered.

"I trust in your discretion to satisfy me. I believe you already know what I want, and it seems that you're certainly eager to give it."

His hand slid over your thigh and to the source of your radiating heat, burrowing his digits between the crevice that the fabric of your pants was unfortunately shielding from the supple flesh there, yet that didn't prevent his touch from being any less euphoric. It might have embarrassed you somewhat at just how apparent your eagerness was, however it was clear that the man working at your own sealing strip was enjoying the spoils of your arousal already. His words still rang throughout your mind, making you relish in the freedom and permission that was implied there - he was asking you to be as slutty as you wanted, knowing full well that you were ready to be his whore the moment you first laid eyes on him.

He wasn't wrong.

With his affirmation to take charge and the ever-present knowledge that you were pressed for time at the forefront of your mind, you relaxed your inhibitions and got to work. After a few more ruts against his hand, his grip followed yours to your waistband and aided in tugging the annoying material to the floor, returning one to it's former place on your slick flesh as you stepped out of your pants and boots. It was impossible to suppress the moan that escaped your lips, however, you were aware that this wasn't solely for your pleasure.

Six minutes left.

You quickly got down on your knees and carefully handled his cock, licking your lips before you kissed the tip of the wet slit and wrapped your hot mouth around the circumference of the ridge, swiftly lapping your tongue around the head before you started sucking. His groan of approval fueled your movements as you gradually unhinged your jaw and began going deeper, bobbing your head with every stroke and eventually taking him as far as you possibly could. You gagged a little, but it didn't deter you in the slightest as every time you choked on him, a moan was drawn from his lips.

Not only could he feel everything despite not having an organic organ, your ministrations were proving to be more than what he was anticipating as he groaned and moved to grab a fistful of your hair to still your actions. Your hungry eyes meet his as you drew your head back and released his cock with a loud, echoing, wet pop and licked away the string of saliva that connected it with your bottom lip.

"Is everything all right, My Lord?" you inquired with a perverse lowness in your voice, already drunk on lust as he held you in place for a moment before slapping your waist in a gesture to rise through his uneven breaths.

"Up."

You complied with his order, lifting yourself back onto your feet as Maul practically pulled you into his lap by your thighs in a hasty move that nearly had you falling against his chest, but you were able to brace yourself against his arms. His dick rested against your abdomen, still warm and wet from your tongue as his fingers found their way back to your entrance to prep you for his cock. The way he tilted you upwards to lightly jerk himself with your own slick as he lined up with you was so tantalizingly good that you nearly forgot about the time constraint you faced.

Four minutes.

Your canines pierced your bottom lip as he entered you, the galvanizing pressure against your walls as you adjusted to him being so invigoratingly good that your hands gripped his shoulders without warning as you moved to sink down completely, ripping a gasp from the both of you in unison. You knew that you’d need an entire minute just to get used to the feeling of being so full, although sadly you couldn’t afford that kind of time in the present moment. 

Maul, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be too preoccupied with that particular technicality and held you firmly by your hips to keep you from shifting, and in an unanticipated move he rested his forehead along the curve of your neck. The heat of his skin and breath tingled across your own flesh, the sensation strangely more intimate than the actual joining of your bodies - rather, it felt like a different kind of intimacy entirely. It wasn’t merely in the way his grip on you remained solid or the new titillation of his lips against your skin; it was in the stillness of it all, how instead of insisting you ride him immediately, he preferred to simply feel you for an evanescent occasion, no matter how brief. 

You momentarily forgot the apprehension you had when the compulsion to kiss him infiltrated your mind - not the sort of lustful kiss that would be more appropriate for the situation, but a tender, more profound one. Would he mind such a gesture, you wondered, or would he even be able to discern the difference? One of his hands had moved from your waist up to the nape of your neck as you thought this, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth as he lured you in closer to him until you were chest-to-chest, the indication of the motion prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck so that you were symmetrical to one another.

Two minutes. Only two minutes until...

There simply wasn’t time for this kind of lenient indulgence or immersion, nor did the circumstances permit for the kind of casual affection you wanted to deliver. There was also the fear of him retaliating against a more tender action if he caught one to consider, so with a whisper of a sigh, you started rocking and bucking your hips against him.

Maul had been uncharacteristically quiet up until this point, an audible “oh!” escaping him as you continued your movements and utilized your nether muscles to grip his shaft with an ample amount of tightness. You fully planted your knees on either side of him and adjusted yourself so you could ride him properly - and in this case, that meant clutching onto his dick for dear life while you jerked up and down along his entire length like a jackhammer. 

His head rolled back and his eyes became half-lidded, the rapid rising and falling of his chest indicating his closeness as he kept one of his palms on your leg to grip the meat of your thigh for support. For the first time in minutes, he finally spoke again through a strangled groan.

“That’s it, stars it’s so...”

His train of thought seemed to leave him as you worked him even harder, somehow taking him even deeper when you kegeled with the entirety of his cock inside. A twinge of pain indicated that his cockhead was nearly breaching your cervix, a fact that might have concerned you if there was any reason to believe you could get pregnant - and even if there was...you weren’t so sure you would care. 

Less than a minute-

Luckily, it wasn’t long before you felt the crimson zabrak tense up beneath you and hold your hips tightly against him once more as he came, the spasming of his cock followed by the release of heat that filled your insides as he stilled and...

...and kissed you.

He had grabbed the nape of your neck again and brought your mouth to his all in one swift movement, capturing your lips with his own in a surprisingly graceful manner. It wasn’t chaste, his tongue immediately finding yours and warring with it as the dual beating in his chest matched the continuous pulsing of his gradually softening dick, but the action still caught you off-guard nonetheless. It certainly wasn’t unwelcome, and you found yourself matching his pace until he eventually relaxed, breathlessly parting from your lips and leaning back into his seat. 

There wasn’t much time to even think, as over the sound of your breaths you could hear the faint echo of footsteps down the hall fast-approaching. You quickly pushed yourself off of Maul’s lap and frantically gathered your pants, managing to hastily get each of your legs through the proper channels and hoist the waistband over your hips, still fumbling with the sealing strip while you faced your master as a barrage of stomping boots was perceived behind you. You ruler had managed to tuck himself back into his own trousers in time, a sly smirk hidden beneath his otherwise fierce countenance as he addressed you.

“We’ll continue this conversation where we left off later tonight.”

Your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. He was wanting to see you again, to have you service him again after this agreeably satisfying evening. You nodded, a faint smile gracing your features as you bowed and turned to leave, brushing past the officials entering the throne room who were none the wiser about the sinful conduct you’d engaged in with Lord Maul of Mandalore.

You still secretly wished the session would have continued longer than it had despite the newfound company.

And you certainly hoped to continue meeting and surpassing Maul’s expectations in the bedroom - or wherever he saw fit - for a long while to come.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Out from Darkness - Chapter Five.

I’m knackered, but fuck it, you beautiful people deserved another chapter, so here you go! Enjoy :) 

Previous Chapters - One  Two  Three  Four

Word Count - 2,743

Cast of characters post here

Tag list - In the comments

Warnings - Lil’ hint of smut! 

Ava pondered for a few moments after being asked, deciding on her next question for the vampire pretty quickly. “The immortality thing. You’ll live forever, I take it, unless you see sunlight, from what I’ve gathered, and then there are the silver and wood elements you’ll neither confirm or deny, but how are you impervious to it all?”  

Rolling up his sleeve, he knew such a question called for a physical demonstration. “Expedited healing, is how. Watch.” His fangs popped out, Chris biting into his own forearm and then showing her the wound, a wound that then healed over just as quickly as it came. No scarring, no nothing. It was as if he hadn’t just implanted two big teeth into his forearm at all. Ava couldn’t even speak, sitting open mouthed in wonder at what she’d just witnessed.

“If you were to hurt yourself, my blood would heal you, too. It’s one of the deals our powers that be have brokered with yours; our blood will be available throughout hospitals the world over to use in expedited healing, in return for willing donors to step forward in order to sate our sustenance. It means enchantment for feeding will be illegal, but apparently that’s a worthy trade for more ‘freedom’.”

“Why do I feel you might as well have gestured air quotes around the word freedom?” she asked, noticing how the sarcastic emphasis practically dripped from his fangs when he spoke it.

“Nothing, it’s just me being selfish because I’m reclusive. There are plenty of other vampires out there who want to reveal themselves and claw back a little of the way they lived as humans. Socialise in public, get jobs. Not everyone was lucky enough to die wealthy like I was,” he explained.

“Okay, couple of questions off of that,” she began, unzipping her boots and crossing her legs beneath herself as she turned towards him, Chris smiling. He liked how comfortable she was around him. It was nice, to spend time with another, someone not of his kind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had a long, proper conversation with a human.  

It then struck him. This was the first time.

“First one, what did you do when you were a human in order to be wealthy? I’m trying to imagine you working a career and I just can’t! Secondly, what on earth does a vampire need money for, apart from clothes, and how do you go about buying those? Internet?”  

“What I was when I was alive, I’d like to keep to myself a little longer. As I stated previously, a vampire has to have his secrets. My clothes are all mine from when I was human, so they’re pretty damned old now. Luckily since the world was on pause for a while and people had better things to concentrate on, so fashion hasn’t really advanced much since then, but then again, I’m none too bothered about such. I guess it will be good though, once we go public, to go buy clothes again. If you look closely, these have many holes and scuffs.”  

She hadn’t noticed before, but showing her the long sleeved, dark navy t shirt he wore, Ava made out a few frays and ladders here and there in the fabric. “If that’s what your shirt looks like, I dread to think the state of your underwear.” She joked, Chris raising an eyebrow.  

“I don’t wear it. Also, what happened to you being good?”  

“What happened to you upping the ante?”  

“It can wait, for now. I thought I’d be decent for once. Besides, I like talking to you, so let’s talk some more. Next question.”  

“Is it true about garlic repelling you?”

“Kind of. We don’t really like strong smells, and garlic is very potent, but not weakening.”

“Holy water?”

“Myth, like the not being able to walk upon hallowed ground or being repelled by crucifixes.”  

“Do you sleep in a coffin?”

“No, a bed.”  

“Do you feed on blood solely, or do you need food and water too?”

“Solely blood.”  

“Do you ever get lonely, up here by yourself?”

“Not anymore.” He smiled, winking at her.

“How long have vampires been around for?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought to ask anyone that either!”

“How do you get turned into a vampire?”

“Drained dry of your blood and then you drink that of your creator vampire. You’re then buried and dug up the following night, all shiny and new.”

“What about your family? You couldn’t tell them what you were, could you?”

He wasn’t as immediately forthcoming there, remembering them, the wife and two sons he’d had to leave behind. Laura, Max and Eddie, the beautiful family who had perished in the fires caused by the meteors. He’d searched and searched for them at night, until he’d found their bodies, burying them up in the woods there, but not near his home. It was too hard. It still hurt too much.  

“Vampires don’t return to their families for that reason, no. Also, we couldn’t even if what we were had of been widely known back then. Baby vampires are volatile, dangerous creatures. They need to remain with their creator until they’re capable of handling the new found power, the urge to fuck, feed and kill to a devastating degree. Creators keep us on a short leash and teach us how to behave, how to be a vampire without being completely unhinged.”

“Who’s your creator, and what are the like?”

“Magda, and I don’t like her at all. She’s a selfish manipulator. That’s something your father has likely learned, he’s met her several times while negotiating our outcoming to society, since she’s vampire regent of California.”

“My dad knows?” She looked utterly aghast at how her father could have kept something like that from her, but then quickly had her reasoning kick in. “I suppose it was bigger than him, though. There are likely all sorts of things I don’t even know regarding his job as governor. But hold up, how did you know my connection to him?”  

“Because she told me. Well, showed me. When I had to leave you rapidly, that was because she’d called me and two of my siblings back to her in order to fill us in on the fact our status is to be made public. She showed me a picture of your family and pointed him out as the governor, a picture of you all celebrating Halloween on the front of a local Pasadena newspaper.”  

“Ahhh, I understand.” Nodding, she smiled, glad to be clued in. “So, you don’t have a good relationship with her then, no? What caused it, exactly? Something she did to you?”

“Yes. Many things she did and continues to do to me.” He had an air of finality about his words that screamed loud and clear that he didn’t want to speak of her in any greater detail, Ava making a mental note that both his family and the vampire who made him what he was seemed to be sore spot for her large, undead friend. “I think I’m tiring of being the questionee. Time for me to ask you a few.”  

“Alright, that’s fair.”  

“What do you want to be when you’re finished at college? Actually, that was a wild assumption, but you know, you’re nineteen, you’re bright. I think it’s fair to assume you’re in full time education.”

“I want to design clothes, have my own boutique. Dad wants me to trailblaze, follow in the footsteps of Coco Chanel or Donatella Versace, and while I count both women as creative inspirations of mine, I don’t want anything that huge. Maybe more than one store might be nice, but I don’t want anything grandiose.”

“What do you parents think of you being a witch?”

“They don’t know. They’re very god fearing people and because of that, I’d be condemned. They wouldn’t get it. From what I understand, witches only really openly reveal what they are within a supportive family of other witches. What I am must’ve skipped a few generations, because no one else in the family is like me.”  

“Damn. Imagine what they’d think of this, then. Their eldest daughter, a witch too, no less, sitting enjoying conversation with a vampire. That’s who I can see losing their shit most when we’re revealed, the ultra-religious. We’ll be seen as ungodly demons or similar.” Ava didn’t doubt that at all. “So, no more questions. Just tell me more about you, what you like and don’t, etcetera. Who is Ava Martin?”

Ava Martin was a girl who sat there happily talking of herself and her life to the large vampire beside her, sharing interesting conversations and insights with him, learning a lot more about one another. In fact, she became so wrapped up in their discussion, she forgot about the life that carried on outside of his cabin, and the curfew she was about to break spectacularly.  

“Oh, shitting balls on toast!” she exclaimed after glancing at her watch, Chris snorting slightly with laughter at her choice of words. “I had to be home ten minutes ago and it’s a half hour walk! Fuck!”

“You’re forgetting something. Get your boots on, I can have you home in moments.” Pulling her feet into her boots, she stood up and left the cabin, Chris lifting her up into his arms. “Hold on tight.”  

It felt like she’d been fired out of a gun, the speed he moved with her at, her eyes watering as they rushed through the air, feeling a little overwhelmed by it until suddenly, they stopped outside her neighbour’s home. “I remember you saying last time about the guarded front gate, so I’ll leave you here.”

“Thanks for bringing me home,” she extended, smiling up at him.  

“Anytime. Actually, no. Next time, it’d be great if you stayed over.”  

“And when do you want this next time to be?”

“Friday?”

“Can’t, I have plans.”  

“Are you busy after your plans?”

“No, but I’ll be at Megan’s place.”

“Sneak out, come to mine.”  

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “No.”

“At least let me give you a preview of what you’ll get?”  

“Chris, I’m now fifteen minutes late, I have to go! I can see you on Saturday, but not for sex.”

“Alright,” he began, reaching to hold her face in his hands. “I’m still going to give you a preview, though.” Leaning down to her level, he pressed his mouth to hers, Ava about to pull away for a split second, until she felt that energy between them flare strongly, like a firework shooting around her insides. It felt foreign, since his mouth was cool in comparison to hers, the cold press of his tongue rolling gently against her warmth, but oh, how sensuous a kiss it was.  

She could feel little tingles prickling down her spine as he stroked her face with his thumbs, his fingers curling to caress her delicate neck, a low, happy grumble vibrating through his throat as she rested her hands to his chest, stroking, feeling as if she were melting into him. Her heartbeat quickened, her body feeling like someone was pouring raw passion itself through her veins. Oh, the want that charged through her as their kisses became more heated. It was unlike anything else any other had even touched upon evoking.

“So, Friday?” he asked with a grin when they finally came up for air. Well, when Ava did. Chris didn’t need to do such, being a creature who didn’t breathe.  

“Saturday, and I’m not having sex with you!”

“Damn, that’s some restraint. You impress me about as much as you frustrate me, Ava Martin.”  

“Sundown on Saturday. I’ll see you then.” He smiled, shaking his head, vanishing within a blink and leaving her to run up to her house and explain her lateness. Luckily, her mother was fine with it.  

“You’re young, chicken. I’m not so rigid that I can’t remember how that was. Besides, daddy is already in bed so he won’t know,” she spoke, sipping chamomile tea in the lounge, watching a repeat of a talk show.  

“In the spirit of that, would it be okay if I stayed out later on Saturday? A few people from college were talking about seeing a late movie, but it doesn’t finish until 1am. I promise I’ll get a cab right home, though. Please?”  

Sadie smiled, holding out her little finger. “Pinky swear, no later than one?”  

“Pinky swear. Thanks, mom. Love you.” She felt bad about lying to her mother, but she knew if she got into that kind of conversation with Chris again, she wouldn’t want to leave. Since she only got night time hours with him too, what else could she do? Ava gave her a hug before heading upstairs, taking a quick shower and changing into her pyjamas. It wasn’t until she was in bed that it hit her and she squeaked with excitement.

They’d kissed, and it was amazing. More than amazing. No one had ever kissed her like that before. Still, though, she was adamant Saturday would not equal sex. However, the way that kiss had left her, it had her reaching a hand into her pyjama bottoms. Meanwhile, back at the cabin, a pang hit the vampire who had made her feel so heated, Chris smirking through the candlelight as he felt her arousal flourishing.  

Something he hadn’t told her, which could be construed as devious – yet he himself would never deny that as a vampire, he was prone to being such – was that when a vampire imbibed human blood, they were capable of picking up on the emotions of that person. Even a single drop, and he could feel her arousal, know that she was touching herself, closing his eyes and imagining it as he undid his jeans and grasped his hardening cock.  

He could still smell her in the room, imagining she was still there, that it was her dainty little hand that had just encircled his shaft. He saw her there beside him, her blue eyes staring down into his, his hands pulling her top down and freeing her breasts from her bra, licking her nipples before his mouth caught hers in a kiss.  

What his imagination conjured while his hand tightened on his shaft, his fangs popping out as he groaned gutturally, it felt so real it was like she truly was there, seeing her above him, pulling herself out of her jeans and climbing astride him, taking his cock and guiding it to her soaking heat, sinking down.  

It was right in that moment, in her bed, alone, her fingers rubbing at her clit as she moaned softly that Ava felt it, the jolt, the current of arousal that wasn’t hers. Somehow – and she had no clue how – she was feeling his as well as her own. So, he’d resorted to the same as her, then. The thought made her grin as she continued to feel it in waves, her inner walls throbbing hard in response. He was there, yet he wasn’t.  

It was savage and feral, what she felt rippling through her, so steeped in masculinity, so wild. To feel it, his want for her right there within, all it took was a few more sweeps of her fingers, turning onto her front and biting the pillow as her hips bucked against her hand, her release claiming her torridly as her thighs shook. All she wanted right at that moment was him behind her, sliding himself into her aching cunt, filling her, fucking her mercilessly.

For the vampire who usually took hours to cum, feeling her orgasm running through him caused his own surging release, his load shot onto his stomach, knocked sideways by what he’d just felt, shared with her, even though she was three miles away from him.  

In times of exertion, vampires often began to breathe again, their body remembering. In that moment, with his chest still heaving, he certainly remembered feeling breathless, his eyes closing once more, imagining her there atop him still in all her celestial beauty, stroking him, kissing him, wet heat fluttering around his hardness.  

If it felt that outstanding when he was nowhere near her, just how assiduously would his arousal sizzle when he finally got to be inside her? The anticipation would have killed him, if he wasn’t already dead.  

[justthehiddleswrites]

Make Me | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  Tom takes off for a month of filming and can't find his favorite blue sweater. Reader finds it at home but instead of sending it along, she decides to have a little fun. What will Tom do when he comes home?

Warnings: Smut, FluffF, Long-Distance Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Sex,Vaginal Sex, Sexting, Teasing

-

“Damn it!” Tom cursed as he threw clothes around the room. He cursed again when he reached the bottom of the suitcase. “I swore I packed it!”

He grabbed his phone and punched in the number.  You stepped out of the shower to hear your phone ring. You smiled at the name on the screen.

“Hi, honey. I thought you weren’t calling me until tomorrow.” you cooed into the phone as you wrapped a towel around you.

“That was the plan. Have you seen my blue sweater lying around?” Tom snipped into the phone.

“Which blue sweater?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. You know which blue sweater, darling. The Smeadley one.”

You furrowed your brows at his tone. You know Tom is particular about his clothes, but you didn’t appreciate him snapping at you. “No, I haven’t.”

“Well, will you keep an eye out for it, darling, and send it my way. I would appreciate it.”

His pleading tone softened your poor mood a bit.

“Sure, honey—” “Fantastic, love. I will call you tomorrow. This place is a mess.” Tom interrupted.

“Okay.” you said back, your mood returning at Tom’s interruption.

“Love you.”

“You too.”

Tom hung up the phone, and you tossed the phone onto the bed. You moved to the closet to get dressed for the day. As you pulled a dress off a hanger, you glanced at the floor of Tom’s side. A tangle of shirts and pants covered the closet floor. You scoffed.

“Just once you could pick up after you pack?” you groused to no one in particular. As you pick up the discarded articles of clothing. At the bottom of the pile, you found a navy blue sweater. Tom’s sweater.

“Well, look what we have here.” you smirked as you picked the sweater up. You held the blue knit up to your face and inhaled the scent of Tom. The sweater smelled soft and masculine, citrus and woods. You placed the dress in your hand back on the hanger. You pulled Tom’s sweater on and looked in the mirror. The sweater was a bit oversized on you but it looked good. You pulled on a pair of jeans and some boots. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door for a day of errands.

-

As Tom sat on the set, he flicked through photos on his phone. He avoided social media as a general rule, but when he was away on set, he always peeked at your social media. He smiled as he watched you laughing and smiling back in London. His smile faded as his eyes scanned the photos.

“That little minx!” he muttered under his breath as he closed out Instagram and pulled up his messaging app up.

Anything you would like to tell me, darling?

Tom stared down at his phone waiting and willing your response and expected apology.

I don’t know what you are talking about? I love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you in three weeks. :heart emoji:

Tom frowned at the screen.

That is not what I meant. Are you wearing my sweater? My favorite sweater? The sweater you swore you couldn’t find?!

Tom’s eyes bored holes through the phone as he studied the three dots moving off to the side. Someone repeating his name interrupted his stare down. He looked up to discover a production assistant looking at him.

“They are ready for you, Mr. Hiddleston.” her meek voice asked and her eyes pleading.

Tom snapped the phone off without seeing your response and stood, straightening his costume.

“Of course.” he gestured behind her. “Lead the way.”

She smiled and hopped around to take Tom to set.

-

As you settled down to eat lunch, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out as you shoveled a big bite of chicken into your mouth. You smiled to see Tom texted you.

Anything you would like to tell me, darling?

Your brows furrowed at the loaded question looming on the screen. What did he mean? You typed your response, hopeful Tom would provide more information.

I don’t know what you are talking about? I love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you in three weeks. :heart emoji:

You continued to eat chicken and veggies as you saw the dots moving on your screen, waiting for Tom’s response. Your lips curled into a devious smirk when his text came through.

That is not what I meant. Are you wearing my sweater? My favorite sweater? The sweater you swore you couldn’t find?!

Ah, he has been trolling your Instagram account. You intended on wearing his sweater just the one day and then sending it along. But the sweater was so damn comfortable. So you kept it, wearing it more and more. You didn’t even consider Tom spying it on social media. But now you couldn’t resist taunting him.

You ran upstairs and threw the sweater on before taking a selfie.

You mean my sweater? :winking emoji: I found this discarded on the floor of our closet. Abandoned by its previous owner. :crying emoji: But not to worry I gave it a good home.

You giggled as you pushed the send button, tossing the phone to the side. You half expected Tom to call you but the phone set in silence. You snatched it back up and headed back downstairs to finish your lunch.

-

Several hours passed before Tom got back to his trailer and read his notifications. He saw you responded not long after he went to shoot his scenes. His smile dropped from his face at your message.

You mean my sweater? :winking emoji: I found this discarded on the floor of our closet. Abandoned by its previous owner. :crying emoji: But not to worry I gave it a good home.

Tom hated to admit the sweater accentuated your curves in a way that made his trousers tighter than usual. He pulled at them as he typed with one handed.

Not fair play, darling. Lying to me. You’ll pay for that when I get back.

Within minutes, Tom received another notification. His eyes bugged out at the latest photo. You stood there, still wearing his sweater, but you had pulled it down and angled the camera.   Your text caused the corners of Tom’s mouth to curl into a smile.

Make me.

-

Tom responded to your photo about when you sat down for dinner.

“Since when do we ever play fair?!” you exclaimed as you read Tom’s message. Your hands disappeared underneath the blue sweater and within moments you pulled out a nude lace bra, plopping it on the counter. You pulled on the hem, the neckline teasing at your collarbones. You took a couple of shots before taking a peek.

“We can do better,” you tsked as you flicked through the shots. You took a different angle, leaning over a bit. “Much better.” you noted as you selected one to send to Tom.

Make me.

You smirked as you put the phone down on the table and started preparing dinner for yourself.

-

The next three weeks was a texting tennis match between you and Tom. He would send photos of pretending to cry over his purloined sweater. While you countered with more and more lurid poses of you in various states of undress, save for your newly acquired sweater. Tom found nights in his hotel room growing more weary as his hand a poor excuse for what he needed, nay wanted, after seeing your pictures all day, every day.

The last day of shooting arrived and Tom couldn’t wait to get home, even going as far as asking Luke to book him on an earlier flight back to Heathrow. For once, his flight landed on time and traffic cooperated. He arrived at your shared home just in time to intercept the food delivery guy.

“May I take that please?” Tom inquired as he tapped the young man on the shoulder. The poor man jumped about two feet, bobbling the food containers.

“AH!”

“I am so sorry. I live here and would like to take the food inside. What do I owe you?”

The delivery man muttered out a number. Tom paid him, giving him a generous tip. The man handed the bags over and scooted down the stairs and back to his bike. Tom adjusted his jacket before hopping up the last few stairs and knocking on the door.

“How much do I… Tom!” you screamed as you opened the door. You lept into his arms, planting kisses on his face before kiss him on his lips. You pulled Tom into the house while he shut the door behind you.

Tom spun you around and pushed you against the door, his tongue insistent and his hands pulling you closer. As his hands traveled down from your neck to your shoulders, he pulled away as his hands settled on your hips.

“Is that my sweater?” he asked turned his face as you tried to kiss him again.

“I presume you abandoned this sweater. It’s my sweater now.” You pulled the hem out lifting it to show off your lacy cheeky panties.

“Stop trying to distract me, Y/N. I am back here to claim what is mine.” He tugged at the neck, pulling the top away from your body.

You twirled out of Tom’s grasp and headed for the stairs. “You and what army?” You snipped over your shoulder before sauntering up the stairs, hips swaying.

Tom lunged at you, grabbing you tight around the waist. He lifted you up off your feet onto his shoulders, carrying you to the bedroom.

“Oh I have an army, darling.” Tom growled in Loki voice, sending shivers through your body.

Tom pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and dropped you onto the bed.

“Now what you were you saying?” Tom whispered as he crawled up your body to suck on your pulse point.

You stifled a moan before quipping back “You will have to pry this sweater off my body.” “That can be arranged.”

Tom pulled the hem of the sweater up, revealing her underwear. You tugged the sweater down, but he grabbed your wrists and pulled your arms away.

“Oh darling, you know better.” he growled into your ear as he kissed down your neck. This time you let loose a small moan. “I missed hearing those noises over these past weeks.”

“I’ve missed you too.” you breathed as Tom shifted his grip to free one hand. His other hand continue to snake underneath the sweater.

“I missed your kiss,” Tom recited as the sweater lifted to reveal your heaving chest. “your breasts, your lips…” he leaned down and sucked your nipple, turning it into a hard pebble. You arched your back to meet his lips. “… but most of all I missed…” you held your breath “… my sweater!” he finished as he whipped the sweater off your body and threw it over to his side of the bed.

“Not fair!” you yelled as you attempted to pull away but his grip too strong.

Tom returned his attention to your other breast. “Since when have we ever played fair, love.”

You whined as Tom’s lips left and he stood up. He pulled off his own shirt and unzipped his jeans pushing them and his boxers to the ground. He climbed back on top of you.

“You’re overdressed.” he tugged at the waist of your panties and you lifted your hips as Tom hooked his thumbs and pulled them down and off.

You gasped as the cool air hit your skin and Tom placed himself between your legs; he glanced down to your core. “So wet for me.” he purred as he lowered his head. “So ready.”

You felt his breath on your inner thigh and you bit your lower lip. “Fuck, Tom.”

Tom lifted his head and smirked at you. “In due time, darling. In due time.”

You expected Tom to go straight to the main event, but he nipped up your inner thigh, stopping just before your core, letting his breath send shocks through your body. You bucked your hips, desperate for friction but Tom held your hips tight against the mattress.

“Patience, love.”

“Fuck patience, Tom, It’s been a month.”

Tom chuckled as he lowered his head and licked a long stripe across your slit.

“Yes!” you moaned as Tom worked up to your clit and alternated between sucking and flicking the bundle of nerves with his tongue.

“You enjoy that?” Tom muttered.

“God, yes!”

You gasped as Tom slipped one long digit into your pussy and began to pump in and out and slow pace. As his finger curled inside with each thrust, you felt your release inching closer.

“Shit, Tom. Yes!” you gasped, reduced to single syllable words.

“Come for me, darling.” Tom urged as he slid in a second finger. Within seconds, you pushed over the edge, clenching around Tom’s fingers, juices gushing.

Tom pulled his fingers out, dripping.

“Care to clean up?” Tom held his fingers in front of your face.

You smiled before taking them into your mouth. Your tongue ran over Tom’s knuckles and you licked up very last drop before he popped his fingers out.

“Obscene, darling.” Tom commented. “I loved it.”

You pulled him down into a deep kiss, Tom tasting you on your lips and you tasting yourself on his.

“I am not going to last long with your mouth like that.”

“Fortunately, we have all night.”

Tom smiled and without further warning plunging his cock inside you. You moaned from the fullness and gripped Tom’s hips to pull him deeper.

“God, I have missed you.” Tom grunted as he began to rut into you.

“I missed you too.” you panted in between thrusts.

Tom continued to thrust, chasing his own release. You snaked your hand between the two of us. You rubbed your clit in tight circles.

“Come on…” Tom pleaded, “Come with me.”

Tom’s thrusts became more and more urgent, his hips snapping each time. You pressed a little harder, seeking your own orgasm.

“Fuck!” Tom yelled as he came, spilling inside you.

“Yes!” you followed just moments later.

Tom collapsed onto of you for a few minutes, chest heaving and breath laboring. He rolled over to lie down beside you. He pushed the hair off your forehead and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“I think I am going to need a bit of rest before Round 2, love.”

“Well, we left food downstairs…”

“Perfection.”

“I’ll go get it.”

You sat up and walked over to his side of the bed to pick up your underwear. You pulled them on.

“Do you want chicken or beef?” you asked as you slipped a top on.

“Either is…” Tom answered as he opened his eyes to look at you. “Isn’t that my sweater?”

“I told you…” you said as you spun in the doorway. “This is my sweater and you will pry this sweater from my cold dead body. Buy a new one.”

You stared Tom down for a moment before he lept from the bed. You ran from the room as Tom tugged on his boxers, intent on taking back what was rightful his.

[a-dorin]

stranger

pairing: the mandalorian x medic!reader 

word count: 2.69k

warnings: cursing, canon typical violence, blood, wounds, burns, references to killing/violence, the taste of blood, sewing a wound up, yearning, pining, an idiot who wears only a beskar helmet and takes on more than he can handle 99.99% of the time

a/n: hi i wrote this in like no time at all so i hope you guys like it. (also at like 2:05 in the morning) also, this takes place during season one, and diverts a little bit  away from canon because he doesn’t have all of his new beskar armor yet (oops) also, sorry if the ending line is shitty i have a hard time with it sometimes 

“i thought this was the last time you were going to pull shit like this on me karga,” you dig your index finger into his chest, your jaw clenched, lips curled in a sneer, “you always say it’s going to be the last time shit like this happens and guess what? it doesn’t ever fucking end does it? i help you one time and--”

the leader hangs his head, raising a hand in defeat, “i am well aware of how you feel about me and the way i do my business. however, this is someone i can’t turn away. and you’re the only person i trust to fix him.”

exhaling, your eyes squeeze shut, “who is it?”

“someone who has been working with me for quite some time,” greef pauses, taking a moment to gauge your reaction, “he’s a skilled bounty hunter, one of the best, actually. typically, he fixes himself right up, but his injuries are far too severe to just ‘sew up’ and go about his business. trust me, i had to do some convincing to even bring him to you.”

through the entryway, a draft rolls in, causing you to shrink into your clothes, “it’s a little too chilly to talk out here. come in, we can discuss my payment, and then i’ll make my decision.”

greef takes a step forward, clearing his throat, “i’ll pay you, and so will he. i am well aware of how you feel about giving my men medical attention. but you do know that i will pay you well for this, right?”

you nod slightly, rubbing your temple with your fingers, “how much are we talking here, karga?” 

“i would like for you to assess his injuries first,” he counters, “then we can talk about payment.”

“fine,” you mutter, crossing over to your table, “please, just bring him in. if he bleeds out on my table, it’s your fault karga!” 

“hopefully there will be none of that,” karga shakes his head, the words so low that you could barely hear him, “i’ll bring him in. let me know when you’re finished.”

swiftly, you gather up your supplies, your hands gathering as much as you could. from the sound of it, things weren’t looking good. reaching out, you pull your cart towards you, practically tossing the supplies on the metallic surface. cursing under your breath, you search for your gloves, eyes frantically searching your surroundings, yet they’re nowhere to be found. 

guess you’d have to get a little messy with this one. 

a long-winded groan startles you from your task at hand, and your heart sinks the moment karga brings him in. he’s donned head to toe in battle armor, the hues of the metal a variety of colors. the only distinguishable piece is a beskar helmet, light reflecting off its surface. 

not once did karga mention that you would be tending to a mandalorian. 

“how bad is it?” you inquire, your voice crisp and cool as you stride over to karga, helping him carry the mandalorian to your table. 

blood seeps through his clothes, soaking the garments with a horrid scarlet. in several spots, there is singed fabric, signifying that he took a few good shots. the mandalorian reeks of burnt flesh and the stench of a battle, your nose wrinkling and bile rising in your throat. 

this was far worse than karga described, and this was no time to start panicking. 

“just a few blaster shots,” the mandalorian cuts in, his voice distorted from a modulator, “nothing that i couldn’t fix myself.”

“ah, ah, ah,” karga interjects, “there’s more to it than that. i believe he has several lacerations, perhaps a few burns from blasters.”

“that beskar couldn’t stop everything huh?” you arch a brow, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

the mandalorian doesn’t respond, anxiety bubbling up within you, “karga, try and keep him awake as long as you can. i have a few healing stems, along with some bacta shots, but depending on how deep the wounds are, i won’t be able to treat him unless we strip him of the armor.”

“i-i can’t take that off,” the mandalorian gurgles, “i-i, m-my cr-creed.”

“what creed?” you shoot karga a curious glance, guilt plastering his features. 

“he has a creed he follows,” karga inhales sharply, “it’s his way of life.”

your lips part, forming an o. you want to scold karga for not briefing you on all of the minor details, as he normally does with his men. however, there was no time for banter or bickering. 

you had to maintain your composure. 

“how much blood has he lost, you think?” 

“i can’t give you a definite answer on that,” karga takes a step back, allowing you to survey the mandalorian, “i would say a lot, but i’m not too sure. perhaps his garments stopped some of it, or the pressure of his armor.”

“that’s not enough pressure,” you murmur, plucking a pair of shears off your cart, “hey mando, can you hear me? are you still with us?” 

a feeble hand raises from the table, his voice breathy and far away, “i-i’m here. anything but the helmet, please.”

“of course,” your voice is soft and hushed, “the helmet is off limits.”

“now that i’ve got him in here,” karga gestures his head towards the nearly unconscious mandalorian, “he has something back at his ship that i need to tend to. will you need my assistance or can you handle it?” 

“i can handle it,” your voice falters, “go do what you need to do. it may be an hour or two before he’s feeling better.”

“you know how to find me if you need me,” karga’s words trail off as he exits your home, the doors sliding shut behind him. 

“all right mando,” you take his hand, squeezing it, “i’m going to start by removing your armor okay? let me know if you can’t feel anything. that’s when we have a problem.”

“i can feel everything,” he spits out, “fuck. it hurts. it all hurts.”

“you really took a beating huh?” carefully, you start by removing his boots, hastily yet with caution. 

who knew if he took a hit to the spine, paralyzing any point of his body. 

“hey,” you place his boots on the floor, “can you wriggle your toes for me mando?”

immediately, relief ripples through you as you watch his toes move, signaling that there was no nerve damage. next, you remove the plates of armor covering his shins and thighs, placing them directly by his boots. the armor was severely damaged, almost beyond repair, as it was littered with dents and holes. 

how many run-ins did this mandalorian have in his lifetime? how many of his days had he spent fighting? 

“do you have other clothing in your ship?” you press on, slicing the fabric with your shears, “karga mentioned you had a ship.”

“mmmhmmmm,” he hums, “name is the razor crest.”

“ahh,” soaking a rag with bacta spray, you wiped down his exposed legs, assessing his wounds as you did so, “that’s a wonderful name.”

the flesh was only burned, which could be healed almost instantly with the bacta spray. luckily, there wouldn’t be much scar tissue either, only a few minor scars here and there. yet, you wondered if there was an inch of the mandalorian’s body that wasn’t scarred. 

“d-don’t worry so much bout my legs,” he stammers, “it’s my shoulder that i’m worried about. i can feel the blood soaking through.”

“i’ll have to remove the rest of your armor and your tunic,” biting your lip, your hands wrap around his chest plate, desperate to find a way to get it off. 

“hey,” his voice sounds again, this time a lot clearer, “i can get it off. you don’t have to worry about being hasty about this. i’ll make sure you get your sum.”

“i-i just,” you stutter, the taste of blood hitting your tongue as he sits up, “karga sounded so worried and i want to do a good job because the way he talked, you were his best hunter and i just can’t--”

“you won’t fuck anything up,” a hand reaches out, finding yours, “this isn’t anything i haven’t encountered before. the thing is, you’re a trained medic. i’m not. i would probably make a mistake and make my injuries worse somehow. take. your. time.” 

for a moment, your eyes flutter closed, a weary sigh flowing from your lips. you can sense the mandalorian watching you carefully, studying your features through the tinted visor. 

“o-okay,” you whisper. 

the mandalorian sits up, shedding away the remaining pieces of his armor, “would you like for me to roll over?”

you nod, gnawing at your lower lip once more as you realize that this mandalorian, this stranger, was about to be nearly undressed, half-bleeding, half-conscious, on your table. and he was so patient with you. so much kinder than previous patients in the past. 

“wait,” your brow furrows, “your helmet would make it awkward for you to lay on your stomach. how about you move over a little, to the edge of the table?”

“of course.”

he straightens his back, scooting over to give you some space. clambering onto the table, you reach up to adjust your light. taking your rag, you wipe down his back and shoulders, muscles rippling under your touch. every so often, your fingertips graze his heated skin as you lose yourself in your work. 

you catch a quiet groan as you continue to work, your heart fluttering. 

the sound wasn’t drenched with pain, nor anywhere near the noise you first encountered when he was being brought in by karga. 

this was a sound of contentment, a sound of bliss. 

“how long has it been since you’ve felt someone’s touch?”

shame burns through you the moment the question tumbles from your lips, nearly consuming you whole as he tenses. maker, did you feel so guilty. he was a stranger to you. how could you just blatantly ask that? 

the answer arrives, short and sweet. 

“too long.”

leaning over, you press a piece of cloth on his shoulder, a lengthy laceration stretching from his clavicle to his left shoulder blade, “oh, i see.”

“do you usually get this close and personal with your patients?”

“depends,” you shrug, “hey, i’m about to sew you up. it may sting.”

plunging the needle in, you press yourself to his back as you start the suture, your breath fanning against his neck. the mandalorian stiffens as he catches a whiff of your scent, and how it was so heavenly as it wafted into his nostrils. 

his jaw clenches as he chokes back a hiss of pain, remaining as still as possible. 

“you’re being so good for me,” your voice floods his ear, the praise nearly causing him to crumble completely. 

within seconds, you’re all finished, sliding off the table, “i take it that karga is coming back with a change of clothes?”

“i hope so.”

gazing over at your table, you notice the healing stems, “i have some healing stems for your travels. they’ll probably help with that dull pain you’ll have in that area for a while. it won’t be an issue unless you somehow reopen that wound. if it was any closer to any major artery in your neck, you would’ve bled out.”

“i’ll take them.”

“well,” you hand them to him, “take them before you forget them. you seem like the forgetful type.”

a low chuckle erupts from the beskar, “i don’t think i could forget a night like--”

a knock on the doors interrupts the mandalorian’s sentence, cutting it short. as you make your way over, you hear a string of curses flowing from the table. more than likely his native tongue. pressing a button, the doors slide open, revealing greef karga and a strange, little creature, swathed by a bundle of clothing in his arms. 

“you were fast,” karga remarks, cradling the creature, “how is he?”

“he’s fine,” your focus is directed away from karga, honing in on the creature, “who is this?”

“this is what i had to retrieve from his ship. he’s a very precious child. extremely important to that mandalorian over there.”

the child coos, its eyes two vast pools of obsidian. he blinks, a tiny hand flailing out. you melt, lips curling into a broad smile, “hello, little one. are you looking for your father?”

“he is,” the mandalorian echoes from across the space. 

karga enters, keeping the child against his chest as he strides over, placing the bundle next to the mandalorian. from a distance, you watch fondly as the child teeters towards the bounty hunter, an incoherent blubber sounding as his guardian pats his head, reassuring him that they would no longer be separated. 

within minutes, the mandalorian was springing to his feet, with a fresh set of a clothes, the same armor strapped to his frame. the child is in his embrace now, clinging onto his thumb. karga hovers by his side, more than likely filling him in on the next mission. the next victim to hunt. 

“how should i pay you?” his voice, one you had grown familiar over the course of the hour, fills your ears. 

“oh,” you blink, “um, don’t worry about it. you have far more important things to--”

“no,” his tone is firm, “you deserve some sort of payment.”

“she lives here after all,” karga remarks, folding his arms across his chest, “i could pay her any time.”

“how about you head out so that we can discuss this a little more privately?” he turns to karga, the query almost more of a command than a question. 

“of course,” karga dips his head, shifting towards you, “i’ll see you around. hopefully this is the last time i spring a patient on you.”

“i’m sure it won’t be the last,” you roll your eyes playfully, “see you around, karga.”

“tell me, how much do i owe you? name anything in the galaxy and it’s yours.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you snort, “you don’t owe me anything. you could’ve died and you’re worried about paying me.”

“because you deserve it,” he takes a step forward, the space between the two of you dissipating, “from the sound of it, you let this happen quite frequently. you don’t get paid enough for it either.”

“how about you pay me a visit the next time you make a pitstop in nevarro,” your eyes fall to the floor, careful to not meet his gaze, “would that be enough?”

a gloved hand grasps your chin, tilting your head up. 

“oh cyar’ika, that would be more than enough.”

the child giggles, bouncing, “maybe you should get a move on. he seems hungry. there’s a cantina not too far away from here. they serve good food, even if the locals get a bit rowdy. i bet it’s nothing you run into, though.”

“it’s probably best if i leave nevarro.”

“be safe out there mando,” you whisper.

“i will.”

just like that, he’s out the door, leaving your knees weak, heart all aflutter. 

as the mandalorian made his way to the razor crest, child in tow, his mind was reeling, all of his thoughts honing in one particular thing. 

a medic on nevarro, who mentioned briefly that he seemed to the forgetful type. yeah, he traveled near and far, to all rims and edges of the galaxy, but he was one to forget people, nor faces. he encountered so many species: human, twi’leks, wookiees, chiss, you name it.

the moment he stepped foot on the razor crest, he yearned. the desire burning through him, aching and desperate. 

stars, how he longed to go back. just for one more glimpse. one more glimpse of that stranger’s face, that beautiful face. 

he was determined though, determined to find his way back. perhaps in a few days, even. the mandalorian was relentless, especially when it came to getting what he craved. and oh, how he craved to know the name of the stranger on nevarro. 

someone who would no longer be a stranger to the mandalorian. 

he just knew it.