#so you did. and oh. it was so much worse to think you could have it. that you had it together. and then finding he knew it was never a

[tryan-a-bex]

I didn’t want to go. There had to be another way, and I was spending all my free time in the library trying to find it, but then they ran out of hero-types and figured, since I’d been working on the problem, they should send me.

They put a gun in my hand, taught me the basics about how to aim and fire (they didn’t think I’d need to deal with reloading), and sent me out. Honestly, I was quaking in my boots. How much was it going to hurt to be destroyed with extreme prejudice by a reality-bending god? I wasn’t brave, I just wanted to go home to a peaceful city instead of one that was being controlled by men fear-mongering about a vengeful god. I don’t really have any pain tolerance to speak of, that’s why I went into scribing instead of child-bearing, those mothers are way more badass than anyone gives them credit for.

Anyway, I found the god, it wasn’t hiding. It didn’t attack me, but I had a job and I wasn’t allowed to come home without doing it, so I reached around a tree, tried to stop my hand from shaking too badly, fired off a shot, and then closed my eyes and waited for the worst.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just shot me! Oh my god, it hurts! It hurts so much!”

What the actual hell? I peeked out from behind my tree. The god was sitting there crying, holding into its arm and trying to wipe tears away at the same time. Poor thing.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, coming out from behind the tree. “There’s no blood coming out from under your hand, so it must just be a scratch.”

“Do you think so? Could you take a look at it for me?” I swear, the god sounded like my friend Matt who’s as much of a wuss as I am. I went up to it and held out my hand.

It put its hand trustingly in mind and I took a look at the tear in its sleeve just above the elbow. Just a scratch, not even a bead of blood. I’ve had worse papercuts. Good thing I have such bad aim.

“It stings, doesn’t it?” I said sympathetically. The god nodded and covered it again with its other hand.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine again soon. And I promise not to hurt you anymore.”

“Really?” The poor thing sounded so plaintive.

“Were all those heroes really scary for you?” I asked.

“Oh, no, not really,” the god admitted, eyes downcast.

“But?” How could I be scary, and not those powerful heroes who were instantly destroyed? Wait, why was I still alive? “Why haven’t you destroyed me?”

The god looked up at me with pleading eyes. “I reflect those near me. I used to have devoted priests who I cared for, and they kept me kind. Then the vizier sent men to kill them all, but when I’m surrounded by evil men intent on killing, well. Let’s just say they didn’t last long. Nor did the heroes, with their thoughts of destruction. You were afraid of pain, and then filled with compassion, so I am too. I like myself much better this way. Thank you.”

I sat down. “Let’s talk.”

You've been sent out to defeat a powerful, reality bending god. All have died horrifically trying. And here you are in front of the crying god as they complain about how you just shot them.

[buttercandy16]

In-laws

PAIRING: Dark!Agatha Harkness x Reader, Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal

SUMMARY: In-laws are the worst and you found out the hard way.

WARNING(s): Dark themes, Non-con, and a whole lot of SMUT!

A/N: Dark themes ahead. If you find these things disturbing I strongly advice that you skip this post. Thank you!

Y/N POV 

The night's cold breeze is crisp on my face as I stand outside the balcony thinking about how perfect my wedding tomorrow will be. 

Nicky and I have been together since my parents started working for his parents. At first, I was reluctant to engage in a romantic relationship with him since in the eyes of society we were unfit for each other, but he was persistent and in the end, I let love win. I was even more thankful that his parents accepted me and my family with open arms despite our lowly status in life. 

After years of being together, we are finally making it official tomorrow as husband and wife. 

I just finished celebrating my bachelorette party earlier which was neatly organized by one of my soon-to-be mother-in-law, Agatha. While Nicky is having his bachelor's party with his set of friends. 

Everything will be perfect, for sure nothing will go wrong. 

"Excited?" I was pulled out from my thoughts when Agatha appeared by my side with a bottle of wine in hand. 

For the record, I'm currently staying at Nicky's house. Both of his mothers insisted that I stay here before the wedding and I agreed.

"Yeah, I'm so excited to get married to Nicky!" I exclaimed excitedly. 

Agatha gave me a chuckle before waving the wine bottle in front of my face. 

"Good, then we better celebrate with this." 

"Ummm... I don't want to be rude, but I'll have to decline. I don't drink alcohol, remember?"

Agatha rolled her eyes at me before she leaned in closer to my ear. 

"Oh come on, sweetheart. That was different, this one we get to enjoy all to ourselves, and I think it's about time you try right? And it's not like we're gonna get wasted, you'll be fine tomorrow. I swear." 

I suppose... 

"O--okay then, but I'll only drink one glass.”

"One glass is enough" Agatha smiled at me mischievously before slightly pushing me inside the room. 

I was a bit nervous about how she was acting, she seemed pushy. But I was fast to dismiss that thought as she filled our glasses with wine. 

She gave me mine before sitting next to me on the sofa, only an arm's length away from each other. 

"Go on" she urged playfully... 

I swirled the wine in my glass slightly before carefully putting it to my lips and tentatively sipping the liquid. I found it delicious and very cooling.

“This is delicious!" 

"Yes, simple but very soothing. Finest wine you can ever have. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect." 

I eagerly did as I was told, and Agatha seemed satisfied with this. Soon I was holding an empty glass. I had drained it and hadn't even noticed. The drink was that smooth. The only problem is that I found that I was still thirsty. 

"Could I have another, please?" I asked, her eyes glinted with something dark from my request. 

"I think that can be arranged." 

Agatha was careful to replenish my glass whenever it emptied as we talked and talked into the night. 

It was quite odd, no matter how much I drink I still feel thirsty. 

I wondered if it was starting to affect me. I noticed that the room was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body becoming uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flush. My heart was beating very fast and I was practically panting, my breath had gotten so fast. I was starting to sweat inside my clothes, too. My clothes were becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. It was supposed to be a chilly evening. But now, I desire nothing more than to get out of my clothes, then I would feel so much better. 

"Have you and Nicholas done it yet?" Her question almost made me choke on my drink, her eyes never leaving mine. 

Am I hearing this right? Does she mean th--- 

She slowly traced the rim of her wineglass while looking at me curiously, "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Did you have sex yet?" 

Her question slightly took me aback but answered, nonetheless. 

"N--no, we haven't. I'm still pure" 

The moment I said pure, a shadow seems to pass on her features as the corner of her lips slightly lifted sinisterly, barely noticeable in the dark. 

But I saw it... 

She snickered under her breath as she slightly swirled the wine in her glass. 

That's when I realized that she's never touched it. Not even a single drop. 

She followed my gaze to her wine glass before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly. 

She knows that I've noticed. 

I was starting to feel uncomfortable from this so I decided that it was time to retire for the night. But when I stood up, I was immediately met by sudden dizziness making me sit back on the couch ungracefully. 

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave this room. I swayed for just a moment before Agatha caught me. There was nothing I could do now, and as I slowly slumped sideways, she gently tugged on my shoulder, causing me to lie flat, with my head on her lap. Now all I could see was my fiance's mother smiling down at me… and the world went black. 

_=_=_ 

How long I was out, I’m not sure. I opened my eyes, and it took them a moment to adjust to the light.

Something was wrong. 

My arms could not move, despite my best efforts, and the air felt rather cold on my skin. And when my eyes adjusted, I immediately saw why. My wrists had been secured firmly in two straps, on either side of my head. And the cool air on my skin was because I'm completely naked! 

I tried to scream my lungs out, to shout for help, to do anything that might get me out of this situation. But the only thing that came out was a muffled sound. That has something to do with the gag placed over my mouth. But it did draw some attention to me because a figure suddenly appeared over my vulnerable form, and when it spoke, I heard the unmistakable voice of my fiance's mother. 

"So, you're finally awake" 

"I think before you try going off on one, I should probably introduce you to a bit of "context," I think you'd call it." She reached for the table next to her and picked up a remote. She turned on the TV that was positioned just above the bed I was strapped to. "Let's just say you might want to forget about struggling when I show you this video." 

My confusion made me forget my anger, for a moment. But as the film started, and what I was watching became clear to me, my anger was replaced by shock and horror. 

It was a video of me and my co-worker Tony, sitting in my office, and him kissing me. It had been a professional meet-up, he was showing me some files that we needed to sort out before the big presentation when out of the blue he just kissed me. I froze out of shock while his lips continued to press against mine but when I finally snapped out of it I immediately pushed him off me and gave him an ear-deafening slap on the face. But that wasn't shown in the film. It was just the kiss, making it look like I did it deliberately. I remembered him looking at me in pity like he was sorry for what he did. I didn't tell anyone about it, not even Nicky. And now my soon-to-be mother-in-law possesses proof of it.

But how? Why was there a video? Based on the angle I know it was filmed from a hidden camera. Was it done intentionally? For what reason?! Was she behind it? 

If someone got hold of it, I wouldn't just get fired from fraternizing with a colleague. I would probably lose Nicky as well. 

And that scared me shitless... 

Agatha pressed another button, and the video switched off. She looked at my face, now starting to become tear-stained and the fear now plain for everyone to see. She smiled. 

"I think that expression is a good one for you," she remarked. "It makes you look so sweet and innocent." 

She leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn't. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava. 

"Now that no one is going to disturb us, how about we get some fun done?" 

Agatha then began to touch me, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "Aww… such a nice body, pet! I can't help myself but touch myself thinking about you every day. And now, I can't help myself anymore." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg. 

"What should I do first with your body?" She ran her finger on my smooth skin, before taking the gag off my mouth. 

I gritted my teeth from both anger and sadness. "Why are you doing this?" 

"Didn't I already tell you? I want your body to be mine! We are going to have so much fun, pet. And if you disobey me, I think you already know what will happen right? Not to mention, I can get  both of your parents fired, tsk... that would be unfortunate" 

A single tear ran on my cheek and Agatha kissed it, licking the drop. I know that I have no other choice but to let things happen. I have so much to lose if she doesn't get what she wants. 

She moved around and brought our lips together in a violent kiss, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth. She bit my bottom lip hard enough to earn a gasp, allowing her to move her tongue past the barrier. 

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch it could. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events made me horny. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her shirt, skirt, and underwear away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Eat up!" She said in a commanding voice, but I hesitated. The woman gritted her teeth in anger and grabbed my hair. "I ordered you to eat up!" She forced my mouth to get in contact with her entrance. 

Out of reflex, I attempted to close my mouth, but then felt a pair of forces crushing my head from both sides as her legs pressed me. The pain was enough to make me gasp. She took the opportunity to tighten her grip on my hair and pressed me harder. 

"That's more like it!" She started to move her body up and down, making my juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours to work baby" She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I can't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Agatha’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet.

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good. The pleasure coursing through my veins like a blast of adrenaline... 

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my second orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down on me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Agatha kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me to reach something on the nightstand. When I saw what it was, my eyes grew wide as saucers... 

Oh no... please no more 

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled with my bonds as I tried to pull myself away from her. 

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give mommy one more baby. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. The buzzing vibrator held against my clit sped up a notch, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Agatha cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, our foreheads practically touching on the pillow. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, pet,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking cute, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Agatha’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the third time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out. 

_=_=_ 

A groan left my lips when I woke up in the middle of the night with a sore body. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was no longer chained to the bed and I was all alone in the room. 

Seeing this as an opportunity to get the hell outta here I immediately grabbed my clothes that were placed on the vanity chair before frantically dressing. 

No longer caring if I was dressed right I immediately ran towards the door but stopped when it suddenly opened, revealing my fiance’s other mother, Rio Vidal dressed in her expensive suit. 

"Ri-rio..." 

"Sweethear, what are you doing here?" Rio asked as she curiously surveyed my disheveled form. 

"Rio, you have to help me, please" I pleaded as I went closer to her. 

"Why? What's wrong?" She asked as she gently held my arm. 

"It's A–agatha, she---" 

"Hello, my love! You're home early," My words were cut off as Agatha appeared from the bathroom only covered by a plush purple robe. "It seems you caught our little bunny trying to hop away." She smiled devilishly... 

Wha-what? 

"Which is quite fortunate, I wouldn't want to miss out" Rio chuckled darkly. "But I'm very disappointed that you started without me, my love." 

"Well, you were late. It's been so long since I wanted a taste of her. I lost all self-control the moment I had her in my grasp. But don't worry, I saved the best for you." 

My eyes widened in realization and I felt my whole body shiver in fear as I heard the door's lock click. Locking me inside with two predators hungry for my young flesh... 

Nonononono... this isn't happening... 

Tears started to fall from my eyes as Agatha walked over to me, and Rio’s hand settled over my shoulders in a tight and almost painful hold. 

Agatha looked down on me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"Do you know the real reason why we let our son be with someone as lowly as you? It's because the moment we saw you, we knew that we needed to have you. Our perfect little toy." My heart ached from her words. So after all this time, I was nothing but a fool. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you will get married to my son tomorrow and officially become part of our family. You will be a good wife to him and grant him the children he desires. But behind closed doors, you will become our pretty little pet and cater to our needs. Do you understand?" I nodded weakly.

"But the most important thing is... Nicky must never know about this little arrangement of ours. This secret will stay with you until you reach your grave, or else... I'm pretty sure you are aware of the power that we hold Y/N, if you go against us, we will destroy you and your loved ones. Do I make myself clear?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

Agatha's eyes moved from behind me as Rio pressed her lips to my ear as she whispered... 

"If you behave like a good little girl for us, we will reward you with anything you desire, aside from your freedom of course." 

"Since that's all settled then, I think it's time for the main event" 

"Wh-what would that be?" I fearfully asked. 

Agatha smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"We're going to take your virginity baby"

_=_=_

Please don't forget to like, repost, and leave a comment below. I love hearing other peoples thoughts about this. Also, if you have any good ideas for a Dark fanfic featuring mother agatha please do send it. Thanks! 💜

[jordanswitches]

i know, new audio so soon after the last one. @nyxtickled just had such a wonderful prompt for me, i couldn't resist. this one is a lot more dommy and nsft than the last one. kind of a brat taming vibe, though i definitely make it obvious i'm inexperienced in that area hahahah. i hope you guys love it, as always would loooove feedback (i.e. praise lol) in my asks. tell me how it made you feel <3

transcript under read more

i'll ask you one more time before i start. are you sorry? for what? for being so incredibly rude to me and calling me a fucker. you did, i don't know why you're even trying to deny it. you're so funny. you are literally smiling right now. you can't just say no, i'm looking at your face and you are smiling. shall we make it more obvious then?

this position is so perfect, i love sitting on your thigh. and it means i can feel how much you like it too. you have a wet spot. shall i press my knee into you? give you a little bit of pressure? maybe after i get your sides. aww look at you squirm. oh i guess it didn't matter if you're gonna move so much you grind down on me anyway. you are so naughty. i think you'll find i can pull away if i want to actually. looked like you were enjoying it too much. i want you to suffer for me. do you think you can do that? good, my little tickle slut.

as fun as that was, i wanna break you. i will. if you're so confident then you won't mind if tickle your feet? what? is it because i said tickle? i forgot you're like that. i thought you were such a strong brat? are you telling me all i have to do to make you flustered is tell you you're ticklish? aw, how embarrassing. are you embarrassed? you're blushing. you are. i can take a picture if you want. i should do that some time, take photos of all your best spots and post them and ask what people would do to them. do you like that idea? of course you do.

you've had such a nice rest, i think i need actually torture you now. what about if hold back your toes and i drag one nail up. and down. (laughing) cute. shall i add another nail? say please. okay, you only get one. i'm happy here. one nail trailing over your sole and to the ball and under your toes. lemme get between them. i know that pinky toe drives you wild. wouldn't it be so much worse if one finger was all it took to break you? i don't think your ego could take it. oh now you want more fingers. is that just too embarrassing? beg me then. say, "please, please tickle me, and make it bad". if you don't want to i'll just untie you. if you don't wanna be tickled that's fine. or you could just say it. are you going to?

you are so perfect. c'mere. if you keep scrunching your feet i'm gonna tickle the tops. what if i do the top and the bottom at the same time. ohhh no, your body is so confused, it doesn't know what to do. protect the bottom, protect the top, can't do both. lemme pull your toes back again. let me. good, see how sweet you can be? and now i can spider all up your soles. oh is it so bad? does it tickle? i know baby. you feel like apologising now? still no? what about this. if you apologise, i promise i'll tickle you until you think you'll pass out. does that sound good? yeah, you'd love that. so say sorry. oh what a good tickle slut. you have just given yourself such a gift. now spread your toes.

[hyperbali]

I want you to know that ive been avoiding datv spoilers by scrolling really fast past posts on my phone. I had NO idea what morrigan looked like. I got fuckin jumpscared by her outfit and look from one of your posts. Guess I didnt scroll fast enough but I did audibly say 'oh nooooo' outloud. Good lordt. What did they do to her

LMFAO i'm so sorry to have done that to you

yeah, i don't know... what the fuck is going on with that midriff... bra.... mess. i didn't think they could outdo the orlesian ballgown in hideousness but by god they managed it

i think what's worse is i can see the potential of a nice fit here, there's some details i think work well, but altogether it's a nasty hodgepodge

and yes i do plan on redesigning it tyvm

i am desperately curious if matt rhodes ever did concepts for her veilguard look, i would like to know how much i need to curse them for throwing out most of his design direction once again

[skeletboi]

Part 7 of the Intridimensional AU!

New to this crapshow? Start here!

______________________________________________

“Ya sure that's the right address?” The cab driver asked as Ford clicked his seatbelt into place.

“Yes. I am positive.” Ford responded.

“What's a scholarly-lookin’ fella like you want to do in a place like that?”

“You think I look scholarly?” Ford said, smiling.

“I think ya missed the point. That place is real seedy. I sure as hell ain't waitin’ ‘round there for you. I'll drop you and leave.”

“That's fine. I won't be there long, and the person I am going to meet assured me he has a vehicle.

“Your funeral, I guess.” The cab driver said with a shrug.

Ford frowned, but decided not to worry too much over it. He may not look intimidating, but he was sure he could handle his own in a fight. Albeit he hoped there would be no need for fighting. He just had to get Stan out of there, and maybe to a hospital. Worse case scenario he could just call mom and let her deal with Stanley's issues. Dad wouldn't be happy, but surely he would change his mind and let Stan stay over letting him die. Stan and his father had parted on bad terms, but so had Stan and Ford. Ford was here now, so it made sense that his father would come around, too, right?

“Here we are. Hope you brought a gun.” The cab driver said, tearing him from his thoughts.

“Oh- uh, thanks.” Ford said, paying the cab driver and stepping out into a dingy motel parking lot.

“Good luck!” The driver said with a laugh as Ford shut the door behind him.

Ford frowned and watched the cab peel away before turning his attention back on the motel. Stanley's car was parked a bit further down the lot, so Ford decided he could start there.

He didn't make it very far before realizing the door to the second room was slightly open, light spilling onto the sidewalk in front of it. He took a few cautious steps forward and noticed the dark spots on the sidewalk leading to that door. He swallowed hard and tried to glance into the room without seeming too suspicious, his heartbeat loud in the silence of the parking lot.

He took another step closer and froze when he spotted a familiar-looking vacuum cleaner against a wall in the room. He had seen it before on one of those terrible infomercials, and the realization made his stomach drop.

“Stanley?” he asked quietly as he slowly pushed open the door.

He heard a quiet grunt from the floor next to him and nearly fell backwards when he saw the state of his brother.

“Stanley?!” he said again, panic evident in his tone.

Stan blinked a few times and looked up at him.

“Is this heaven or hell? Probably hell, right?” Stan asked groggily.

“Stanley! What the hell happened to you?!” Ford said, falling to his knees next to Stan as he fought back the bile rising in his throat.

“Is this some kinda trick? Good try, Satan, but my brother definitely wouldn't care about this. Should have started with my Ma. That would have gotten me.” Stan responded with a humorless laugh.

“Stan! You're not dead! It's actually me! Also, we're Jewish!”

Stan frowned and blinked a few more times.

“That was better. Still should have started with Ma, though.”

“Stan! Your leg! It's-” Ford stopped and put a hand to his mouth, willing himself to not vomit directly on his brother.

“Oh yeah. That still hurts- what's up with that? Can't I at least have a leg in the afterlife?!”

“Fuck. I'm bringing you to a hospital! Where are your keys?!” Ford said, standing shakily and looking around the near-empty room.

“Keys? I- Wait, am I really still alive? Ford! What are you doing here! It's dangerous!” Stan said, finally catching on.

“No shit, Stan! You- you’re missing a leg! It's going to get infected!” Ford said, tearing through the drawers by the bed and finally finding the keys to the Stanley Mobile.

“Ford! Calm down! I can't go to a hospital! He'll find me there, and I can't guarantee he won't cause collateral damage. It's better if I just stay here.”

“He? Who is he?! The one who did this to you?! He'll find you here, too!”

“I know! That was the plan! The problem is that now he'll find you, too, so you better leave before he comes back or we'll both be fucked!”

“Then we are both leaving! We'll go to a hospital out of town! Then I'm bringing you back home!” Ford yelled, grabbing Stan's wallet from the ground at his feet and glancing around to see if there was anything else he might need to grab.

“Home?! What the hell does that mean?!” Stan said, attempting to push himself up from the wall and failing.

“Home. To New Jersey. I'll get you a plane ticket- but you can't stay here!” Ford said, pocketing Stan's wallet and holding out his hands to help Stan up.

“I can't go back there!” Stan said, nonplussed.

“Sure you can, dad might be mad about it- but it's better than death!”

“No! I literally cannot go back there! I’m banned from New Jersey! They'd throw me back in prison the second I crossed the border!”

“Prison is better than death!”

“Not when the gang member after you has connections in prisons across the country! It's death either way!”

“Is that why you never went back home?!”

“That and dad wouldn't let me come back!”

“He would have if he knew what happened!”

“No he wouldn't! He had that bag packed and ready to kick me out the second he had an excuse! I don't know what dad you're thinkin’ about, but the one I knew hated me!”

Ford paused and dropped his hands to his side.

“He… he did, didn't he?”

“Yes! You never noticed that?! What the fuck did you think he threw at me?! He-” Stan sighed and glanced away. “Fuck. It doesn't matter, Sixer. What matters is that you need to leave. Take my car if you want- I sure as hell won't be needing it.”

Ford knelt down to be at Stan's eye level and sighed.

“It does matter, Stanley. I'm still mad at you, but I won't leave you here to die. You haven't been kicked out of Oregon, have you?”

Stan furrowed his brow as he turned to look back at Ford.

“Oregon? No. Never made it that far, I guess.”

“Well, that's where I live. So you're coming with me.”

Stan frowned, trying his best to damp down the glimmer of hope in his chest.

“He'll still come looking for me. He probably has eyes on me right now, making sure I don't make a run for it.”

“Whoever ‘he’ is, he won't find you. I live in a very remote town. It's not even on any maps.” Ford said, standing up and reaching out a hand to Stan.

Stan continued to frown, but took Ford's hand anyway.

“Fine.” He said, struggling to stand and wincing at the pain in his leg. “But no hospitals until I'm sure he isn't following.”

“Fine. Do you need anything else from here, or can we just leave?” Ford asked, letting Stan lean on him as he glanced back around the room.

“Fuck it. You grabbed my wallet and my gun is in the car. That's all I need.” Stan responded, his voice thick with pain. “Might need to grab whiskey for the road, but we can deal with that once we get to Arizona.”

“You have a gun in the car?!” Ford asked.

“Funny how you focus on that. You live in some no-mans land in the woods! Are you really going to tell me you don't have a gun?!”

“I have a crossbow.” Ford mumbled.

“You fucking would, nerd.” Stan mumbled back, then laughed.

“It's a perfectly good weapon. I have no need for a gun.” Ford huffed as they started towards the door.

“Sure, sure, for shooting deer, maybe. You're going to need a better weapon than that if you have a bunch of gangsters after you. I'll have to get you a gun.” Stan replied as they made it to the car.

“I'm perfectly capable. I have grenades, too!” Ford said as he helped lower Stan into the passenger seat.

“Perfect. Nerd weapons!” Stan mumbled.

Ford shut the passenger side door in his face and made his way to the driver's seat.

“You could clean your car, you know.” Ford said, grimacing as he adjusted the mirror.

“Yeah, yeah. I had shit to do! I lived in this thing for a while so I never really bothered.” Stan replied defensively.

“Disgusting.” Ford replied as he backed out of the parking spot.

“I'm sure your car is so much better.” Stan mumbled.

“I don't have a car. A tree giant named Steve crushed it.”

Stan looked over at Ford and laughed.

“What?!” Ford asked over Stan's raucous laughter. “He really did! I can even show you the wreckage in the woods!”

“I believe you, Sixer. I'm just laughin’ because you would get your car fucked up by a giant. It's very you of you.” Stan replied between laughs.

“You believe me?” Ford asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Of course I do. You're a lot of things, Sixer, but a liar isn't one of them. That's my job.”

Ford glanced over at Stan and huffed out a laugh. He was definitely still mad, but maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he had imagined.

____________________________________________

I swear we will get to the portal part eventually...

I had too much fun thinking about the backstory- so for now you get this! Sorry not sorry.

Previous Part /// Next Part

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.1

*Bonus*

Stucky x fem!reader \ Steve Roger x fem!reader x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Smut, fluff

Polyamorous Material List

(Y/n) didn't bother knocking on the door, going straight for the hidden key and unlocking it. Already familiar with the apartment, she tosses her jacket on the back of the armchair and going into the kitchen. " I'm so sorry I'm-oh" (Y/n) quickly turned around and covered her eyes. " I'm sorry, so sorry".

"Okay," Bucky said as he helped Steve off the kitchen counter and they adjusted themselves, fix themselves. But still with flush faces, swollen lips, and ruffled clothes it was very clear what was happening. That and Steve didn't adjust himself as well as Bucky.

"I'm sorry I'm late my father kept me at the store."

" It's alright, dinner is still warm." Bucky said as he pulled out a chair for her. Steve took his seat quickly trying his best to hide his 'situation'. " Beef Stew and biscuits."

"Bread is fresh I got it from the bakery this morning." Steve said doing his best not to make eye contact. Bucky went to dish out the bowls.

(Y/n) reached across the small table taking his hand in hers. He looked up at her. "Thank you, it smells wonderful. Thank you for all of this." Steve flushed not knowing how to take the praise.

"How you're mom doing?"

"She's well, doing much better . They've recently assigned her to the tuberculosis ward. The pay is higher but the hours are longer too." The new risk was unsaid.

Steve's mother, Ms. Sarah, was a nurse and had been jumping between wards for as long as one could remember. She always went where help was most needed. While everyone thought her very admirable it was also very scary. They feard that one day she'd pick something up from one of her patients and not be able to shake it or worse give it to Steve who had a very weak health.

"She'll be working late tonight. I've already set aside some dinner for her," Bucky said as he placed the bowls on the table and returned to the kitchen.

" My father thinks I'm having a sleep over with Rebecca. Hope your sister doesn't mind being my excuse, Bucky."

"She loves you and will tell any lie you need." he said as he placed three wine glasses on the table. The two looked at him confused as he produced a bottle of wine "Pinot Noir, franch "

"where did you get that? you can't afford that."

"Well forunately for us darling this fell off the back of a truck"

"You stole" Steve moved to scold him.

"No, it literally fell off the back of a truck. I wasn't going to waste it." Bucky defened himself as he popped the cork" Don't we deserve some luxury. Something fancy for once." he pours a glass " Plus, when will any of us ever be able to afford a bottle of wine like this. We can barely afford the cheap stuff. Please, enjoy it now."

He passed the glass to Steve. He sighed and took it while glaring he brings the glass to his lips and has a sip. " Taste expensive."

(Y/n) giggled, Bucky fills her glass. He finally sits and all three of them raise their glasses. " A toast?"

"yes, A toast to us and to now. To always being together." Steve said

"We three may never part" (Y/n) said

" Damn right" Bucky cheered.

-

After dinner, the three moved themselves to the front room. Bucky and (Y/n) found themselves lost in their book, him on the floor and she on the couch, with Steve sketching them while a radio played softly in the background. He is on the couch with (Y/n).

(Y/n) was so engrossed in her book that she fell to notice when Steve abandoned his sketch and moved to read over her shoulder. Bucky watched in amusement for a few minutes as the two cuddled up to each other without even realizing it.

They curled up to each other, becoming closer and closer with each turn of a page. He also noticed how flushed each of them were becoming. Interesting.

"Whatcha reading?" She snapped the book shut, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh at how stunned they both looked. They looked like a pair of kids who got caught doing something they definitely shouldn't have been doing. "Okay, now you have to show me." He stood up and approached them, holding his hand out for the book. (Y/n) held the book close to her chest.

"It's just a book."

"An interesting book."

"What makes you think that?"

"How you cling to the cover, your flushed face, Steve's bulge." Steve quickly moves to cover his 'situation.'Bucky grinned as (Y/n) sighed and passed him the book. She moved to hide her face in a pillow as Bucky flipped through the book. " Let's see what's got you two so red."

"Bucky," Steve pleaded

" 'I should …really...get back to work.' Levi said in between her kisses but made no attempt to stop her or move her off of his lap. OH . Untying his tie she tosses it on the other end of the couch and began to unbutton his shirt as her lips moved to his neck hoping to mark her territory."

"Okay, that's enough." (Y/n) stood up and tried to take the book from him, but he held it above her head.

" he groaned as she choked on his - " the book was ripped from his hand and tossed across the room before he could even read ahead. He was shocked as he looked at her "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, I just -sorry."

"It's okay, I was just teasing. I'm sorry."

"I overreacted."

"You think." That earned Steve a pillow to the face. Bucky sat on the couch beside her. "where did you get that book anyway?" He asked

"Discount basket."

It took a moment, but the three of them began to laugh. They laugh hysterically for several minutes. Only stopping when they were finally out of breath.

"Getting dirty at a discount"

"Shush, Buck"

"Why'd you throw it?" he asked

"Wasn't a good read," she said, shrugging.

"Really, you seemed quite interested in it. Both of you."

" Mom won't be back until tomorrow morning," Steve suddenly said, gaining the attention of the two—one in confusion, the other in shock and joy. " we have the place to ourselves."

He took note of her confusion, and he began to stutter, " We-we could do it. Since we're al-lone."

Still confused.

"Sex. Steve is saying he's ready for sex."

"Oh," her voice reached a new pitch.

"We don't have to. Not really we-"

"Okay, I think I'm ready too."

They both turned to Bucky.

-

After talking some more in the front room, the three moved into the bedroom. Bucky took Steve into the bathroom to help him get ready, leaving (y/n) alone. (Y/n) had removed her dress and stockings and was now having an internal debate about whether she should take off her slip as well leaving her in her underwear.

She quickly lost her decision as the door opened, and the two stepped in, Bucky in his pants and tank top and Steve with a towel around his waist.

"Hi," she said

"hi," Steve returned.

Bucky sat at the desk, and Steve and (y/n) stood in front of him, waiting for instructions. Inexperienced students waiting for their experienced teacher.

" I want you two to be comfortable and enjoy this. You should experience each other first."

"You just want to watch us," Steve scoffed, crossing his arms

"Yeah, you're a perv." (Y/n) agreed.

"Sure am. Now put on a show for this perv."

And confidence is gone. The two just stood there for a moment, fidgeting. It was Steve who got the courage to make the first move, asking to kiss. Bucky watched as the two kissed, starting off as gentle and sweet before progressing into a more heated kiss. He took note of their hands (Y/n)'s hands, pulled at her slip, and hovered over Steve's chest. His hand gripped his towel. Both seemed eager yet afraid to touch.

"You can use your hands." He encouraged. (Y/n) was the first one to move, putting her hands on his shoulders. She pulled him closer before suddenly pushing him away. Steve had quickly thought he had did something wrong and stepped back further ready to apologize before he realized she was just removing her slip.

Quickly stepping out of it, she reaches Steve again and-

"What is that?" Bucky asked, interrupting and reminding them they weren't alone. They stepped back from each other. " What are you wearing? What is that?"

"My girdle?"

"When did you start wearing a girdle? I've never noticed."

" I've... I gained some weight in the back, and I've been having trouble...This slims me out." she kind of wished she kept her slip on now not liking where the attention was going.

"You don't need to slim out," Steve said. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She decided to keep the comments about how this beauty fit her clothes a bit too tight to herself. Now was not the time for that. Plus they couldn't help anyways.

" How about we take it off," Bucky said, motioning her over. As she stepped forward, he tugged on her girdle and was surprised to find how tight it was. Giving it a few more big tugs it finally came off. " Much better".

She gasped as he kissed her stomach, fueling the heat that was growing in her stomach.

"you should move to the bed."

"Okay." She moved to the bed, pulling Steve with her. She connected their lips again with far more eagerness than before, her hands feeling aimlessly against his flushed skin, gripping and pulling at anything she could get her hands on. Steve left himself to her mercy, letting her take whatever she wanted, simply breathing her in, accepting everything she gave, feeling the heat between their bodies.

"Take off the rest," Bucky called attention to himself. " If you want to actually do it, you need to take off the rest."

No longer shy, the two eagerly shed the last of their clothes.

In the year since their physical relationship began, the throuple had had several intimate moments that involved heavy petting, hands, and fingers and clothes. They had never removed each other's clothes. Some form of fabric was always between them.

Until now.

(y/n) stood shyly, chest red, nipples hard, and a wetness between her thighs that would have had her embarrassed in any other situation. But right now, she was busy eyeing Steve.

Steve stood more like a soldier, chin up, chest out, and head forward. Standing at attention, much like his cock. Which stood tall and wrapped. His stance was more so helpful with his heart rate and breathing. The moment (Y/n) removed her clothes, he lost his breath and feared he'd have an asthma attack before they could even start and ruin everything.

Bucky saw this, the way Steve was breathing through his nose and clenching his hands at his side, clear signs of fighting an oncome asthma attack. He decided to step in a bit more.

"Alright, Stevie, lay down." He was quick to follow instructions. Laying across the bed. Bucky took (Y/n)'s hand and led her to the bed. Helping her up and to straddle Steve sitting on his thighs. He sits next to them.

"Now listen, doll, I'm about to teach you something very important," he said to (y/n) as he kissed her nose. He then pulls a square package out of his pocket. She reaches for it, but he pulls it away. " What is is?"

"A condom?"

"Yes, and I'm going to teach you how to put it on Stevie here, okay?" she nods. " Mind being our test dummy punk." He leaned down to kiss him.

Opening the package, he hands it to (Y/N), and they handle it together. Him placing his hands over hers.

Steve gasped as they touched him, slowly stroking him. " Make sure he's tall and stiff for us." He moaned as they swiped his tip, which was leaking pre-cum. Bucky watched as (Y/n) sighed slightly, licking her lips. Something to explore at another time.

"And now, we're going to pinch the tip and roll it down." Steve closed his eyes tossed his head back and held his breath. They rolled it down all the way to the base and gave it a squeeze.

"Ta-da, you do so well," Bucky said as he leaned down, kissing Steve's neck. "Almost there."

He kisses (Y/n) neck. His fingers went down, and she gasped as she felt him touching her lips. She was more than wet enough.

"Are we ready?"

(Y/n) and Steve nodded nervously. He let go and stepped back, sitting at the desk again. They looked at him, confused.

"This is for the two of you. I'm just watching." Bucky said," Or I could leave and give you some privacy if you'd like?"

"NO" they both screamed.

"Please, no," Steve said, his breath starting to pick up as he sat up

"Please don't go. What if we do something wrong?" Syn said

" I won't go," Bucky said. " And do what feels natural. Follow your instincts and ask if need be. You'll be alright."

They two looked at him nervously, and he just nodded. They both turned back toward each other.

"Hi," they whispered to each other.

(Y/n) took a deep breath before lifting her hips. Steve gasped as she took him in her hands. She held her breath as she started to slowly sink onto him. Steve gasped as the tip slipped in the warmth, wetness, and tightness. (Y/n) whimpered as he slipped further in.

"STOP" Steve shouted breathlessly as he reached up, gripping her hips. " Fuck, please stop. I need to breathe."

"oh, oh no. Are you having an asthma attack? I can get off."

"No." Steve stopped her from getting up, gripping her hips tighter." I just need a moment to breathe. To catch my breath."

"Steve," Bucky spoke up. " You can stop here."

"No, I don't want to. I just need a moment, please."

"Okay, okay," (Y/n) leaned down, kissing his cheek. "Take your time."

Fortunately, he only needed a few minutes before he thought himself read (her thighs were starting to burn). She sunk the rest of the way down, taking all of him. Steve whimpered and dug his nails into her hip.

"Can I move?" (y/n) asked

"God, yes, please, yes." closing his eyes and tossing his head back.

She did as told. Slowly, she started going up and down, bouncing on him and moaning softly. She leaned forward, placing her hands on either side of his head. She continued to bounce. The sound of moans and skin slapping filled the room.

The site, the sound, Bucky couldn't help himself as he slipped his hand into his pants, finding his already leaking cock. He bit back a moan as he began to stroke himself as he watched (Y/n) start to bounce faster.

" I -I want a kiss," (Y/n) asked, still bouncing on Steve." Please, can I have a kiss, Stevie?"

He opened his eyes and-

"NGH ahhh"

He came.

The site of her leaning over, face and chest flushed, breast so close, and then further now where they were still connected. Yeah, he came in an instant. (Y/n) stopped.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm so sorry. I don't- I didn't-"

"That was a pretty face," she suddenly said, and it was. It made that feeling in her stomach tighter and warmer. She wished it lasted longer, that she had taken a picture of it, and that he'd done it again.

"Shit" They both looked up to see Bucky slumped down in his seat with a hand down his pants and a large wet spot formed on his pants.

(Y/n) started to sit up and remove Steve.

"Doll, did you finish?" Bucky asked.

"Um, no. But that's okay. A friend told me girls can't always finish like boys." (Y/n) just shrugged it off.

"No." Bucky removed his hand from his pants and approached the bed. He pushed her back down on Steve's cock, making his whimper" Stevie, this right here" He took his hand and put it right on her clit. "Rub it in circles."

(Y/n) yelp as he touched it and moaned as he began to rub it in circles. That warm and tight feeling in her stomach started to return. Steve whimpered as he felt her tightness around his already sensitive cock. He began to rub faster as he felt the need to come again. With the tightness surrounding his cock and Bucky whispering in her ear to make her come, make her come on his cock, treat her good. Be Good.

He was coming again, and she was coming this time as well. She moaned as she collapsed on his chest, arching her back nails digging into his chest.

-

"How was it?" Bucky asked as he watched (Y/n) dap the small cuts on Steve's chest. After being spent, Steve quickly gave in to exhaustion, leaving Bucky and (Y/n) to clean him up.

"It wasn't what I expected," (Y/n) said as she helped Bucky lift Steve's hips, putting some boxers on.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. It was really good."

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 31

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 30 🟣 Part 32

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August, Sherlock, Charles, Melot and Napoleon

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: ongoing vampire shenanigans, Melot's ongoing identity crisis gets worse (courtesy of Mikey), lore (buckle up)

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Alright, as promised! Major thank you to @geralts-yenn (as usual) and @wa-ni for putting these babies back in my brain. I hope they're there for the long run because OH BOY did I dream up some filth that I'm desperate to share with everyone...

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo @mysweetlittledesire

Melot didn’t show up for dinner. He’d kicked you out of the room too, seconds after Mike had left, and now you were sitting at the dinner table, opposite questioning looks from the others.

“He wants to be alone,” Mike said. It was easier to get everyone to believe stuff like that when Mike said it. After all, the man knew what he was talking about.

It came as no surprise, then, that everyone dropped the subject. You ate dinner, mostly in silence, with ‘pass me the salt’ being virtually the only exception. It was hell.

Then, a flick of a switch. Off, on. Off again, and back on. Fast as lightning, and it sure as hell wasn’t the light. The feeling had come from somewhere inside you…

“You found him.” Marshall nodded approvingly from across the table, casting a few quick glances between you and Sherlock.

“Sherlock?” you asked. He looked at you with raised eyebrows and hummed by means of a reply. “Do that again, please.”

A smile spread across his handsome face at a glacial pace while a sigh of relief escaped you.

“As much as I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t mind you couldn’t find me, I must admit I am quite glad that you did manage,” he confessed.

“Where did you go?”

“I brought Melot a plate,” he explained. “Whatever Mike did — Mike, don’t bother — it shouldn’t keep Melot from August’s exquisite risotto.”

Dessert was the richest, creamiest and probably only homemade chocolate mousse you’d ever encountered in your life so far. It didn’t taste anywhere near as good as it should have.

“We should go talk to him,” Mike said. He'd practically inhaled his own dessert. You slid what was left of yours — about half — over to him. He made quick work of that, too, and then got up.

“I thought he wanted to be alone,” you said.

“He does,” Mike responded indifferently. “But just because he wants the sky to be green and the grass purple, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

“He’s already working himself into a frenzy,” August added.

“Being alone is not good for Melot.” You were surprised that Charles even cared enough to weigh in on the situation, but you kept your mouth shut. Seemed like the smart thing to do.

“Absolutely correct.” Marshall threw a knowing smile your way.

Mike dragged you out of the kitchen, picking you up without asking to rush you to Melot’s room. He didn’t bother to knock.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Melot was lying on his bed, curled up in a ball, knees tucked tightly into his chest. His shoulders moved, although he didn’t make a sound. As soon as Mike spoke, Melot was on his feet, and in a split second the two were standing toe-to-toe with each other.

“You,” Melot snapped. “What did you do to me?”

Mike burst out in laughter. “What did I— you’re joking, right?”

A sharp smacking sound, Mike reaching for his cheek… Your eyes opened wide at the sight. Before Melot could strike again, Mike grabbed both of his wrists.

“I know you’re not seriously accusing me of what I think you just tried to accuse me of,” Mike snarled, baring his teeth. “It’s fine that you’re not sure how to handle this, but this” — he made a general gesture with his arms, dragging Melot’s along like he was a puppet  — “is not it.” He let go, his eyes suspicious.

“This is not who I am,” Melot stammered, his voice tired and broken.

“Oh, but it is, Melmel,” Mike said with a taunting grin. “You like boys.”

He what? You hadn’t seen that coming, that’s for sure. Okay, maybe a little, but you’d written off your interpretation of that strange, tense moment between the guys as a projection of a kind of fantasy you never even knew you’d had. Only it hadn’t been a fantasy. You’d simply seen that for what it was.

“I don’t—” Melot started, but Mike put a finger on his lips to shut him up.

“It’s the twenty-first century, baby!” He pulled his hand back again, draping his arms loosely around Melot’s neck. “Say it. I promise you’ll feel better.”

“I guess I’m… not gay, I mean, but maybe—”

“You’ll have plenty of time for the whole identity crisis later,” Mike said. “Just acknowledge what you know you’re feeling right now. It helps, trust me.”

“I like…” Melot’s voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “I like at least one boy.” As soon as the words left his mouth, a sense of calm washed over him: he let his breath out on a dramatic sigh that turned into an exasperated chuckle, his shoulders dropped half a mile, and he leaned his forehead against Mike’s.

You’d watched the whole thing in silence, with an open mouth, and afraid to breathe or do anything to draw attention to yourself, but when Mike leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss on Melot’s lips…

“Aww.” Christ on a bike, what an award-winning response…

The boys turned their heads towards you. Mike raised an eyebrow, Melot looked shocked — as if he’d completely forgotten you were even there to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “But you two are surprisingly cute together.”

They both glared at you — Mike’s face morphing into a grin well before Melot’s did.

“Do they know?” Melot asked, his voice soft and brittle.

“Who? The mind-reading bunch of vampires, most of whom you’ve been living with for multiple centuries?” Mike raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh.

The whole situation felt strangely comfortable, yet at the same time you felt incredibly out of place in it. Should you leave them to it? There was clearly a lot to unpack here, still, and you weren’t sure if you had any business being there to begin with.

“Don’t leave,” Mike said, once again grinning like a fool. “As badly as he wants me, he wants you more.”

Melot let out a frustrated cry before launching himself onto his bed in the most dramatic way. It was adorable. He scrambled to get under the covers, and hid his face in a pillow.

“Too bad those aren’t going to keep me away,” Mike said as he slowly stalked towards the bed.  “Come on, sweetcheeks. He needs cuddles!”

You hesitantly walked over to the side Mike hadn’t claimed, and looked at Melot. He pulled the covers back, inviting you into the bed. A wave of relief rushed through you as you got into bed with the guys.

It was quiet for a long time, in which Melot kept looking back and forth between you and Mike, unsure what to do, what to say… “How can I want you both?” he finally whispered on an exhale.

“Sexually, the answer is easy,” Mike said. “We’re both smoking hot, and you like that, so—”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Melot muttered, his cheeks slowly coloring pink. “Okay, for her, sure — no offense. But you��”

“None taken?” you half-said, half-asked carefully. Mike chuckled.

“You’ve never been attracted to me, actually,” he said casually. “Not until last week, anyway. You were always so distant, so… high above all of us. Why?”

“I was the eldest — in a way. I had a responsibility,” Melot explained. “It always felt unnatural” — he considered his words for a moment — “well, not always. It’s complicated. I felt incredibly out of place in the old, authoritarian coven I was a part of before Charles and Sherlock… And when I turned them, I was able to finally break those bonds, but it left me with this strange power over them.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I took care to use that power as little as possible. Charles fought me for the position more than once.”

“But, why?” you asked. The story didn’t exactly provide great publicity for Charles… Not that that surprised you.

“He thought I lacked experience,” Melot said. “He wasn’t wrong, per se. Charles and Sherlock both managed to hold onto their positions at court, even shortly after they were turned. I was constantly plagued by my visions, starting to discover my healing ability… Ancient vampires are widely known for having the impulse-control of a toddler on crack.”

Mike coughed — a poor attempt to cover up his laughter. Melot glared at him and continued: “I had spent five centuries staying out of everyone’s way, living in a large coven, away from human society.”

“Why did you leave?” you wondered.

“Remember what I said before? About you making me kneel by your feet like a dog?” Yeah. You remembered. “I didn’t make that up. Catharine — the Queen of that coven — kept me as one of her personal pets. I was her prized possession. Or rather: my gift was. She’d seek my counsel, and proceed to ignore it, punishing me when things invariably went completely sideways. I’m sure she cursed herself for training us and our gifts so well, when I finally ran. It allowed me to stay out of her hands for nearly two centuries before I was finally able to sever the bond with the help of Charles and Sherlock — mostly Charles.”

“How did you do it?” You snuggled closer to him — Mike did the same on his other side.

“I’m not proud of it,” Melot said, tears forming in his eyes. “She came after me once again, sweet at first, begging me to come back, pulling the strings with all her might. I thought she’d pull my heart right out of my chest. I’d only ever been able to resist her pull and run, but with Charles and Sherlock behind me, helping me… When I refused, the bond snapped. That’s when she attacked me. Charles took her out — he almost died doing it… If she’d come around a decade sooner, I wouldn’t have been able to save him. I owe him my life, in more ways than one.”

“That still doesn’t explain the high and mighty attitude from before,” Mike joked — was it a joke? Not completely…

“We agreed on a fairly democratic structure. It became more difficult when Sherlock created Marshall, and August somehow found his way back to the coven. You can’t imagine the amount of fighting I had to shut down between Charles and August.”

No, actually you could imagine that perfectly well.

Mike laughed. “You really can’t. They’ve been very civil since you got here.”

“And they’re more afraid of Sherlock than they ever were of me,” Melot added, finally smiling again. “I can’t say I mourn my involuntary resignation. I finally have the opportunity to see who I am, and who I want to be, and what I want to do.”

“And two of the things you want to do are in your bed right now,” Mike said, pressing his lips to Melot’s shoulder.

He shrugged him off. “Don’t make it sound so lewd,” he snapped. You ran a finger down his cheek, hoping to calm him as well as get his attention. It worked; he turned his head to you.

“Don’t listen to Mikey, you know he means well. He can’t help it he’s such a mess,” you said softly. Melot chuckled — it turned into full-blown laughter when he saw the adorable frown on Mikey’s face. “What do you want to do?”

Melot stared up at the ceiling. “I think I want to go to college,” he said slowly, chewing on every word.

“Hell yeah! You could probably start next semester,” Mike immediately chimed in cheerfully, a grin stretching across his face. “I mean, it’s too late to get a dorm but we can be roommates, and—”

“Mike!” you said, reaching over Melot to put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t scare him!”

“Why would I want to live in a dorm to begin with?” Melot asked, surprised.

“For the experience,” Mike explained.

You virtually begged for an explanation. What experience could he possibly mean? Constant noise, people everywhere, having a tiny bed in a tiny — and shared — room that always smelled of microwaved whatever?

“Yes! That experience!” He rolled his eyes at you when you pointed out he himself hadn’t been staying in a dorm last semester, either. “Sweetcheeks, this is my third degree.”

What? As it turned out, Mike had degrees in journalism and computer science. You stared at him when he told you, trying with all your might to keep your face in check.

“I'm not as much of a clown as you think, Sweetcheeks. Just mostly.” He grinned at you before nuzzling Melot’s neck. “I think you should talk to the others, Mel.”

“What if they think it’s a bad idea?” he said softly, pulling you closer. “What if they think I shouldn’t leave this place? That I'm not ready?”

“Just apply to a few schools. Enroll in a few community college classes, even. You can always cancel if you really don’t feel ready by the end of summer!” Mike was clearly excited about the idea of Melot going to college. “Talk to Sherlock first, if you want to be certain of support! There’s no way he won’t let you go!”

“Quick question,” you interjected before Mike or Melot could start another monologue you wouldn’t be able to break in to. “Why wouldn’t you be ready?”

“Think back to ‘follow the teeth’ for a moment,” Melot explained. “They’re always on the lookout for human blood. I’m an incredibly powerful vampire who has been shielded from humanity for an incredibly long time. To set me loose in an environment packed with humans — a school, for example — would be…”

“A choice,” Mike finished. “And a particularly poor one, too.”

“But with you around…” Melot smiled apologetically. “Please don’t think you’re no more than food for me, I… It’s not fair to ask this of you already. Any of it. I’m so incredibly sorry.” He tried to turn away from you, but Mike pushed him back.

“Melot, when I offered to let you feed earlier, I was not planning on that being a one time thing,” you said, stroking his cheek. “We may not know each other well yet, but I’d love to change that. Let’s take some time to hang out this summer, and you can feed with the same freedom as the others… And we’ll see how it goes. But please, at least keep your options open when it comes to college.”

Melot nodded slowly before pulling you in for a hug that Mike joined in on as soon as he could. “Thank you. Both of you.”

You cuddled in silence for a while. It was amazing — Melot finally felt warm, Mike let out a chorus of happy humming sounds, sometimes interrupted by adorably disgruntled ones as you and Mel both kept reprimanding him every time he tried to get handsy.

“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be in bed with two people and knowing they both want to fuck you, and to then just… get nothing?” he finally grumbled.

Melot almost jumped out of bed listening to Mike’s complaint. “What? I never said— I don’t… I—”

 “It’s okay, Mel,” you said. “Sometimes” — you glared at Mike — “our brain needs a little time to catch up to whatever carnal desire Mike already picks up on. And that’s okay.” You hissed those last words specifically at Mike.

“I promise that I am trying my very best to behave!” Mike huffed. “I really am! But he’s reacting to visions he’s having of things that will probably happen and it’s driving me insane! Mel is really making this hard for me — interpret ‘this’ either way.”

“How do you know they’re visions I’m reacting to?” Melot wondered.

“There’s a difference between a simple desire and anticipation,” Mike said like it was supposed to explain anything. One look at your — and Melot’s — confused face made him roll his eyes. “It’s like… We always want blood, right? Well, that desire feels differently when we’re about to sink our teeth into someone. It becomes more present, heightened…”

“That doesn’t explain how you know he’s reacting to visions — which, by the way, you told me weren’t actually visions, Melot?” you noted.

“Call them visions for simplicity, I really couldn’t explain it. You’ll see for yourself, at some point.” Melot’s confidence when it came to this statement was haunting. “Back to the question: Mike… how?”

“You react in a similar way to immediate anticipation,” Mike explained. “It’s subtler — duller, almost — but it’s distinct.”

You both looked at him in awe. “How is your gift stronger and more sophisticated after four decades than mine are after fourteen centuries?” Melot exclaimed dramatically.

“I use this gift all the time,” Mike explained with a big, goofy smile. “It’s not like seeing the future, which isn’t a stable gift to begin with — yeah, I pay attention to the things Sherlock says sometimes — or the healing, which you literally just admitted to not practicing for the first few centuries of your existence. Bet you could get into med school with that…”

“I don’t want to,” Mel whispered.

“See? You can’t complain about not developing a gift you refuse to use.” Mike saying something that smart and logical was a phenomenon that just never got old. “Right now, what we should be developing, anyway, is your ability to function around humans.”

You just so happened to have an idea on how to do that…

[celestianstars]

Every word of this was breathtaking, Tara! 🩵 I am a mess in the best way. I loved reading this, and then reading it again!

The imagery of water all throughout is so beautiful it’s like you captured the sea as its own character, incredibly powerful and deadly bringing these two together and at the same time almost parting them forever—it’s haunting and I’m so in awe!

Goshhh how close they both were to drowning genuinely made my heart beat a little quicker you are so talented at evoking emotions and I could picture her trying to keep him afloat in the water vividly, her struggle to keep swimming and trying to save him too, how it would be easy to give in because she’s exhausted but she doesn’t 🥺 she looks at Kino’s face and keeps on swimming and I just !!!!!! ahhhh my heart that was such a profound moment that said a lot underneath what was happening!

The waves lap at your face, forcing salt up your nose on an inhale. You splutter, losing your grip on that arm slung across your shoulders, and for a moment it slips. You kick frantically at the water as you scramble for him.

Like! Once again I’m transported right to where they are and it feels like I’m in the water too, it’s sooo good I love how you wrote the beginning sequences, all the tension and desperation, the loss of time and being surrounded by water and then the detail of her dreaming of it, reliving it again because that also says so much in itself, all of that was so neat to read

The emotional layers of their own mortality and coming face to face with it also felt so raw and now they’re just adrift in the aftermath and the reality of escaping the prison while being stuck together whether they want to be or not, it makes for such a compelling and complicated and heart wrenching story and bestie you delivered, you ateee with this I was thinking about this fic for days when I read it

You know you’ll have to recommend sharing body heat at some point soon, but you’re reluctant to do so because you also know it won’t go over well. You’re certain it’s the last thing he wants, even if the alternative is stubbornly dying from exposure.

Ohh Kino…love that stubbornness being ever present, the way you write him does things to me because the way I love how frustrating he can be. Him being like yeah you should have let me drown, ooh this man is aggravating in the “JUST LET ME LOVE YOU IDIOT” kind of way and you are making me yearn so bad and I will forever be in love with your writing!!

The fact that he’s so hung up on how close of a call it was that she almost died too helpp do I sense ✨feelings ✨

Really love how she matches his attitude, she misunderstands his anger and everything he’s holding back as hate towards her and I’m kind of obsessed with how she gives it back to him when he’s being an ass! And I think it’s because really she cares and so does he, they care so much underneath it all and I simply have to scream about ittt

“You wanted to die.” The shocked realization tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says quietly as he gathers those strong arms around himself and crosses them like a shield.

This line was so good! His body language 🥹

“Because I was scared shitless about what could happen to you! That place was cruel to the men it was designed for. Whatever it had in store for you was going to be much worse. I thought…” He runs a hand down his face and over the scruff of his beard…

Oh there it is! Please, his concern is so deep he was terrified for her from the start oh my god…and it makes so much sense why he’d want to try and distance himself, to create a hard line so when the inevitable did happen it wouldn’t hurt so bad to see I-

The vulnerability is incredible between them but especially from Kino, the fact that he didn’t think he was worth it if she had died saving him wow that hit me like a ton a bricks

This man can’t keep getting away with breaking my heart wtf!

TARA THE KISS! The kiss oh my god that was beautiful and the moment right before that with her reassuring him that she’s right here, they survived and she’s desperate to get him to see what she sees is literally so tender I have to take a second

I love that he went for it like it’s almost as if he can’t keep it back anymore and his apology in words, the way he rests his forehead against hers, the yearning is too real and it’s so amazing to watch these two realize they are breathing and next to one another and this moment is all theirs

Her “show me” yesss girl I know that’s right, she deserves it! They both need this, to come back from the edge of death that they’ve been so close to these handful of days wowww yes this is just perfect and the building up of them finally letting the walls down is everything, I was glued to the words!

He smells like sweat and smoke and saltwater, and his skin is sharp and briny on your tongue, as you lap at a spot on his neck. He tastes like drowning…

I think this may be my favorite line 🥺😍 so gorgeous especially that last line oh

Even how he lays her down, it’s different and she can tell he’s making it up to her and all the sensations that are in contrast here too, the hard rock underneath her and the chill air but Kino is covering her and pulling her under a different kind of tide and I am SHOOK at the heat there, the steaminess!

The sounds he makes oh my god he’s so sexy even in this perilous situation I love that they can indulge in the desire for one another, jfc 🥵🥵🥵 the way he speaks to her, how he doesn’t let her look away from him, how he wants to see and hear what he’s doing to her I am in love and in my feels ahhhh

“Above you, he’s blanketing you in heat and the delicious slide of flesh along your nerves. A lovely contrast already, but then his hand finds your hip, his fingers digging into your fresh bruise, and you gasp from the pain—it hurts, but if it hurts that means you’re alive. He doesn’t stop at the sound. Instead, there’s understanding in those eyes as he pulls you in to meet each plunge of his cock, and, oh, that’s even better.”

NEED THAT OLD MAN SO CARNALLY FR

Literally every word of this felt intentional and swept me right up from the beginning and you’re incredible for sharing this masterpiece with us all!

In the afterglow of it all Kino doesn’t shut down! My heart fluttered when he held his arms open for her and she snuggled against him in the end—the detail about being lost, the unknown is before them and it’s terrifying, they aren’t even out of the woods yet and very much still on the run but now they are together, the agreement that they’ll figure it out together in the morning…excuse me I will cry I’m being so serious right now!

Her insistence and reminder once again that he can’t ever tell her he’s not worth it to her, I LOVE IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH 🥲💞

That little passage at the end you included by Ocean Vuong is so fitting and so beautiful for this story, they became water in the end…your use of symbolism and just the sheer depth of emotions is so stunning and makes it all poignant and moving!

I could rave about this all day truly so thank you for writing this, it was a fantastic read!

Remember You Are Half Water

Pairing: Kino Loy x f!Reader

(7.2 k words)

AO3 link

Summary: Drowning is easy. It's surviving that's hard. Or: After the prison break, you and Kino hide out on Narkina 5.

Warnings: (18+) Explicit, angst, enemies to lovers (kind of), they argue and not in the flirty way, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, grim realism, survival situation, descriptions of drowning, descriptions of resuscitation, cpr, thoughts of death, thoughts of dying, talk of dying, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of imprisonment, themes of death, themes of drowning, description of pain, dreams, nightmares, illness, self-indulgent melancholia

A/N: I accidentally wrote this after getting a random idea in my head while working on I Want You to Show Me Weak (my brain will do anything but finish a fic 😌), so have a surprise Kino oneshot. Just please mind the tags, especially with the events currently happening in the real world. This isn't a dark fic, but the tone is quite grim. (Mostly. I am still a filthy hopeless romantic, after all.) Also, I'm well aware of what Narkina 5 is supposed to look like, however I simply Do Not care 😌

Fic title is from The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood. Collage quote from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Ocean.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me) it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

- e.e. cummings, maggie and milly and molly and may

Your lungs burn.

There's a weight across your shoulders, pulling you down and under the waves. Your arms are spent and heavy with exhaustion. You have no idea how long you’ve been swimming—dragging something through the water, but your muscles are on fire. Your lungs are on fire. It would be so easy to just give up.

To just let go.

Because you're so tired. You’ve heard drowning isn't so bad. Like going to sleep, they say. You can do that. That's nothing compared to this.

You catch sight of a face at your side, barely breaching the surface. His face. His eyes are closed and his mouth is slack. Like he's sleeping.

You go back to swimming.

“Breathe, goddamn you!” You sob. Even though you're numb from the cold, your hand is trembling as you pound against his back with your fist. Between the shoulder blades, behind his lungs. Every hit makes a wet slap. His white uniform is soaked through and nearly translucent. It clings to him. The water, greedy, still won't let him go. “Don't you fucking do this, you prick! Wake up!”

He doesn't flinch under your assault. Not even when you roll him back over onto the rocky sand and press a rhythm into his ribs.

This is worse, you think, because now you can see his face and feel the ghost of his angry stare, even through his closed eyelids. His skin is grey and clammy, his lips nearly blue, and his beard and hair are slick and dark with water. His expression is relaxed. Peaceful. Not asleep. He's never looked like that before. This isn't how he's supposed to look.

The only movement beneath your hands is the jolt of his body from the compressions.

You let out a scream of frustration.

The waves lap at your face, forcing salt up your nose on an inhale. You splutter, losing your grip on that arm slung around your shoulders, and for a moment it slips. You kick frantically at the water as you scramble for him.

“No—” Your voice gets choked off by the whitecap of another wave.

You grab at his face, drive it back above the surface, even as you plunge below it. Whatever else you were going to shout is lost in a cloud of bubbles. You're the only thing keeping him from sinking to the bottom now. Just you, clinging to the hope of life.

You can't think about that dead weight.

You fight back to the surface with a cough, spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. You have to keep moving. You have to keep—

You’re being shaken awake. The hand on your shoulder is warm, but the grip is almost harsh—unforgiving as the fingers dig into your flesh.

You blink your eyes open to find Kino staring down at you with a frown. The light from the small fire throws shadows across his face and deepens the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth and along his forehead, making him look even more severe than he usually does.

“You were dreaming again,” he grumbles. Then he releases your shoulder without warning, nearly shoving away from you in the process, and he shuffles back across to his side of the small cave to resume lying down.

Now that you're conscious, all of your injuries and pains from the past few days come rushing back to fill your awareness. You let out a groan as you push yourself up off the cold stone floor. Not that sitting is any better—there’s a rock digging into your ass to prove your point, and you send it skittering. It doesn't make a difference. With a sigh, you rub the heels of your hands into your heavy eyelids in an attempt to clear the blurriness from your vision.

“Sorry,” you try, your voice hoarse with sleep. You quickly clear your throat and try again. “Didn't mean to wake you.”

He only grunts in response.

The sky at the mouth of the cave is a slate grey. It’s been raining the last few days—as if the water is trying to follow you ashore—so you aren't sure if the muted light is the growing dawn or due to the thick storm clouds that leave the landscape darkened, no matter where the sun is overhead. It's made everything damp and chilly, and you can feel it in every joint and bone. Between that, your desperate and adrenaline fueled escape from the prison, nearly drowning, and laying on the hard, rocky ground, your entire body aches.

You're both still wearing your white and orange uniforms, though they're worn and filthy now. More brown than white. The fabric is also next to useless outside of a temperature controlled environment, but you have nothing else to keep you warm and nothing at all for your feet. You’d gotten lucky that there had been driftwood piled inside the seaside cave, brought in by the tide and left safe from the rain. Kino had found several more pieces along the beach on that first day and dragged them into the shelter to dry out. Neither of you dared to venture any further afterwards, either from fear or exhaustion.

The last of the wood is burning between you, and, when it’s gone, there won't be anything left to keep the chill at bay. You know you’ll have to recommend sharing body heat at some point soon, but you're reluctant to do so because you also know it won't go over well. You're certain it's the last thing he wants, even if the alternative is stubbornly dying from exposure.

“Think they’ve moved on yet?” You ask, just to have something to distract you from your thoughts.

“Doubt it,” he replies in that gruff voice.

“Yeah,” you sigh. You slump forward and let your forearms rest on your knees, suddenly weary. “But we're going to have to leave eventually. We need food and real shelter.”

“You’re too weak to walk it,” he says to the cave wall.

“I’m fine,” you insist.

Kino's head whips around, and he meets your eyes with a glare. “No, you're not.” You let out a noise of disgust before you can reconsider, and his jaw clenches in response. “You nearly died.”

“Don’t start this again.” You mean it as a plea, but it comes out merely resigned in your exhaustion. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had this argument since you first woke up to him coughing and shouting on the beach. You don't want to have it again.

“Like you’d listen anyway,” he says. And then he scowls, like you're the problem.

Alright, maybe you'll have it one more time.

“Gods, that bit of power really did go straight to your thick skull didn't it?” You laugh in disbelief. “Why can't you just accept that it was my choice? Mine!”

“I’m well aware of your poor decision making!” He shoots back. Then he sits up to face you, and now it's a proper fight, you think. “I’ve already told you, no one was supposed to die because of me!”

“And I already told you to get over yourself!” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Do I look fucking dead to you? Hmm?”

“Don't act like it wasn't a close call!”

“I never said it wasn't.” You pinch at the bridge of your nose in an attempt to keep your frustration at bay. Screaming won't make him listen to reason, no matter how good it will feel. “What would you have had me do, Kino? Just let you drown?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.

“Well, I didn't.” Your arm flops to your side, too heavy to hold up now. “So maybe you should just consider being fucking grateful instead.”

“I didn't ask for this!” He snaps. It's followed by an immediate look of regret.

Oh. That's new. You take a moment to study his face—the way he can suddenly no longer meet your eyes, like he's ashamed of all things.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You ignore his sardonic, “You.”

Because you don't understand him. Is he really this upset or his pride so wounded over the fact that he needed to be saved? Is he truly this angry just because someone—or more specifically you—saw him when he was weak after being in control for so long? Those are convenient reasons. They're probably even contributing to his horrid mood, but they don't feel as if they’re the reason. It's almost as if—

“You wanted to die.” The shocked realization tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

There's a long, deafening beat of silence.

“You don't know what you're talking about,” he says quietly as he gathers those strong arms around himself and crosses them like a shield.

Part of your mind is screaming at you to just drop it. You’ve entered new territory. You've never made him defensive like this before, and you don't know how he'll react. But based on all of your previous interactions with him, you know it won't be pleasant. Which is an understatement. The stubborn part of you, however, hopes that this means you're actually making progress. And if you’ve come this far…

“Is that why you won't even try to leave this shit hole again?” You press. “Is that why you're trading one prison for another?”

“That has nothing to do with this,” he says as he narrows his eyes at you, and you're almost disappointed to hear some of his anger returning.

“Yeah right,” you scoff.

“Listen, neither of us is in any condition to evade the searches. All we’re going to accomplish is getting caught.” It sounds almost reasonable, but you know better. You know it for what it really is: a deflection. You did hit a nerve.

“That's only going to get worse,” you argue back. “The lack of food is going to weaken us further, assuming we don't freeze to death first.”

“And it will still be easier if we're not being hunted. We have to be patient,” he says as his frown deepens, frustration beginning to take root once again. “Let them think we’re dead or gone.”

“And how long will that take? Days? Weeks?”

“A hell of a lot longer than three days!”

“Fine. Then we should at least go out and do some scouting so we have an idea of which way to go when the time comes,” you offer instead. “We might even find supplies.”

“It's too risky,” he says dismissively as he waves you off. You bristle against the gesture. “We’re safe here. The cave entrance is hard to find, but if we go in and out too often, we’ll draw attention to ourselves.”

“There's always going to be risk, Kino, whether we leave tonight or a week from now. If we wait, it could be too late,” you point out. “For all we know, the Empire is sending a blockade to keep us all trapped here! Then what?”

“They aren't going to send a blockade for a prison break,” he scoffs.

“And how can you possibly know that?”

“How can you?”

“Why is it so hard for you to trust me?” You hate the hint of misery that seeps into your voice and betrays how much that idea pains you.

“Why should I? If I recall correctly, your judgment has nearly gotten you killed once already,” he says in a mocking tone.

You glare at him. “My judgment saved both our lives.”

He glares right back. “I'm starting to think that was sheer dumb luck.”

Oh, how fucking dare he. After everything you went through—

“I didn't realize you were such a coward,” you say coldly, desperate to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.

The tendons in his neck go taut with rage. “Fuck you,” he spits, but he no more than gets the words out when he's racked with a violent coughing fit. The force of it makes him double over onto the cave floor, and his body heaves with each one.

You wince at the sight, feeling ashamed of your comment now. You didn't want this.

The coughing spells are a parting gift from Narkina 5—the water still won't let him go. He's had a few of them since you got him to shore and forced the ocean from his lungs, and each one sounds a little bit worse than the one before. You're no healer, but that's obviously not a good sign. He needs medicine. You also haven't broached the subject with him because you know it will just start a fight.

As if everything you say doesn't start a fight.

You lean back to wait it out, letting your head thunk tiredly against the cave wall. There's nothing you can do to help him and trying will only make it worse—you learned that the hard way. Plus, it doesn't seem fair to argue with him while he's like this, even if you're only doing it to get through to him for his own good, the stubborn jerk.

It takes several minutes before he finally stops coughing long enough to get his breathing under control. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, rights himself with as much dignity as he can muster, and gives you a cold, hard stare. “Go, then, if you're in such a hurry to end up back in a cell,” he grits out, his voice a strained, wet gravel.

“Fine,” you huff, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here and waste away if you want. See if I care. I can find a way off this slag heap by myself.”

You almost make it past the mouth of the cave.

The moment your foot touches the rain slicked rock, the combination of fatigue and an unsteady gait causes you to slip. You hit the ground with a grunt, landing hard on your hip. Sharp, hot pain shoots through the joint, curling up your spine and down your leg. The shock of it takes your breath away, and your eyes sting with fresh tears.

Oh, brilliant, you think caustically. Of all the times to fall on your ass.

Behind you, Kino swears. A second later, you hear the slap of his bare feet on rock as he stomps towards you.

“Broken?” He doesn't quite snap the question at you, but it's a near thing.

“No,” you choke out.

“You have a fucking death wish,” he growls before he hauls you to a sitting position.

Despite the pain, that statement makes you laugh, though it's a bitter, near hysterical sound. You tilt your head back to grin up at him. “Guess we make quite the pair, huh?”

He doesn't respond.

He just shoves his hands under your armpits in an attempt to get a grip on you with those thick fingers. Then your laughter quickly dissolves into a wounded hiss as he drags you back into the cave with no care for your new injury. You're not sure why you suddenly expected him to start coddling you. He never did before.

He dumps you back into the spot you’ve been occupying, glad to be rid of you, and you catch yourself with your hands before you land in a heap.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

After that, neither of you speaks for a while, content to sit and lick your wounds in what passes for peace now. Eventually, the pain in your hip lessens to a dull throb and the fire is reduced to embers, the long hours sucking the heat out of both.

Outside, the sky has gotten a bit lighter, but is still that dreary mask of grey that makes time feel nebulous. Unknowable. The rain, at least, had turned into a mist about an hour ago. Without the sound of the drops echoing throughout the cave, the silence is unforgiving. Every shuffle along the rock, every sniffle or sigh, every brush of clothes is harsh between you.

“Why are you so mad at me?” You finally ask, desperate for any noise that isn't him heavily exhaling a whistle through his nose.

“I already told you,” he replies, emotionless.

“I’m not talking about that,” you sigh. “You hated me the moment I stepped onto the floor.”

In the low light, there's a brief look of shock on his profile before his scowl returns in full force. “I didn't hate you.”

“Yes you did. You could barely look at me. And you yelled at me all the time.” He opens his mouth to protest, but you continue on so he can't interrupt you. “Look, I understand, in a way. I was slower than nearly all of the men, and you were pissed about being stuck with me. But it's not like I did it on purpose.”

“It wasn't that.” There's a renewed touch of exasperation in his voice. You're intimately familiar with that tone. You’ve heard the way he normally sounds when speaking to other people—got to see what it was like without ever experiencing it yourself—but you’ve never spoken to him without receiving either his impatience or his distaste. You prepare yourself for another fight.

“Then why? Because I was a distraction?” Your bitterness bleeds from you, an anguish built from months of labor and fear. And loneliness, you think. Because, even though you’d been constantly surrounded by people, you’d never felt so completely and utterly alone.

“It's nothing.” He rolls onto his side to face the cave wall, intent on ignoring you.

“It clearly wasn't nothing,” you respond dryly.

“Just drop it,” he says over his shoulder.

“No.” You cross your arms. You're done listening to him just because he tells you to. You don't have to now. You're not in there anymore. “After everything, I think I deserve to know what I did to have you treat me that way.”

“And I don't want to fucking talk about it,” he growls.

“Well, too damn bad! Because there's nothing else to talk about, and I want to know why you hated me when all I wanted was—” You cut yourself off with a hitched breath before you accidentally finish that sentence.

Fighting is one thing. That's easy. Safe. But this is something big and messy that you're still trying to come to terms with, made all the more complicated by your current situation, which was already plenty complicated before. This will only make things worse. You know it will. And despite all the hurtful things you’ve said to each other, you wouldn't be able to stomach his rejection. His pity. His disgust—couldn’t handle being forced to endure it while stuck in this damned cave and made to wallow in the forced intimacy of the space that's anything but. No, this is the one truth you could never take back.

To your embarrassment, your voice is rough and raw with emotion when you speak again. “When all I wanted was to be treated like a person.”

“If that's what you wanted, you were in the wrong place,” he says coldly to the cave wall. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

“No!” You shout. You no longer care if you’re being petulant because you are angry about it. You’ve been holding onto the feeling for months, but you're tired now. You don't want to carry it around anymore. “I won't let you bully me into silence. I want the truth.”

“Keep your voice down!” He hisses as he flings himself upright to glare at you. Every bit of him is rigid with tension. Dangerous. At least he's looking at you again.

“Then answer me!” You stubbornly glare back at him. “You owe me that much.”

“Fine! I was afraid, alright?” He finally snarls, reminding you of a cornered animal, spitting as it lashes out. “Is that what you want to hear? That you were right? That I'm a coward?”

“What?” All of your anger leaves you in a sudden rush. The hiding, the running, the water—that fear you can understand. But this? You stare at him in genuine confusion. “Why?”

“Because I was scared shitless about what could happen to you! That place was cruel to the men it was designed for. Whatever it had in store for you was going to be much worse. I thought…” He runs a hand down his face and over the scruff of his beard, now grown out beyond a neat trim. The action wipes his own anger away, and underneath it is something human: exhaustion and vulnerability. “I thought, if I kept you at a distance, it would hurt less when it finally broke you, but you made it so damn hard.”

“Oh,” you breathe out in shock, as though you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you. You have, in a way, because, gods, what can you possibly say to that? It's the last thing you were expecting—realistically, you thought he was worried your lack of strength or speed would get someone else killed. This, however…you couldn't have even imagined this. The implication of it… “Kino—”

“Don't. Okay?” He cuts you off. And then he turns away to shut you out as well. “Just…fucking don't.”

So instead you sit there in the uneasy quiet of the cave, feeling adrift. Helpless. Like you're right back in the middle of the ocean, at the mercy of the waves, with nothing to hold onto to keep from sinking; there’s only water in your fumbling grasp. At least then you'd known which way you were supposed to go, it was the getting there that was the problem. Now you don't even have that. You wonder if you’d have the energy to even try if you did.

A part of you wants nothing more than to reexamine every interaction, every look, and every word he’s ever spoken to you and see what you might uncover that you'd missed, but you can't do that with him right there. His presence just muddles everything up until you can't help but mix reality and memory, past and present, assumption and realization. You're nearly dizzy with it.

Plus, knowing that things weren't so black and white between you doesn't change what happened or how you feel. You’ve been hurting and angry for a while—especially at him, and most of which he still deserves for how he treated you. That something more existed lessens the intensity of those feelings, but it doesn't erase them completely. Not yet. Reconciling what you know and what you thought you knew will only come with time.

To the rest of you, however, that reconciliation doesn't seem as important as your fear at almost losing him or the realization that there is something more than just hatred on his end. Even if that thing is nothing more than kindness and compassion, it's something. And you could have died not knowing that. Or worse, you could have lived without knowing instead.

Gods, complicated is an understatement. If only you could have wanted something easy for once. You wonder if he thought the same thing as he watched you from across the work floor. And it feels odd to think that maybe it's not such an unrealistic hope anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, breaking the silence between you at last.

He laughs, and it manages to sound condescending. The familiarity of it is grounding. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I guess…” What are you apologizing for? For misunderstanding him? For making his life harder, even if it wasn't your fault? For not agreeing with him? For being unable to shoulder his anger? For continuing to push and push and push. Maybe all of it, you realize. For your part in the making of this. “I guess for saving you when you didn't want me to,” you answer with a shrug instead.

At first, you think he isn't going to respond to that, and you can no longer find it in yourself to blame him. But then, with a voice that’s softer than you’ve ever heard from him—weren’t even sure he was capable of it—he says, “It's not that I didn't want to be saved.”

“Then why? Help me to understand, Kino,” you plead, praying that he won't clam up or lash out again. Not when you've come so far. “Please.”

He gives you a heavy, resigned look before settling his attention on the cave entrance where his gaze becomes unseeing. Though there are only a few feet between you, he suddenly seems miles away.

“When we were planning all of this, I knew what was waiting for us on the outside. I mean, they built the fucking thing in the middle of an ocean and I can't swim. How ironic is that? All that work, and I was gonna make it to the door just to drown.” Then, quietly, “I never gave a thought to what I would do if I didn't. Now I've got no clue what comes next.”

“Neither do I,” you say in disbelief.

He lets out a dark laugh. “Sure don't act like it,” he mutters.

“I’m just better at hiding it.” You give him a small smile that he cannot see.

“Maybe I should be, too,” he muses to himself. “It’d be a hell of a lot better than feeling so lost.”

“Hiding it doesn't make that go away,” you say sadly. You know that all too well.

His only reply is a non-committal hum, and it suddenly occurs to you that he has no clue what you actually went through. How could he? He lept into the water and woke up on shore with nothing but darkness in between. All he knows is that you saved him. Without the rest, he thinks he's struggling alone.

“I almost gave up, you know,” you admit quietly.

That gets his attention again. He turns to look at you, and his eyes are wide with fear and concern. “What?” He gasps.

“I could barely see the shore when the adrenaline wore off. When faced with that distance, all that water, and no strength left?” You shrug in an attempt to seem unbothered, even as the memory fills you with dread. “For one horrible moment, I suppose drowning just seemed easier.” Like going to sleep, you don't say. “But I couldn't. I looked at you, and I couldn't. Not without trying first. And before you say anything, leaving you behind was never an option. Not for me. If this place was going to win, it was going to have to take us both.”

“I never wanted that,” he says helplessly. “When I came to and saw you laying there, I thought you were dead.” His voice breaks and he takes in a deep, shaky breath, but it does little to steady him. “I knew then what you did for me, and I thought it killed you. That after everything, it was me. I broke you, and it wasn't worth it. Not me.”

“You didn't,” you insist, desperate to make him listen. You recognize that despair because it's the same one that haunts your dreams and doesn't let go when you're awake. It's the same fear that grips your chest in icy fingers whenever you catch his sleeping face or you're forced to sit by and listen to him cough—the water still won't let him go. You understand now that he needs the reassurance that it's over just as much as you do. So you push yourself to your knees and dare to move closer, despite the protest of your aching body. “I’m right here. See? I was just tired afterwards, that's all. Just tired. I’m right here.”

Without warning, he reaches for you, and, even though he's never harmed you, you flinch thinking maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. Only, he grabs the front of your uniform and pulls you to him, just as unkindly as he dragged you across the cave. And then you think he's going to scream again, but when he opens his mouth, he leans in and crushes your lips together instead.

You freeze against him.

Because Kino Loy is kissing you, and that can't be right. He hates you. His mouth can only scowl and scream and cough and—there’s a little grunt from the back of his throat as he adjusts the angle of your lips, and, oh, this is real. Without another thought, you're kissing him back.

At first, there's only tentative relief—at the reassurance, the sensation, at finally getting something you want—but heat starts to build in the breath-humid space between your bodies the longer you kiss and kiss. Something born of more than lust or desire. And though they flicker in your belly as well, it's a bone deep desperation to feel alive that drives you forward and aches to be quelled.

When you break apart to catch your breath, he rests his forehead against yours. Close enough for your noses to brush together and to feel each hard exhale—that blessed, life sustaining air—across your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a sob. His voice is low and thick with grief against your mouth. The sound and shape of it is so different from his anger—in the low light, only a ghost of that harshness is left, clinging to the shadowy lines of his face. You don't have to ask what he's apologizing for.

“Show me,” you whisper back. You let your lips brush over his again in invitation. He responds by delving into the wet heat of your mouth and wrapping you in his arms with a moan.

So you give yourself over to the exploration of his tongue against yours and his large, callus roughened hands as they engulf the sides of your face, caught in the whirlwind of him. It leaves you breathless faster than you like, and when you break for air again, you don't want to give him a moment to change his mind or to pull away completely. So your mouth wanders to his cheeks, the scruff on his jaw, his Adam's apple, the hollow of his throat above the collar of his uniform—seeking out every bit of him that you can reach as he pants and swallows beneath your lips.

He smells like sweat and smoke and saltwater, and his skin is sharp and briny on your tongue as you lap at a spot on his neck. He tastes like drowning, and for a moment you're lost in the memory of him in the water, his weight pulling you beneath the waves. His lifeless face staring up at you from the shore. But then he sucks in a sharp breath, jolting you back to the present, and his lips are on yours again. Warm. Alive. Not the cold flesh you forced air through. Not the same shared breath.

“Wanna see you,” you gasp into his mouth as you lift at the hem of his shirt.

Without a word, he moves to obey.

You both peel away your filthy uniforms with trembling hands, revealing bodies that are just as dirty and unwashed to the chilled air, but beneath all of that is color. His flush of arousal. Bruises that are starting to fade, a gruesome rainbow of healing. The shadows playing in the shifting of muscle as he reaches for you to pull you back into the warmth of his arms. Alive.

He's the first soft thing you’ve touched after days of nothing but rock. And before that, months of only tools and labor and struggle. You bask in the sensation: The greying hair on his chest, the roundness of his belly and hips, salt dried skin, his palm on your cheek. The other on your thigh. He’s softer than you remember from when you were hauling him through the waves—

You wrap your hand around his cock, and his heartbeat throbs in your fist. Alive.

He lets out a groan when you stroke him, something deep and guttural that rumbles through the cave like thunder. The sound sends blood and heat rushing to your core, where it pools between your thighs and leaves you aching and empty. You tease the silken foreskin over his length and work your thumb along the underside of the swollen head just to hear more of it.

With a growl, he falls upon you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongues and hunger. His hand cups the swell of your breast while his thumb circles your nipple. You cry out and arch into the roughness of his hand. Then you're both eagerly groping and learning all the ways you can draw more noises from each other until you're left squirming against the insistent throbbing between your legs.

“I want you inside of me,” you murmur into his mouth.

He clenches his eyes shut as his breath hitches, and you're thrilled you can get that reaction out of him. But then he opens his eyes again and, in a shaky voice, asks, “You're sure?”

“Yes!” You growl, impatient. “Fuck me, Kino.”

He lets out a groan. “If you keep that up, I’m not gonna last very long.”

“Don't care as long as your cock is inside me first.”

“Fuck!” He hisses. His hips involuntarily jerk forward at the thought, and said cock grinds into the bend of your groin. “Then I'll give you what you want.”

After that reaction, you think he's going to throw you down and do just that. Instead, his touch gentles, his palm cradling the base of your skull as he lays you out along the rock. The movement doesn't make you feel delicate or like something that's injured and cowering in a cave, but rather like something to be revered.

This is his apology.

A caress along your inner knee has your legs falling open, leaving you exposed before him. Before you can be self-conscious about it, he gives your arousal a heated look that drives the thought from your mind. Then he traces a fingertip up the tender skin of your thigh, and fire licks from your thigh to your belly.

For a moment, you wonder what it would be like to have this on the other side of the galaxy. Not in a cave, but in a bed, warm and clean with a full stomach. Maybe it would be sweet like this between you the whole time rather than something that's taking an effort just to maintain. Because you know this is only a moment—a reprieve. It can't last, not when that cold desperation and panic are rebuilding within your gut.

It's a lovely thought. But by the time he kneels between your thighs, you need again. You pull him down and he goes willingly, falling to brace his hands on the stony ground on either side of your shoulders. Then you hold your breath as he closes the distance, slowly, until the length of his cock is resting and throbbing, flush against your sex.

Your hips grind up against him, trapping him between your heat and his belly so that when he thrusts back, seeking more, he drags himself along your wet folds; the sensitive head of his cock rubs against your clit. Both of you moan, wounded and strangled sounds. So he does it again. And again. Over and over until you're both gasping and shuddering at the slick friction.

All the while he stares down at you, studying you. Taking in the way your face contorts and breaks with pleasure. His eyes are sea blue, you realize—the water, greedy—so wild and deep and pulling you in. It sets your pulse racing and makes your palms sweat against his shoulders. You turn away from the intensity in that gaze.

“No.” To your surprise, he takes your chin between his finger and thumb, not gentle but steady, and he forces you to look anyway. To face him. “Let me see you.”

He holds you there with the weight of his body as he shifts to nudge at your opening. It's so close to what you need. Your legs wrap around his waist in silent encouragement. Then, once he's lined up, he sinks forward with a groan and stretches you open on his cock until you're aching and full.

His mouth goes slack. Those eyes become heavy and lidded. Not closed—alive. Which makes all the difference to your wounded mind. So you drink in the sight of him like this, buried in the tight embrace of your cunt. A ruinous look.

You're drowning again.

It scares you, just how much you want to give yourself over and let go. How easy it would be to become lost. To believe that this is something more than desperation. But then his eyes refocus and whatever tenderness had gripped him is absent from that gaze. In its place is hunger. Need. Urgency.

“Gods, you're so tight,” he grinds out from behind clenched teeth as he gives a shallow thrust into you. The sound goes straight to your core, soaking him further. “Feels so good.”

Then he finally—finally—fucks you. Hard and fast.

The ground is cold and unrelenting beneath your spine where you're folded and crushed against it. Above you, he's blanketing you in heat and the delicious slide of flesh along your nerves. A lovely contrast already, but then his hand finds your hip, his fingers digging into your fresh bruise, and you gasp from the pain—it hurts, but if it hurts that means you're alive. He doesn't stop at the sound. Instead, there's understanding in those eyes as he pulls you in to meet each plunge of his cock, and, oh, that's even better.

You spare a thought for his knees right before he shifts. Then he's dragging against that spot inside of you, and your mind goes blissfully empty with pleasure. Your head falls back, weightless with it. At that opening, he buries his face in your neck, muffling every grunt into your skin. He presses the vibrations of them into your flesh and bones alongside his exhales, the scrape of his beard, the unconscious skim and purse of his lips. You shiver.

You won't come from this alone, but you don't care. This is enough. You just need to feel something—need the proof that he's alive. That you're alive. That this IS real and not some drawn out hallucination your dying brain came up with between the span of one heartbeat and your last.

But it has to be real. Even in your darkest moments, alone in your cell, you never allowed yourself to want this—the thing you could not have. The galaxy had been cruel enough on its own without any assistance from you. So there were no images or dreams in your mind to conjure this from. Which means these messy kisses, the wet noise of your joining, your sweat slicked skin, his hair, salt-stiffened and curled between your fingers, must be real. It also means every moment of this is new and unburdened by expectation or comparison.

It's everything else that haunts you.

All too soon, and just as promised, his body grows tense, and he starts to tremble above you. Between your exhaustion and his unrelenting pace, this was never intended to last. And he's so close, but when he meets your eyes, you see hesitation. Uncertainty. When he moves to pull away, you realize he means to finish by stroking and spilling himself across your belly instead. But that isn't what you need.

“No! Don’t,” you beg. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you grasp at his neck and shoulders, unwilling to let him go with a strength that surprises you both. Then you roll your hips and grind yourself onto his cock, dragging a hiss out of him. “I want to feel you.”

He groans as he yields to your plea, too near that edge to argue, so he falls right back into a punishing rhythm. Yet underneath the hunger and determination, there's anguish now, too. As if by doing this, he remains afraid he'll break you somehow. Still, he clings to your hips as every thrust turns short and sharp with purpose until, at last, he buries himself fully and chases that relief in the depths of your cunt.

When he comes, the only sound he makes is a harsh sob. And then his cock is pulsing inside of you, filling you with warmth. Life.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He collapses heavily at your side with a few wet coughs, spent and too exhausted to hold himself up any longer. You lay there for a moment, listening to his ragged breathing, unsure of what comes next. You're afraid he’ll push you away once his mind clears. That he’ll go back to hating you from across the cave, now muggy with the scent of sex, as his come leaks down your thighs.

He doesn't.

Instead, he holds his arms open in silent invitation and you realize he's offering you a choice: move forward with or without him. And this time, you know he accepts that it's your decision to make. But you’ve already made this choice once, when you watched him slip beneath the waves. When you dove for him in the water, hauled him back out of it, and then forced it from his lungs. It was just as easy to make then. Maybe now he’ll understand what it means.

You go to him and curl against him in acceptance. He kisses the fragile skin of your temple, and then he helps you get settled by tucking your head under his chin and rubbing warmth in a soothing pattern along your stone chilled back. Your hand finds his waist. His leg entangles with yours. Back and forth until there's nothing but drying sweat between you, as if you have always fit together in this way.

You want to savor this. More than that, you want to have this if you can. If he’ll let you. If he doesn't go back to holding you at a distance out of habit and self-preservation in a day or so, always waiting for the worst to happen and scared of the hurt that might follow. As if anything could be worse than losing him now. Then he really would be the thing that broke you. A self fulfilling prophecy. You almost want to laugh at the irony.

All at once, the silence feels heavier than you can bear.

“Never again tell me you aren't worth it,” you whisper fiercely to the cave. “You are to me.”

He doesn't respond, but the hand splayed over your ribs twitches before clutching you tighter.

“We’ll try in the morning,” he says quietly instead. Under your ear, the compromise rumbles loudly throughout his chest. Beneath that, his steady heartbeat.

His statement doesn't fill you with anything as naive as hope. The Empire is still looking for you, and they aren't ever going to stop now. You’ve only traded imprisonment for the illusion of freedom. The thought claws at you, threatens to pull you under. But there's an arm around your shoulders that squeezes as it holds you close, and you remember that you can't let go. You can't lose him. You won't. You have to keep moving.

“In the morning,” you agree.

"Hey,” he said, half-asleep, “what were you before me?” “I think I was drowning.” A pause. “And what are you now?” he whispered, sinking. I thought for a second. “Water."

- Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

A/N: The song for this fic is Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish btw.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[muchmossymess]

you guys have no idea how much i think about the malice champions (the game calls them "hollows" and thats quite frankly terrifying)

[rhymaes]

Mysterious Lotus Casebook // Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

(continuation of x)

[beastimusprojects]

Chapter 16: Falling together

______________________________________________________________

            “He shouldn’t be alive, but he is. Thank goodness I caught him, but no one should be able to survive a drop from that height.” Hywel gradually came to as the woman standing over him spoke.

            “How am I still alive?”

            “Well, that’s what we were wondering, you got hit a bunch by the glowy lady with the wings, but somehow you killed her about three or four miles up and managed to survive the fall.”

            Hywel sat up, his head hurt, and the world was spinning a little, everything was really bright.

            Devil energy, it’ll wear off as you digest it.

            Oh, that explains it.

            “You’re also horribly emaciated, we got you some stuff to eat, you know, as a thank you for saving… well probably everyone.”

            Hywel realized that he had been moved and was now sitting on the deck of a large ship, but he was hungry, and so he asked no questions before accepting and slurping down the bowl of soup he was given.

            Another woman came up to him, he recognized her as the one Karol had attacked, she was absolutely covered in scars.

            “What did she do to you?”

            “Not much, don’t worry, I’ve had most of these for a long time. Though, I’d be a lot worse if you hadn’t come at that exact moment.”

            “Are you the one she told me about? Phoenix, I think she said?”

            “Yeah, that’s me.”

            “I’m sorry for what you went through, I should have realized that Karol was bad news earlier.”

            “If you don’t mind, can you explain what was going on there? You killed her somehow, no one could see, but she absolutely bodied the best of the hunters.” Phoenix pointed to where Orwen was still lying unconscious.

            “Demon. She had a Devil; I sucked the life right out of her.” Hywel hung his head between his knees.

            “Wow.” Phoenix was oblivious to Hywel’s shame, only in awe of his power. “Just think of what you can do with that kind of power.” She said, almost whispering.

            “But also, what you have to do to get it.” “It’s not worth becoming a monster.”

            “I don’t know, people usually leave monsters alone, if I had what you have…” she trailed off.

            “I should leave, thank you for your hospitality, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

            “You can’t, you saved the lives of literally half the people on this ship, you can stay for as long as you want.”

            “Well, but I have somewhere to be.”

            “Where are you going that can’t wait for you to rest for a few hours?”

            “Core, something bad is going to happen there, pretty soon.”

            “That’s where we’re going to, you can come with us, you need a ship anyway to get there in any reasonable time.” “Unless demons also give you super-fast speed.”

            “Are you sure, you don’t mind traveling with the vessel of a demon?”

            “You are still not the most dangerous person I’m traveling with.”

            “I severely doubt that.”

            “Well, like I said, that guy over there is the most skilled hunter alive, and he currently is on a mission to bring me back to Hunter headquarters.”

            “Wait, is that Orwen Desinor?” “Are you just randomly traveling with Orwen Desinor?”

            “Yeah, and the disgraced crown prince of Levias.”

            “”

            “Yeah, you coming with us really doesn’t add much danger factor to this.”

            “Ok, we’ll get to the Levias thing in a minute, but, why are you traveling with Orwen Desinor if he has a contract on you. I used to be a Seeker, that guy killed Scout! Scout, like it was nothing!”

            Phoenix shrugged “I suspect I am neither as dispassionate nor as tactically minded as I would like to believe.” “So, what do you say?”

            “Ok, I hope I do not live to regret this.”

            “Excellent, let’s give you a tour of the ship.”

______________________________________________________________

@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

@betanian117

This chapter is short

New post for the Phoenix Story:

Up to chapter 12:

CW for some Suicidal Ideation, General Angst, Mild Body horror, and as of now, one instance of the f-word.

Chapter 1: A Beautiful Night

______________________________________________________________

            Phoenix finally relaxed.

            As she watched the moon slide over the sun, she relished in the fact that she was now, truly, wonderfully alone. Alone, more than anyone else had probably been in a long, long time. There are, of course, ways to be alone not requiring physical distance, and ways of being together that overcome any distance. But it had been a decade since Phoenix had truly experienced togetherness in any of those ways, and the physical isolation was as absolute as she could imagine it. There was no one within 30 miles of where she sat, on an island that no one knew existed on the edge of where life in the sky had penetrated. No one could get there, the navigational skills required were immense and rare, even in such far-flung places as this.    

            By all rights, trying to get to Phoenix in that moment would be like trying to contact the spirits of the dead.

            It was good to be alone, for it was only in this isolation, which, she imagined, would be for some soul-crushing, that she was finally safe. For the first time in a long time, a decade, exactly in fact (she had felt her 17th birthday as she stepped onto the island,) she was safe. At that thought, a wave of, not happiness, but certainly peace washed over her.

            She knew it wouldn’t last, in two hours her first scar would twinge, and that would bring back memories of the worst time in her life. And she couldn’t sustain the aloneness, if only for purely practical reasons. But she would enjoy it for now.

            She looked up and saw that the moon had finished its arc, leaving only the corona of the sun visible. As the night songbirds started to sing, Phoenix went to find a place to sleep for the first night in a new chapter of her life.

            And what a beautiful night it would be.

______________________________________________________________

            It was of course a beautiful night, but Orwen didn’t see much of it, despite his perch on the roof of the headquarters of The Hunters. He did not admire the beauty of the stars or the reflection of the ring of fire in the lake, but rather stared into a handheld mirror, running a finger along his scar.

            The scar should have been a thing of beauty, it was a perfect Hunter’s Mark, a thin but bright slash from the inside of his left eye to the right corner of his mouth. By conventional wisdom, he should have been grateful, the mark was only supposed to fall on the greatest hunters.

            But to him, it only reminded him of his greatest failure. Six months tomorrow. Six months since he had fought the hardest fight of his life. Six months since the first time he thought he might die. Six months since he’d fought and killed the greatest of the Seekers, but that had not been what gave him the scar.

            He was the Nitehawk, the greatest hunter of all time, but a lowlife thief had not only beaten him, she’d marked him.

            “You mean nothing,” he told himself he was talking to the scar, “until I find her.”

            He was not there in the morning.

______________________________________________________________

            “Not so fast Dere! I can see you.”

            As the figure ran along the wall, Hywel knocked an arrow.

            “Not leaving on my watch!”

            He let the arrow fly. It didn’t strike the figure, but it didn’t need to, because Hywel quickly Stepped, and was up on the wall, arrow gripped in his right hand. His left was soon gripping the figure’s coat, which slowly shifted back into its more natural catlike form.

            “Would you believe I was just out for a walk? It’s a very nice night!” Dere exclaimed.

            “No, I don’t believe the words of demons, especially not ones who I catch escaping.” Dere was always unpleasant to deal with. “And now of all times we can’t afford to give you an inch. Not with Scout dead.” Their leader had been killed 6 months prior, and morale had been severely sapped since. The Seekers, and by extension the Alliance of the Sky, had been losing ground fast ever since. They’d already lost control of Nerestar and Dorsinli.

            Hywel wasn’t worried they’d lose the war anytime soon, but it didn’t look good for his chances of ever leaving this post.

As Hywel carried the wretched thing inside, it displayed an array of strategies to avoid its inevitable return to imprisonment. First it pretended to be cute and demure, then it scratched futilely at Hywel’s thick gloves, screaming obscenities that hadn’t been heard by mortal ears in centuries, then it whispered in his ears with that terrible voice, promises of power and wealth. Lies, of course, though, weighed against the prospect of spending the next decade on post guarding the creature, Hywel had to admit to being tempted.

______________________________________________________________ Chapter 2: A wonderful morning.

            Other than blackberries, the island seemed to be almost completely empty. It would be a lot of work to make the place habitable long term, and that would have to include several trips to somewhere habited. But a few trips to get some chickens and sheep and then Phoenix could probably stay here for a long time. Eventually, she would have to build a house, but she didn’t know where she’d get the materials for such a project.

            Its kind of ironic, I guess. To make my fortress of solitude, I have to go to people.

            I can wait a while though.

            She worked to clear a patch out from the blackberries – fire made quick work of the bushes – more so to distract herself than anything else. She didn’t want to think about… well anything really, because everything would eventually trail back to the fact that she had to go to town. Town, where she might encounter someone who knew her and if she found someone who knew her there, that was the only way she could die.

            Why do I always think about death?

            Its irrational, no one will be there, because no one knows I’m here, that’s why I came here in the first place.

            But in the back of her mind, a picture would not cease to form.

            I hate you, Karol. She thought as she clapped her hands, burning away another blackberry bush.

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen was known for being fast, but right now he was mostly just frustrated. He had tracked slippery prey before, but Phoenix Alkaryl was one of a kind. Six months of searching had seemed only to deepen her cover, and he could still only narrow her location to about a quarter of The Sky, a pitiful performance by any Hunter, let alone The Nitehawk.

            Doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will find her.

            He was pouring over a map (the mirror laid just north of Levias) as he sat on the 11:45 ferry from Nerestar and Dorsinli, a convenient service which, 6 months ago, he couldn’t have used. He was glad the Free Cities were winning the war, if for no other reason than it made his job easier. Phoenix couldn’t be anywhere in Alliance territory, ever since he had killed Scout of the Seekers, the Alliance had closed their borders to all travel, Phoenix was supposed to be a good navigator, but no one got past Alliance gusters.

            If she’s this far off the map, she probably wanted to disappear. So, she probably went outward.

As he left the boat, he caught a glimpse of something he’d never seen before in an alley. A tall woman, wearing golden chainmail, one side of her face, covered in burns, with three of her limbs replaced with prosthetics. Their eyes met, and she smiled with one half of her face. A Valkyrie, they were all supposed to be on the Levian front. He tried to walk quickly away, but as he turned a corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, you are the Nitehawk, yes? You’re looking for a girl named Phoenix, right? The one who gave you The Mark?”

“Indeed.”

“I know where to find her.”

______________________________________________________________

            Guarding Dere was hell, and Hywel had been booked for a full week of it. In a way, you could understand its plight, Hywel didn’t like to be cooped up either and Dere had been locked away for 150 years. But in every other way, well, the thing was pure evil. You could feel it, just standing near it, malice almost seemed to radiate off of the beast, and if you met its eyes, you saw nothing but two pools of absolute emptiness, not just nothing themselves, but threating to make you nothing as well. And its smile was dreadful, you knew it was happy with itself, and when you saw it smiling, you couldn’t even hate it, the hate would drain away before you could replenish it. All you could feel was nothing.

            And then there was its voice. It didn’t make any sound, you heard it in your head. It didn’t say anything of any consequence, but it seemed to know everything about you. Or sometimes it would say the most utterly outrageous things, but that was the trouble, after a while of hearing, you sometimes wouldn’t know the difference.

            It was evil. In its most concentrated and loathsome form. Precisely what the Seekers were out to eradicate. Or at least that’s what they said. In the last couple of years, they seemed to mostly be fighting in the war. Capturing and killing things like Dere was precisely what Hywel had signed up for. Though the job mostly consisted of long guarding of the one that had already been captured.

            Sometimes I hate this job.

            You know, if you’d be willing to make a deal, I could give you the power to do all the things you want. Just think of how much better the world could be if you had that power.

            I always hate you.

            It was going to be a long week.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 3: A Long Week.

______________________________________________________________

            Hyla really didn’t constitute a city. But it was enough. Big enough that she could buy chickens and sheep. Big enough that her nerves would never rest. She was only there for a few hours, but her heart pounded the entire time. Her nerves acted up around any large group of people, but they were worse this week than ever. She was constantly reminded by her scars. This week one decade prior had given her so many. A particularly large one panged on her chest as she arrived back on the island, she’d killed the bear, but not before taking a swipe.

            Desperate for distraction, she started planting vegetables, with any luck, she’d get some potatoes before winter hit. Then it wouldn’t be as bad as that first winter she’d weathered. She worked furiously, and the potatoes were all planted within an hour, she’d thought it would take till nightfall.

            Ok, we’ll start building shelter then.

            She dug out a pit, which she preceded to thatch over with blackberries, a task that, blessedly, took her the rest of the week. It was not a complete respite from her thoughts and memories, but it provided some comfort. It wasn’t ideal, but it was critically big enough for all three of her new sheep. They wouldn’t do well outside with how cold outer ring winters could get. Even with her magic, Phoenix had not relished the idea of spending a winter without shelter.

______________________________________________________________             I probably shouldn’t trust her. The Valkyries were a very secretive organization, not known for good faith offerings of assistance. But I can’t just let her go.

            “Where?”

            “The city of Asera.” Asera made as much sense as anywhere else, a Free City on the outer ring with enough people to disappear into, but not enough that you would definitely get caught.

            “Why do the Valkyries know that?”

            “Alkaryl is of special importance to us, whenever she is spotted, we’re the first to know.” A little suspect that the Valkyries have more of a stake than the Hunters, but all right.

            “And why tell me?”

            “You ask a lot of questions.” She raised her eyebrow.

            “Well, sorry if you don’t look like a particularly reliable source.”

            “It’s her time to die.”

            “Thank you for the information.” Orwen turned to go.

            “You misunderstand, I am to accompany you.” Fine by him, passing up the help of one of the most feared fighters in the Sky would only hurt his mission.

            “All right, we leave at once then.”

            She shook her head “I have a few matters to attend to beforehand. Meet me by the northern gate.”

            Orwen tried to dispel his suspicions about the Valkyrie. His instincts were usually right, but he hadn’t slept in a while, and her story made sense, he needed her help to find Phoenix. But something still just wouldn’t sit right. He’d have to tough it out, for the mission.

            Traveling with Sharon was not pleasant, she seemed to be all business, and was pushing Orwen to go faster, despite the fact that he was travelling with almost three times the normal weight. Her face apparently never moved, and she refused to engage in any conversation that wasn’t complaining about how long Orwen’s Speed took to recharge (despite the fact that they were on track to cover two thousand miles in a week.) But thankfully, Orwen’s suspicions subsided, though that might have been more because he was collapsing into bed at the end of each day.

            But, after all this time, he was finally moving forward with his mission.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel emerged from his Hell on the fifth day, after 4 sleepless nights in a row, facing two more, when respite finally came.

            “Hywel, you have been summoned to the Chamber.”

            “Thank you, and I’m sorry you have to deal with this thing now.” Hywel gestured to Dere fatalistically.

            “They’re coming with us.”

            “What?”

            The other seeker shrugged, unlocked the cage, and slipped Dere into some kind of collar “I don’t know, I was just told to get both of you.”

            Hywel was led to the doors of the Chamber and then was left with Dere’s leash.

            The doors into the Chamber felt especially heavy on Hywel’s tired hands as he pushed them open. He had been here many times before, but now of all times, it felt imposing. Dere’s whispers had not stopped.

            The Chamber was laden with the scent of old parchment paper and dead spells. It was deafeningly silent, except for a scribe scribbling minutes of the previous engagement, probably an execution, given the somber looks of the Council. They sat on a raised platform, overlooking the whole room, there were seven of them, and all of their choices were final.

“Hywel Sutherland. Seeker Honorable.”

            “I sir.” Hywel snapped to attention.

            “Do you know why you have been summoned?”

            “I was not informed, sir.” He looked up, the center councilmember was the one speaking, Garrel Satia, Killer of a Thousand foes. A garish title, but Hywel was in the presence of legends.

            “A great time has come upon us. For just yesterday a method has been discovered to eliminate the Demon of which you now hold the leash from this world.” Oh, this’ll be good, how do they think they’ll get rid of me this time… Dere’s voice echoed, Dere caught his eye, They try to do this at least once a year, don’t worry, it won’t work, but you might die anyway…

            As if to confirm the cat’s words, another councilmember spoke, Latise SeBorno. “And we are fortunate to have such a dedicated seeker as yourself at this time, for the ritual is not without sacrifice.”

             “You, Hywel Sutherland, Seeker Honorable, have been chosen for this purpose.” This is what they always do, sacrifice loyal subjects for a chance at killing the only thing they fear. By the way, my offer still stands, but this is one of your last times to take it. The last guy didn’t and they let the Nitehawk kill him.

            “What kind of sacrifice does the ritual entail?” Hywel asked.

            “If all goes well, it will leave you exhausted for days” Made up, killing a demon would drain anyone for years… “If the worst occurs, you may have to give your life.” You see?

            A third councilmember spoke up. “It is for this purpose that you have been tested, to prove your loyalty before we asked this of you.” You’ve been guarding my cell for five days, I thought they discovered it yesterday?

            “And what if I refuse?” In response to this question, all seven of them stood up.

            “THE COUNCIL HAS CHOSEN; ALL OF THEIR CHOICES ARE FINAL.”

            Is it too late yet Dere?

            Fortunately for you, it’s never too late to make a deal!

            Ok, I accept. His mind raced, but there was no time to think about this decision. Everything went black.

______________________________________________________________

            It opens its eyes.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter Four: A first eventful hour.

______________________________________________________________

            Two Levians were sitting at the bar. Phoenix studied them as she sipped on her drink, tea. She’d had to come into town to stock up on food, as winter had started early. Almost a month earlier than it should have. She’d been forced to come inside or be outside in a winter storm. So, she sat in the safest seat in the tavern, a lonely table with a view of the entire space and surveyed the Levians.

            She knew they were from Levias for a number of reasons. The first was that they were loud, she could listen to their conversation from across the room. The second was the woman’s jade earrings, unusual for this region. They had matching upper arm tattoos of a snake eating its own tail, which probably meant that they worked for the Levian government directly.

            These were highly unusual people to be here, but they didn’t seem like bounty hunters. If this hadn't been a very small town, she might have pegged them as tourists. They weren’t wearing rings, so probably not a married couple. They seemed like good friends though, which made Phoenix jealous, though she didn’t really think much of it. She took out her necklace, a piece of wood, polished so smooth that it could have been mistaken for a gemstone. It was a gift from her father, he’d given it to her after her sister died, he was already sick and said he didn’t think he’d last much longer. He died that night.

            “Hey, I really love your necklace.” Phoenix had drifted into her own thoughts and was stunned to see that the Levians had come over to her table. It was the girl who had given her the compliment.

            “Oh, oh, oh, umm, Thanks? I guess.” She stammered.

            “Sorry if I intruded, you were looking kind of sad, and then I saw that we have the same necklace.” The woman pulled out a necklace which was, in fact, almost identical to Phoenix’s.

            “Wow, uh, yeah, its cool.” Not to mention impossible, her father had never been to Levias. “How?”

            “What do you mean “how”?”

            “I mean, this necklace was given to me by my father, who had never been to Levias.”

            “Well, then he got it from someone else, because that’s the only place they’re made.”

            “Weird.”

            “You look like you have a lot of stories you could tell.” The large man commented.

            The woman shot him a look. “I’m sorry about Flynn, he means well but doesn’t understand social cues sometimes. We’ll leave you alone now.”

            “He’s not wrong, you can take a seat if you want.” She gestured to the empty chairs. “I’m Phoenix by the way.”

______________________________________________________________

            Sharon shook Orwen in the middle        of the night.

            He was awake.

            He was running.

He didn’t know what he was running from.

“Get down.”

They both dove.

He thought they had both dove.

His hands were tied behind his back.

            I probably shouldn’t trust her. Orwen’s own thoughts came back to him as he was struck on the head.

He woke up in a dark room, hands shackled to a wall.

            I failed.

            No, I cannot fail, I’ll escape this.

            These are Valkyries, there is no escaping this.

            I’m the freaking Nitehawk, I’ll find a way.

            His thoughts were muddled but quick, probably a concussion. He surveyed his surroundings as his eyes adjusted. He couldn’t make much out.

            Fuck this. He stomped at the ground angrily.

            The cell was small and cramped, with thick iron bars, the shackles were tight enough to cut into his wrists. No way to escape unless he was let out, no way they’d be stupid enough to do that.

            I will escape, I have to. He let out a scream of frustration. But this is going to set me so far back.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel woke up with a pounding headache and a feeling like dread. But not for the future, but for the past.

            Yeah, the first time does that to you. There’s water on the table behind you, drink all of it. You’ll die if you don’t drink and eat enough, and neither of us want that yet. Dere’s voice in his head. But all he could think about was water.

            He found the jug and downed the entire thing. But when he looked up, he took a step back in shock.

            The scene before him was horror.

            He could recognize the walls of the Seeker complex, but the buildings had been leveled. Everything had been stained pitch black, like the aftermath of a wildfire, though Hywel knew this had been much, much worse.

            And its my fault.

            His entire world started spinning. He felt dizzy. This was his choice. Everyone was dead. It was his fault. His whole life was gone. He chose this. He must have known the deal wouldn’t end well. Everything he stood for, gone in a moment.

            Am I the bad guy now?

            This one question consumed his entire world as he collapsed back onto the ground.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter Five: A second eventful hour.

______________________________________________________________

            The woman had introduced herself as Persephone, and the large man was Flynn. They had plenty of stories of their own to tell, apparently it had been a while since they’d left Levias, and they’d gotten in no small share of trouble since.

            “And then less than an hour after we get rid of the dragon, what do we see, but a pirate flag. Luckily, our ship has wards for cannon fire, but these are pirates with trained dragons we’re talking about.” Flynn was busily recounting the story.

            “So obviously, we just hightail it out of there, we actually used the wind jar we got from the cyclops incident here, because, come on, pirates with dragons.” Persephone interjected to finish the story.

            “Skull and crossbones with wings? On a background somewhere between yellow and green?” Phoenix thought she knew the pirates in question.

            “Exactly.”

            “Well then, that’ll be Jorge Redbeard. Kinda a nasty guy, I hear it’s not even his natural beard color. I got captured by them once, not for very long, but I did see around the ship.” Phoenix leaned in. “Dragon droppings absolutely everywhere.”

            “Hilarious.”

            There was a pause in the conversation, but Phoenix didn’t want to stop talking.

            “So, what actually brings you all this way from Levias?”

             They looked at each other awkwardly, as if sharing a secret conversation through just their eyes, before Persephone apparently decided this was information that could be divulged.

            “It’s complicated, but the short version is that Flynn is suffering from a terrible disease. We’re looking for a cure.” The levity drained from Persephone’s face as she said this.

            “Oh”

            Flynn waved a hand dismissively “Don’t worry about me, I won’t die… at least not soon, I just can’t go back until I’m cured.” He acted like it was the most reasonable reaction in the world.

            “Where are you going?”

            “It’s a small village, named Ser, there’s a healer there, supposed to be the best.” Persephone was apprehensive.

            “I know him, and he is the best.”

            “How?”

            “It used to be my home.”

______________________________________________________________

            It wasn’t long before someone came to get Orwen. She unlocked the shackles but kept her hand tight on his wrist. Pushing him roughly forward. He didn’t struggle, there wouldn’t be much point yet, he’d been trained for situations like this, he had to follow that training.

            He was led into a large room lit by torches, with a big round table in the middle, surrounded by Valkyries, he could recognize Sharon across the table from him. He was sat down into a chair, and his hands were locked into another set of shackles.

            “Good job people. We caught him.” The Valkyrie in charge spoke to the others. “The Nitehawk, right in our trap.”

            “You just gonna keep gloating?” Orwen was practiced in keeping a calm demeanor.

            “You’re in no position to talk, you fell for it.”

            “I mean, it was a good plan, and lucky timing, you wouldn’t normally be able to do that.”

            “You’re just bitter.”

            “Are you ever gonna tell me why I’m here?”

            The goal was annoyance was keeping the idea that he was completely trapped. This was, of course, not true, these shackles were much looser, he could dislocate his thumbs and slide them right off. But that wouldn’t do him much good right now, surrounded and unarmed, he had to buy time.

            “Why so impatient? It’s not like you’ve got anywhere to go.”

            Orwen smiled. “Actually, you are detaining me from an important mission for the Hunters.” The training was working, and he’d just found his way out, an outward facing window, thirty feet up, not ideal, but workable.

            “Well, if you must know.”

            Monologuing? His respect for the Valkyries was dwindling by the second. The woman in charge was describing gruesome torture methods, but she was putting the implements on the table, about 3 feet in front of him. She had better get fired for such a lapse in judgement. Not that anyone less skilled than Orwen would be able to escape. Then it happened. The guard change, all six subordinate Valkyries filed out of the room through the opposite door, the new ones coming in only a second afterward, but a second was all he needed.

            “I’m really embarrassed for you here.” Orwen said before using Perfection.

            Everything started to move in slow motion. Then his hands were free, then the lead Valkyrie was hit over the head with a large set of thumbscrews. Then he grabbed a spear and vaulted, landing on a ledge 10 feet up. Just 20 more to go, he’d practiced the next move many times. He dashed to the corner, and then using his Speed, ran up the wall, catching the edge of the window and pulling himself up and over onto the other side. He didn’t have any speed left, but he didn’t need it. There was a direct line of sight from here to a dock with a small gondola. He stopped using Perfection, he didn’t need it anymore.

            Clean escape, that’s what they’d trained him for.

            Hywel woke up a second time, but this time, he just stared at the sky.

            I can’t be. I spent my whole life dreaming of fighting… what I am now?

            You’ll destroy yourself thinking like that, believe me I know.

            So, what do I do.

            Distract yourself, anything, I recommend getting off this island and getting us some food.

            I can’t just distract myself from the revelation that I am now everything I know to be wrong.

            What do you think demons have been doing all this time?

            It wasn’t a bad point, so Hywel went looking for a boat, whatever he was gonna do, he needed to get off this island.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 6: Godspeed.

______________________________________________________________

            It was decided that Phoenix would accompany Persephone and Flynn to Ser. It was a dangerous choice, Persephone and Flynn were still not much better than strangers, but Phoenix didn’t think that she could let them leave without her, during their conversation, something had stirred within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, and now that she remembered it, it would be impossible to forget anytime soon.

            It was dumb, of course. She didn’t like it. She’d made the same mistake with Karol, and that had left her with a knife between her shoulder blades.

            But this felt different.

            Of course it did, this time she would take precautions. She wouldn’t let herself get too attached, and she’d remain ready to escape at a moment’s notice. She wouldn’t be trapped.

            Persephone and Flynn’s ship was massive, with three masts and several decks. The fact that they had been able to sail it with no extra crew meant that it almost certainly also had magic. It was truly a beautiful thing. And it was fast. Multiple times the top speed of Phoenix’s little gondola. They had enough space to pen up Phoenix’s animals, and within a day of the end of the storm, they had left for Ser, though, even with such a marvelous ship, traveling a hundred miles in outer ring winter would be nigh impossible without masterful navigation skills. Which was probably the only reason why she’d been invited along.

______________________________________________________________

            Three days and nights in a small gondola adrift in the clouds. Orwen preferred running to boating, but he was competent enough in an emergency, which this definitely constituted. Even though he’d escaped, he’d be hunted down if he wasn’t careful. That’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place, carelessness, he hadn’t followed his training, he’d been too focused on that one thing that he’d gotten sloppy. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. He needed to focus on everything all at once. He’d need to do this perfectly to have any chance at completing the mission.

            He finally arrived at his destination. He had no reason to believe that Phoenix was in Asera, but he did have a contact here that might be able to help. He’d been to Asera before, so he knew his way around, but between constantly checking to see if he was being followed and the fog that had been slowly encroaching on more and more of his waking hours due to lost hours of sleep, he missed turns constantly, and actually getting to his destination took him almost two hours.

            Three knocks on the door, pause, repeat, pause, repeat.

            The door was opened, and he was welcomed into a cozy little house with a fire roaring and a meal already cooking. He did not enter but stood in the doorway.

            “You look like absolute crap.”

            “Feel like it too.” Orwen longed to collapse into the guest bed, Bolson always kept it ready. “But I don’t have much time, I gotta get going soon.”

            “Chasing Phoenix still?” “You ought to stay and rest a little, you can’t bring her in in this condition.”

            “You forget who you’re talking to.”

            “All right, all right. You’re in luck, we just got word about her.”

            “Really, where?”

            “Our person trailing the crown prince of Levias saw her leave with them.”

            “So, she’ll be in Ser, and soon.” “That’s a ways away. I better get going. Thanks.”

            Orwen turned to leave.

            “Hey, remember not to run too fast, you’re gonna run yourself to death at this rate.”

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel had never been very good with boats, but he didn’t know where he was going anyway, so it didn’t matter that he went slowly.

            Where do I go?

            Big island, on the horizon, there’s houses, there’ll be food.

            I know, but after that where? I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

            Just focus on now, get food, eat it, then you can think about where to go next.

            Do you ever think about anything other than food?

            I think of lots of things that I want.

            Ok, but anything other than what you want right now?

            No, what else would I think about?

            I don’t know. The future, the past, the people around you and what they need. Right and wrong.

            That’s complicated. I prefer food.

            I guess that makes sense. What did the Seekers call you things? Holes in the universe.

            And the very manifestations of hunger and lust, yes, you get it, I eat, and then I go find other things to eat.

            Hywel would not be finding any answers to his problems from Dere, but of course, it wasn’t like he could keep his thoughts to himself, he didn’t know exactly what had happened, but Dere was somehow… a part of him now.

            That’s why you’re evil, I guess. You can’t really be anything else. Unsatisfiable hunger never really helped anyone.

            It helped you.

            At what cost though? Is it even worth it? Considering that my life cost that of others?

            This is why I focus on food. Anyway, we’re here.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 7: A Sight in the Distance.

______________________________________________________________

            Phoenix looked out from the crow’s nest of the ship across the sea of clouds. She didn’t have to be up here, it was a calm day, and the ship could essentially sail itself. She could have been down on the deck, where Persephone and Flynn were talking. She could be a part of that conversation.

            But she was anxious. She worried about whether this was really a good choice. Her instincts told her that getting too close to these people would end poorly. Like with Karol, and Seria. Her instincts had kept her alive this long.

            And yet…

            Another part of her longed to descend.

            Persephone looked up at the crow’s nest. Phoenix hadn’t come down in a while, she didn’t even think she’d gotten lunch. She was debating whether it would be better to bring her some food, or if she probably needed to be left alone.

            “You should go check on her.”

            “And have to climb all that way?”

            “You could always fly up, I really don’t understand the point of hiding that stuff from her, she seems trustworthy, it’s not like she’s gonna do anything bad to us.”

            “Remember that we’re taking precautions for you. You are way too important to risk like that.”

            “Ok, but we both know you’re gonna check on her. It’s your arms that have to haul you up there.”

            “You could probably throw me.”

            “Is that not more suspicious?”

            “I don’t know.” Persephone left to get some sandwiches.

            “You climbed all that way just to bring me sandwiches?”

            “Indeed, but mostly to check how you’re doing. You’ve been up here for a long time.”

            “Yeah.”

            Phoenix picked up a sandwich off the plate and started eating.

            “You like being alone?”

            “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

            “Then it’s probably just comfortable. You’ve been alone for a long time.”

            “Definitely that.” She took another bite.

            “And going back to Ser is dredging some stuff up.”

            “Going back to your home does that.”

            “It’s not my home, hasn’t been for a long time.”

            “I hear that. I could say the same for where I was born.” Persephone stared wistfully “I assume there’s no family waiting for you?”

            Phoenix shook her head. “I’ve been an orphan since I was 6.” “These sandwiches are really good.”

            Persephone could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. “Thanks, I make my own mustard.”

            Phoenix saw the island of Ser in the distance.

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen ran.

            The path he was taking had been built recently, to help move supplies for the war effort. Warpaths were always good for him; they took away the requirement for ferries.

            He was using every once of Speed he got, and walking in between uses. This wasn’t the healthiest way to do it, but it was the fastest. He could rest when he’d found her.

            He slept as little as possible. He needed regular sleep, or his Speed wouldn’t work, but he had to keep going. He was so close he could taste it. Several times he’d thought he’d seen Valkyries in the bushes. He didn’t know if he’d know if they were real.

            He was so tired.

            But he had to keep running.

            Run.

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

            Run.

            Run.

            Run.

            Fight.

            They were on him.

            He stabbed.

            They died; he’d hit his mark.

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. He must have eaten every last crumb they had to offer.

            I guess having a demon inside you probably does that. Ok, I ate, now what do I do?

            Probably sleep.

            You’re no help.

            Hey, I just say what I’m feeling.

            Hywel just started walking. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d know it when he found it.

            Possession seemed to have its merits. Even though he was constantly hungry and sleepy, he didn’t seem to need food or sleep to survive, or at least, he was able to walk without stopping or sleeping for 5 days straight, so that seemed to be the takeaway.

            He finally stopped only when he saw it. The front line of the war. A burning mass of shattered, quickly constructed defenses. They had recently lost a battle. He didn’t know which side they were, and though he might have cared sometime earlier in his life, he couldn’t care less now. All he saw were the dragons.

            You aren’t supposed to use dragons as weapons. In captivity they’re killing machines, and if they get loose, they cause immense amounts of damage, indiscriminately, but in the wild they are gentle giants, and rarely have negative encounters with anything other than sheep.

            The fact that there was a village this close to the front line was a tragedy enough. But there was a village, and dragons. Hywel had no more thoughts.

            It took seconds, or it seemed like seconds, for Hywel to get between the village and the dragons. He had climbed onto the tallest building in town. And he had his bow at the ready already. As soon as the closest beast was within range, the arrow fired, and then Hywel was on the dragon’s back. He didn’t know what he was doing, the power seemed to flow from instinct, not thought, the beast’s throat was torn out and he had leaped to another one.

            It was less than a minute before he landed, standing on top of the last dragon’s corpse, in the center of the village. The villagers didn’t cheer. They had been saved. But not by a hero, but by what was, to the vision of everyone, a monster.

______________________________________________________________

            It stirs in its nest, looking out over the city.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 8: Continuance.

______________________________________________________________

            Ser was not like Phoenix remembered. It was a warzone; a battle had broken out recently nearby. Keeping track of the front lines was an impossible task these days. Phoenix hesitated, Flynn and Persephone did not.

            They were immediately in the streets, telling people to get out, to go to their ship if there was nowhere else. Several houses had been hit by projectiles from the battle. Flynn quickly went to work getting people out of them.

            The Firethrower. That’s why the battle was here. Most towns didn’t have one, sole control over one made it almost impossible to attack you, but this town had little value outside of it. Phoenix was running, through the town, through the crowds of people. It was the major threat to the city, but it could be easily neutralized. Until she got to the battle scene.

            This is insane. That didn’t stop her. She threw herself into the mass of soldiers. She was adept at moving through crowds, and she wasn’t wearing the colors that would indicate to either side that she was an enemy. So, it didn’t take her nearly as long as it should have. She didn’t know why she was doing it. She wouldn’t normally risk herself like that. But there wasn’t time to think about that right now.

            The weapon was made of wood, it was trivial to set it alight with her power, though, given its size, it took a while to really start burning. She was outside the crowd of combatants before they started to realize what had happened. Both sides of the battle started retreating quickly, but as she looked back she saw sizeable groups of soldiers peeling off to follow her.

            Drat. She sprinted away as hard as she could. Some of them had horses, she wouldn’t be able to outrun them, but maybe she could get back to the ship before they thought to cut her off. The town looked to have been evacuated successfully. There was a throng of people on the dock. And Flynn and Persephone were… running toward her?

            “What are you doing?”

            “Coming to help you!” Flynn roared.

            “If you didn’t notice, there’s a full army, get to the ship.”

            “We can’t lead them that way, there’s innocent bystanders.” Persephone said.

            “We can’t exactly fight here.”

            “Watch us.”

            Phoenix stopped as she got to them and turned around to face the oncoming army. It was a hundred to three.

            “You’re gonna like this one.” Persephone smiled as she threw off her cloak, revealing a pair of sparkling butterfly wings, which started to flap, as she shrunk within seconds to the size of a squirrel.

            She flew straight towards the oncoming throng, reaching a fast speed before – Phoenix couldn’t believe her eyes – she grew not only to her original size, but fifteen times the size. Digging large furrows into the ground where she landed, and probably more importantly, scaring the horses, and some of the people too.

            “That buys us some time.” Flynn was right. They were chaos now. But it wasn’t over, as a few dozen foot soldiers were still running towards them. “It’s big and flashy, but she can’t maintain that size for very long, she expends enough of her power just staying human sized all the time.” “I don’t suppose you are good at one versus many fighting?”

            “Not really, requires touch.” She held up her hands to indicate she was talking about her powers.

            “Ah, well. I’m sure Persephone will understand that this was necessary. Probably be able to scare these guys off pretty easily.” He turned towards the oncoming soldiers; they were only about 60 cubits away now. He looked towards the sky, and his body started to change.

            Phoenix knew what they were trying to cure now. Ursanthropy.

            Faced with a twelve-foot tall werebear, the soldiers turned tail.

            That was intense. That was insane. Why did I do that?

            Persephone and Flynn were returning to their normal selves as they walked back.

            They didn’t hesitate. I guess I was just following them.

______________________________________________________________

            There was a point that Orwen got to where he couldn’t feel exhaustion anymore. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. All that was left was determination. He was so close, within mere hours, his mission would be complete.

            There was nothing left to think about but what he would do when he finally saw her face. As he sat eating his dinner – the last dinner before he got to her – he looked into his little mirror (for some reason the Valkyries hadn’t taken it.)

            Soon, it’ll all be worth it.

            He thought of what he’d say to her. What would be a suitable ending line for this, the greatest chase of his life.

            Phoenix Alkaryl, fleet of foot and strong of spirit. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk, master hunter. You have fled me for too long, but now it is time for this to come to an end.

            He pressed forward, less than a mile left to go.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ate and killed. It was all he could bring himself to do. There was a lot to kill in this part of The Sky, word of him quickly spread, he left quite the impression on those who saw him. He came to understand that people thought of him like a monster, that was how he saw himself, but they knew that if they pointed him in the direction of something evil, he would kill it, it was the only way he clung to the semblance of sanity he had left. He was able to convince himself that even if he was a monster, he could make himself a useful one.

            And Dere was happy to oblige this behavior.

            He caught a reflection of himself in a pool of water. A sunken face, despite all of the food he gorged himself on, he was emaciated. He was taller than he had been (now almost seven feet), but horribly thin, his skin (grey, or purple, or red, or yellow depending on where you looked) hung off of him in most places, as if it was made for a much larger man. His joints hung loose, constantly either horribly stiff or horrifyingly flexible.

            It reminded him of why he was doing what he was doing. He wanted to die, but he couldn't justify doing it in any other way. And so he ripped and tore through the other monsters in these islands, he didn’t know where he was anymore, but he didn’t care.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 9: Face to Face.

______________________________________________________________

            Qualos wasn’t there. He had died months before, not from the war, but of consumption, the same thing that had killed Phoenix’s father and sister years before. There had been an outbreak, leading to the deaths of dozens of people. There wasn’t anyone left who cared about Phoenix’s exile. Which should have been a relief, it was convenient for her. But she couldn’t be happy about death.

            The damage from the battle wasn’t huge, all things considered, only a few people were injured, and the people who lived in the destroyed houses found other places to stay, at least for the time being. But there was quite a bit to do, and it was almost an hour after the fighting had stopped before Flynn and Persephone approached Phoenix again.

            “So, I’m guessing you have questions?”

            “Not really, I think the fact that you’re a fairy with growth powers and Flynn is a Werebear is evident enough.”

            “That’s not exactly it though.”

            “Hmm.”

            “Flynn is also the crown prince of Levias.”

            “Nice.” Phoenix smiled. She wasn’t especially surprised, the giant fairy thing had kind of prepared her for anything. “Ok, so we got a disgraced prince in exile until he can find a cure for his Ursanthropy, and his guardian slash best friend, the two-inch-tall fairy who pretends to be a human but can also be the size of a giant. Anything else?”

            “That’s essentially it.” “None of that is surprising you?”

            “I’ve had a weird life. Traveling thief isn’t a career for the faint of heart. And honestly, that’s a pretty logical explanation for two Levians with a massive, fancy ship traveling alone to a tiny village at the edge of The Sky.”

            “So where do we go now?” Flynn asked. “I mean, this is a dead end.”

            “For a cure for Ursanthropy?” “The only other possibility is Core.” “That’s a long way though. We need to leave as soon as possible.” Phoenix started towards the ship, she didn’t really want to spend any more time here than necessary, there was no closure here anymore to the pain this town had caused her.

            “Is there nothing else you want to do while we’re here?” Persephone asked.

            “Nope, I told you, this used to be my home.”

            “Well, we can’t leave just now, we have to buy some supplies if we’re going on that long of a trip.”

            Phoenix settled on wandering around the town for a few hours, she’d be couped inside the ship for long enough soon.

______________________________________________________________

            She was right there. He could see her. The journey was over, there was only one thing left for Orwen to do.

            “Phoenix Alkaryl, strong spirited and fleet of foot. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk. You have fled for a long time, but it is time for this to end. Have you any final words?”

            “Orwen! Nice to see you! It’s been a while.” Phoenix turned around. “Nice speech. A few comments. First, my name is Alkaryl, it’s Liventis, Alkaryl was my mother, though you Hunters probably only have us under her name from the military records. Second, you will not be capturing me today.” She held her dagger close. This would be a hard fight. But he would be attempting to take her in alive, which she knew wasn’t his specialty. She clapped her hands as she said “Ok, let’s do this.”

            This was a distraction tactic, intimidation like this was a Hunter thing. He ignored her and started channeling Perfection he was low on both of his powers, he needed to get this over quickly. And he only had one knife, so throwing was out. He closed the distance quickly, ducking under her first attack and jabbing into her stomach, before dashing back out of reach.

            She was clutching her side where he had stabbed her, but also… smiling? “You’ll have to do better than stabbing old wounds.” Indeed, as she took her hand away from her side, she revealed a charred hole in her shirt, and underneath a large amount of old scar tissue, and the newly cauterized wound.

            He dashed back in, he couldn’t sustain Speed or Perfection much longer, he needed to end this now. Her knife was red hot as she took a swing at him. A torso strike wouldn’t do much to her, she was apparently practiced fighting through the pain, maybe if he hit her wrists? He ran out of Speed, he should have saved some up, but he had been in a hurry. He was still able to perfectly parry the knife, knocking it out of her hands. He turned to strike at her body again as he saw his fatal mistake, with no speed left to dodge it. He’d been focused on the knife; he hadn’t looked at her other hand. It landed on his shoulder, red hot. He blacked out from the pain, he barely had time to scream.

            He had failed.

______________________________________________________________

            Dere saw fear. Hywel saw justification. Or at least a route to it. It was a horrifying scene. Thankfully Hywel knew it wasn’t happening, yet this was the future.

            People screamed. The streets ran red with blood. Hywel didn’t know what was going to cause it, but he thought Dere did. It didn’t matter, he knew he could stop it.

            A beast lingered over the bodies of the people it had slain, licking its lips. Hywel almost cheered. This was what he was looking for. If he was to be a monster, if all that he would be able to do was kill, he could kill this thing, he got the sense that it was the biggest monster of all.

            It cannot be killed. Dere’s voice was panicked. Do not look for it, you will die.

            I think that’s the goal.

            No, you cannot kill this, it is not some small beast. Even we fear it.

            Well, if demons fear it, then it must be evil. Maybe I can find the justification I’m looking for.

            Do you know what happens to me if you die?

            You’ve been fine with it until now.

            Only because you haven’t been after things that I couldn’t beat. That’s no dragon, that’s… IT.

            Well, we better find a way to kill it. Because I’m doing it either way.

            Hywel saw where it would happen, Core. And then he thought he saw It look right at him.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 10:

______________________________________________________________

            “We can’t really do anything else except wait for him to wake up.” Persephone had treated Orwen’s burn. It wouldn’t heal completely, Phoenix had only touched him for a second, but the heat had immediately caused a bright white handprint to form, and parts were brown or almost black. “It’s a pretty bad burn, and I think that he was already pretty exhausted, but he should survive.”

            “How long until we’re able to leave?”

            Persephone knew what Phoenix meant; she didn’t want to be here when Orwen woke up. “I don’t want to leave him here; this town doesn’t have anyone trained enough to treat him.” “If that gets infected, and no one is here to help him, he’ll die.” “And quick or not, he can’t get himself to the next town.”

            Phoenix understood that Persephone didn’t want to be responsible for his death, Phoenix didn’t want to either, especially not in this town, but still... “So, we just take him with us?” “Did you forget he tried to kill me?”

            “Yeah, if we’re going to go, we should take him.“ Persephone looked over at where Flynn was “and we need to leave.” She looked at Phoenix “look, I get that you don’t want to travel with him, maybe this is where we leave you.”

            Phoenix balked at that, but she didn’t know why. Yeah, that was the most logical answer. But, for some reason…

            She shook her head “no, you need me if you’re going to navigate all the way to Core.” She was fighting to stay with these people? She’d fought long and hard to get to where she was, she’d gotten paid already, she should just let them go and go back to her little island. Was she really going to choose traveling with the assassin that had hunted her for months.

            Yes, yes, she was. “Look, so long as he’s injured, I don’t think he poses much of a threat. As soon as he can walk though, we drop him off.”

            “Absolutely. And we can keep him in a locked room too.” Persephone smiled; she was glad Phoenix wanted to stay with them. “Hey Flynn, come over here, help me get this guy loaded up so we can leave.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen didn’t wake up for almost a day, when he did, he was on his stomach on a large, soft bed in the belly of a rocking ship. His entire back ached, but the pain was by far the worst on his left upper back. He tried to get out of bed, but twisting his body only made it much worse.

            “I wouldn’t try that” Persephone brought in some food. “your left shoulder sustained some nasty burns.” “We definitely need to keep you in bed for at least a few days.”

            “Who are you? Also, where am I?”

            “Oh, yeah, that. Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave you in a town with no doctors with that kind of burn. But we really needed to get going. So, we brought you on board.” “I’m Persephone by the way.”

            “Do you know where Phoenix went?”

            “She’s here too. But I wouldn’t try anything.”

            “She’s here!? Why would you let me travel with her?” Orwen was ecstatic, though confused, maybe he hadn’t failed after all.

            “The other option was to essentially leave you for dead. No one wanted that.”

            Kinda stupid, I would have left her for dead in a heartbeat. But I probably need to pretend to play along for now.

            “All right, I assume I’m at least locked in this room though?”

            “And your daggers are locked up in a closet on the other side of the ship, yeah, we weren’t gonna take that chance.”

            Persephone left, and Orwen started eating his food, he’d be coming up with some sort of plan to complete the mission, but for now, he needed to sleep, his back was killing him.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel finished climbing the hill. Core was a long way away, so he’d need to pace himself. He’d made good progress; he’d walked nearly 40 miles over the last couple of days. Though, at some point he would have to find a way to increase the pace, he’d probably need to get a ship, he had a sense that what he’d seen would happen in a matter of months, and he needed to travel a lot.

            As he knelt beside the pond, he scooped up some water to drink, he hadn’t had a sip in weeks, he didn’t need it. And he looked at his reflection.

            It was, better, or at least, less bad. The color was starting to return to parts of his face, and the bags under his eyes had shrunk significantly, he’d slept for the first time in a while. His increased height had not diminished, he still stood almost seven feet tall, compared to his natural 5 foot 4, but he looked significantly less emaciated.

            What has happened to me? Is it really newfound purpose, or am I just getting used to being a monster?

            Dere remained silent, he suspected he was being given a form of cold shoulder for his choice.

            He was still drenched in blood, so he used this opportunity to bathe. His clothes were mostly ruined, and none of them fit well anymore.

            I need to get new ones; I’ll need to be some manner of presentable if I expect to be able to get a ride to Core.

            His hair had grown ragged, it was long, but it had been falling out in tufts. He was surprised to see that he still he still had his dagger. He cut as much of the hair off as he could, better bald than patchy. He left his beard.

            Wait, that’s odd, I couldn’t grow one before.

            Sometimes that happens. Dere spoke up for the first time in a while. If your hair comes back, it might come back curly too. Possession does weird things to human bodies.

            Oh, I hear you’re speaking up again.

            Just here to remind you that if you are doing hygiene, you should trim your nails, they look like claws.

            Indeed, they did.

            You deciding to be helpful all of a sudden?

            Maybe if we get you back in civilized society, I can convince you not to kill yourself.

            Not a chance. Hywel smiled as he scrubbed the blood from beneath his fingernails, the first time in at least two months that he had smiled. But I appreciate the sentiment.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 11: A long trip

______________________________________________________________

            Phoenix sat on the deck, this area of the sky was calm, which meant slow going, but also not a lot to do as a navigator, so she was sharpening her knife.

            “It’s a beautiful thing, glad to see you’re keeping it in good shape.” Flynn sat down beside her.

            “It’s broken, it used to be able to fold, it also used to have a wooden handle.” Repetitive heat had fused the tang and the blade together, she’d had to weld additional metal onto it several times to keep it usable, the handle had now been shaped to almost exactly fit her hand.

            “Put another way, it’s been shaped into exactly the right shape for its use.” “Weapons designed for magic have to be unique, that’s what makes them beautiful.”

            “Every time I use it in battle, I have fix it up again, otherwise the blade warps.”

            Flynn nodded “yeah, it’s a lot of work to hone after every fight, but what you get in return is a perfectly natural tool. I’ve seen how you fight; you use that knife like an animal uses claws, I would know.” He balled his hands up into fists.

            “How does it feel?” Phoenix asked.

            “Being a Werebear?”

            “Yeah, that”

            “It’s not bad. It’s never been the being so much as the being seen as that’s the problem.” “When I actually transform, all I feel is the power of it, like I can do anything I want to.” “That’s kind of the worst part too, is coming out of it, and not feeling that anymore.”

            “Feeling like you can’t actually change anything that matters.”

            “Yeah, that”

            “And then comes the fear, that you’ll be trapped, and something bad will happen to you.”

            “I don’t know about that; I’ve been living on borrowed time for a while. It’s more so feeling that I’m trapping her.”

            “Persephone?”

            “Yeah, she cares a lot, and she’s determined that I have to survive.”

            “You won’t die though.”

            “Not from ursanthropy directly, no, but my father, as much as he pretends. Well, we think he’s the one sending people after us. We talk a big game, but we barely survived the last attack, I don’t think we, I, make it all the way to Core.”

            “He would do that?” Phoenix was astounded.

            “He was willing to when we were back in Levias, said he ‘couldn’t allow exceptions to the rule of law’, even for his own son.” “I think he’s always seen me as less than my brothers, might have just been looking for an excuse.”

            “I can’t even imagine that.”

            Flynn smiled, trying to cut the gloominess of the conversation “don’t feel too bad, at least I got to grow up as a prince.”

            “I mean, that doesn’t make any of that less tragic…”

            “I don’t care that much, I’ve just kinda dealt with it.”

            “That doesn’t work.”

            Flynn raised an eyebrow.

            “Running from your feelings I mean.” “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

            “I wouldn’t call it that… I’ve just got, thick skin, that’s it.” “It doesn’t get to me.”

            “Must be nice.”

            “You’ve been running though?”

            “Until it catches up with me.”

            “And then you fight like a cornered animal.”

            “That’s one way to say it.”

            “Like, not trying to kill it, just make it go away.”

            “I don’t like killing.”

            Flynn nodded. “Does anyone really like it?”

            “The last time I killed I broke my dagger.”

            “That must be a good story.”

            Phoenix looked at him seriously, “it was a bear, it almost killed me, gave me this” she pulled her sleeve up to reveal a nasty bite mark on her shoulder “but I killed it. I don’t like killing, so I haven’t killed since, I just run, and when I’m cornered.” “Well, if you don’t want to kill, you have to learn to inflict pain instead.”

            “A lot of it.”

            “Yeah, that.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen lay in bed. The room had no windows, which, on a boat this fancy looking, probably meant it was toward the bottom. The walls were likely to sturdy to have a hope of breaking through, and there was no access to the door lock from this side, so picking wasn’t going to be an option. The only way he would be able to break out would be to jump Persephone when he brought him his food. If he did that, he could probably escape, assuming they didn’t have someone watching for him immediately outside the door.

            His wound had healed considerably since he had come aboard the ship, but he strictly speaking still needed more rest. This, combined with his reluctance to assault Persephone, she seemed like such a nice person, led him to conclude that his best chance for completing the mission lay in a more, diplomatic approach. Gain their trust, lead them as close to Hunter headquarters as possible, and then bring Phoenix in at the last possible minute. He probably also wanted to save as much Speed and Perfection as possible. That meant sleep and food, easy enough, whoever was cooking the food was an amazing chef.

            “I hope you’re hungry” Persephone walked in, talking in the sweet, almost sing-song tone she usually used with him, “we’ve got something delicious today, Phoenix made Borscht, I hear it’s a family recipe.”

            “Does Phoenix normally cook? I’ve been wondering who it was.”

            “Ever since we found out she’s absolutely amazing at it, we’ve refused to even touch a pot.”

            After he tasted the soup, wonderfully meaty, he said “probably the right call.”

            “From what I can tell, she just appreciates having this full of a set of ingredients.” “How’s your shoulder?”

            “Much better, thank you. It’s been feeling better every day.”

            “Well,” she turned to leave “let me know if you need anything else.”

            “Hey, Persephone”

            “Yes?”

            “Seriously, thanks for doing this for me, most people I know wouldn’t.”

            She walked away smiling. Exactly what Orwen needed.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ran now. He had avoided crossing the war line before, but he could no longer. But the borders were closed, so there wasn’t an easy way to get across. And what was more troubling was that he had alerted seekers to his location. They had been tracking him down, whatever remnant of the Seekers was left apparently had capturing him as their first priority.

            So, he was running, both from half a dozen trained Seekers and a large contingent of soldiers, who had at least a few boats. Thankfully, the wind was low today, so the boats couldn’t outrun his enhanced speed. He would have been captured ages ago if not for a confluence of lucky factors. He would almost definitely be captured soon, he knew where he was, and he had studied this area, Seekers were required to know the general layout of all the land around the war line. This road was old and would run out in less than a mile.

            He didn’t want to have to fight them. They didn’t stand a chance, with Dere’s help he could probably have plowed through the entire alliance army, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid killing them, enough people had died needlessly because of him already.

            So, he’d have to figure out a way to escape.

            There’s the end of the road. Nothing within a thousand feet.

            Two thousand feet out, there’s a rock, with a running start I can get you most of the way, and then shoot an arrow.

            If I’m even a little short though…

            You could always turn around and fight!

            No.

            He stopped about a dozen feet short of the edge, turned around and surveyed the oncoming army, and then he looked over the edge, nothing. If he fell, he would be falling forever.

            I wouldn’t take that risk if I were you, you have choices here. Instead of throwing yourself over the possible suicide gap, you could stand and fight or let yourself get captured and break out later.

            Hywel took a deep breath. No, if I want to believe I can be redeemed, there is no choice.

            He backed up and took a running start. With Dere’s power, he launched himself across 100 feet, 500 feet, 1000, 1500, he just had to shoot this arrow 250 feet, not the easiest, but he could do it.

            He knocked the arrow, drew, and shot. It raced toward that solitary rock…

            And missed.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 12: Impossibilities

______________________________________________________________

            The wind had picked up, it was howlingly fast, the middle ring was known for wild changes in weather, but this was stronger than Phoenix had seen in a long time.

            “If this keeps up, we’ll be in Dorsinli this afternoon.” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

            “Really? It feels like we just left Nerestar.” Flynn shouted back. It had taken three weeks to get from Ser to Nerestar, but only four days to get to where they were. “We’re making good time!”

            “Remember that the distance from the middle ring to the inner ring is longer, and from the inner ring to Core, that’s going the feel interminable.”

            “That’s not what the map shows.”

            “I forget that you haven’t been farther in than the capital of Levias.” “Let me finish tying this up then I’ll come down and explain it.” The sail needed to be secured better, she finished tying the knot and then quickly climbed down the netting.

            “Ok, so this is weird for people who were born on the Outer Ring, like us, but I forget that they don’t teach it in Levias, given that it only has territory in the Outer Ring.” “As you get closer to the middle of the map, it gets less accurate.”

            “Couldn’t they just draw the map better.”

            “No, see, there is no actual middle of the Sky. The radius is infinite.”

            “How does that work?”

            “No one really knows, but if you walk towards where the middle would be, you just find more sky. So, as you get closer to the middle, the map can’t be drawn right, because the circumferences of concentric circles still decrease.”

            “That’s not geometrically possible” Flynn looked at Phoenix with a side eye.

            “Thus, why the map doesn’t show it. But anyway, what it means is that each ring is significantly smaller around than the outer ones but the chords across them are increasingly long with respect to their circumferences.”

            “Wait, wouldn’t that mean that they get to the point where its quicker to go around the circle than across it.” Flynn looked fully confused.

            “Indeed, it depends on how far in the middle ring, but in the inner ring, every two points can be reached in less distance by a circular path than a straight one through the inside.”

            “Hey Persephone, have you heard this before?” She’d just gotten back from taking Orwen his food.

            “What is it?”

            “I was just explaining hyperbolic space to Flynn here.”

            Persephone’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I’m so glad I don’t have to navigate anymore.”

            “Yeah, it only gets worse as you get further in, but it’s that or stay here with the bad weather.” Phoenix had learned the hard way, navigating by yourself out of even the middle ring was insanity.

            “Hey Phoenix, Orwen wanted to say something to you.” “I told him you probably wouldn’t come.”

            “Can I have Flynn outside the door?”

            “Sure, I’ll stand guard.”

            “Then there’s not much to worry about.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen was surprised to see Phoenix come in.

            “You came?”

            “Yeah, there’s not much reason not to. I don’t have a lot else to do today.”

            “I just wanted to say”

            “You’ll say you’re sorry, I honestly don’t believe you. And it’s ok by the way. For you to hate me. I’d rather be on a ship with a thousand people who hate me openly than one who pretends to like me.”

            Orwen opened his mouth to speak, but Phoenix raised a hand. “And don’t say it was only professional, we both know that’s not true; no one runs themselves that ragged for a job.”

            I do sometimes Orwen thought probably too often, but there was no point in trying to convince Phoenix that he was, merely, following orders. “You’re right, it was personal.” “Still is. You have to know I still want to take you in.”

            “Yeah, I figured that.”

            “So, why’d you agree to travel with me.”

            “It’s my principal flaw. I get too attached to people, I can’t leave.” She shrugged “They betray me, or they leave.” She said it in a nonchalant tone. “That’s why I have so many of these.”

            “You know I could kill you right now if I wanted.”

            “Oh, believe me, I know. But I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have come if I thought there were a chance of that.” “You have to take me in alive.”

            He did indeed.

            “Not that alive.”

            Phoenix chuckled at that one. “Hey, can you walk yet? I wanna show around the ship.”

            “Now why would you do such a thing? I just threatened to kill you.”

            “Oh, you’re so serious about the whole assassin thing. Its gonna grind your gears so hard to know you can’t bring me in yet.”

            That much was true, it frustrated him to no end, but he wanted a distraction, and this sort of played into his plan. Though, what Phoenix had said about people betraying her got to him a bit. Just a bit. “Yeah, I can walk, let’s see it.”

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel was only falling for a minute, but it felt like an eternity, by the time he realized that the first arrow had missed, he had no time to shoot another.

            Well, this is how it ends, I guess. At least I’m taking you down with me.

            He must have been almost a mile below the island when he felt a firm grip on the back of his shirt.

            “Well, thank goodness, you’re a lot lighter than you look.”

            He looked up, astonished to see a woman with two giant feathered wings sprouting from her back. She could only be described as radiant, quite literally seeming to glow, as if something within her could not be contained, and was struggling to be free.

            She managed to drag him all the way up to the rock he had been aiming for. They could see the soldiers gathering at the end of the path.

            “Ah, don’t worry about them, we’re almost past the border already, they won’t chase us any farther.” “I’m Karol by the way.”

            “Hywel” “How, how did you find me?”

            “If you didn’t notice, everyone on this side of the Sky has been following you for almost a month. I’ve been tailing you for a while, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like taking a plunge into the Void.”      “Hey, I’d love to chat later, but we need to get going, they won’t follow us across the border, but we have about 1000 feet left.”

            They traveled a pretty good distance, the rocks were close enough now that Hywel could jump between them.

            “Sorry if this is offensive” Hywel started talking almost as soon as they had stopped “but what’s with the wings?”

            “A recent thing, possession works weirdly.”

            “Wait, you have a demon too?”

            She raised an eyebrow “you don’t know much about how this stuff, do you?”

            “Not a demon, then?”

            She shook her head “no, demons are spirits of emptiness. Mine is a devil, a spirit of fullness, of bursting and limitless possibility.”

            You’ve been awfully silent about this whole affair Dere.

            Demons and Devils don’t mix. We kill each other.

            “That seems infinitely preferable to mine.”

            “Oh, it is, I wouldn’t have hunted down a demon.”

            “You mean, you actually wanted to be possessed?”

            “It’s a marvelous power, I wanted to be strong, so I could help people, I failed before.” “I think you’re the same, we both want to cleanse the world of its evil. That’s why I followed you.”

______________________________________________________________

@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

I fixed a few things. Its almost 13 thousand words now, by far the longest thing I've ever written, and getting close to the halfway point plot-wise, which means that technically this will probably end up at Novella length (Its already 30 pages in the Word document I'm writing in).

Actually, I'm gonna tag some of my other mutuals as well, I won't tag you again though unless you want to...

@queenpiranhadon

@nervousscissorsgoopthing

@betanian117

@justalunaticfangirl

@shrxe

[j-esbian]

thinking abt how much of my life i’ve lost to depression and i truly want to throw up

[toytulini]

it is baffling to me that ppl keep insisting "if its not sprite then what IS it tho?" and seemingly do not...retain the recipes that are being shared. like you dont have to memorize them its just repeatedly "is lemonade not sprite though? how is it not sprite?"

"its lemon juice, water, and sugar"

"is it not the same as sprite?" no we just told u. does that sound like sprite to you. does sprite give you the vibe of juicing some lemons on a hot summer day? the lemonade version closest to Sprite over here, in terms of Being Lemonade, is still Notably Different from sprite, or any other soda, is probably Minute Maid, a highly processed branded lemonade that you can occasionally get from soda fountains (DESPITE! NOT BEING CARBONATED! similar to how they somehow dispense iced or sweet tea from soda fountains) it sometimes comes in a can or 2L bottle similar to soda, in the soda isle. and its Not Soda. its not Carbonated. its Trying To Pretend So Hard To Be Real Lemonade. it tastes like lemonade thats a bit sad. it is far more lemonade than SPRITE will ever be. if yall were simply insisting that lemonade is carbonated, that it was like, fizzy minute maid, that would be less offensive than calling sprite lemonade. which is Insane. good god.

[skibasyndrome]

I'm about to throw all my academic values overboard to get this fucking article done

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also it's something (better) like, the exercise of deliberately [art imitates life imitates art] holding up Billions to My IRL Things Perspective and going like whaaat would i want for winston. first answer is you want any character to not have been within the scope of the show in the first place, and to exit it since they are. and you kind of get that in the accidental reward in banishing winston, since like in the end it's just that the show doesn't care about him existing at that point But like it's winston sitting there quietly as everyone leaves & turns out the lights & Then he can leave too; others have peaced out & nobody remembers he exists so Now he can go off & do whatever.

but like in true form i think they definitely accidentally baked in another divine reward for winston in that, like, the way he's kept around as fodder for these fun little [pov: enjoy abusing this guy] asides with him, where it Just So Happens that he's autistic as something they're unaware of but is completely relevant to the expectation we understand him to be inferior(tm), it Just So Happens that he's also ""bad"" at not ""causing"" abuse to be turned on him. he's ""bad"" at staying in line. like well yes Yes that's what i want for him. just like In Real Life it's like yeah Ideally i'd want people to be able to extricate themselves from where they're trapped in power structures & i'd want them to have the perspective about it of understanding they're not Inferior / i.e. they are as much a person as anyone else and they're not corrupting everything good / i.e. it wasn't them Bringing It Upon Themselves and it's not them being Destructive by toppling a jenga tower of a hierarchy that happened to be pressing down on them. and winston is the kind of [the ruinerrrrrr] who is Turned On exactly because he keeps acting like someone who's on the verge of breaking out of the [being in line] someone demands of him as autist, employee, whatever other supposed manifestations of [inferior]

like in the 5 second stretches in which winston's allowed to speak before retaliation, it's because he's like "matter of factly" delivering whatever Information that's useful for another plotline. then he Brings It Upon Himself by making people aware that he's Also existing in his own right as a person rather than what they think serves their own deal / what they want from him at all times, perhaps by expressing his personality (didn't appeal to them! so it was Wrong) or not b/c of anything in particular said or done at present, just b/c people have a constant / accumulating contempt for him so their being in the same room as him & able to see & hear him is already dangerous. the [we're just seeing Any Abusive Dynamic in action] continuing apace.

and it's like, well, right there. he's written as acting like someone who doesn't blame himself for how he's treated, which billions frames as being Rude & Mean, and so too does everyone's abusers lmfao like and that these are his moments that are written to be Bringing It Upon Himself. and it's like hell yeah he doesn't blame himself. hell yeah that his self-esteem can manifest as anger at all. hell yeah that he keeps expressing himself with personality & confidence & doesn't even disguise his having been hurt, & it's this [his ass is Not grey rocking] that billions frames as both him "causing" his abuse & making that abuse "successful" lol, wrow just like real life!! and when like speaking of real life yeah it's not "bad" that people Do engage in strategies to mitigate & survive, including things like blaming themselves or being too "boring" to be anything but a non dialogued background character b/c that's all that goes unpunished, it's bad b/c it's done to them at all, not [ohh they're doing it to themselvesss] and like i'm asking myself like Ideally. what do i want Ideally. and i'd want winston to know that it's being Done To Him & i'd want him to find as much room for his personhood & autonomy as possible. and that's basically how he's written anyways, and billions hates that like You See this is why he deserves it this is why he's doing it to himself. and i'm like my god if that's not Inspiration for like "so what if people don't find you Personally Likable" and not preemptively holding back all personality or anything that'd draw attention as if you exist as a person in your own right & not something that only either gets in the way of or serves their wants of a Real person (someone with more power) like hell yeah you have him out here doing it =']

another fun addendum is like, billions isn't getting into it much b/c it doesn't seem to care much about "what if some people were peers & seem to have a genuine, recipcrocal relationship?" but that it just so happened to be like "oh tuk as the next closest loser who deserves it might be nice to winston" while it's framing winston as the "worse" Loser as being....unconditionally supportive of tuk. while the one downside of billions Also giving bentuk as much as it is is that it also inevitably has that shadow of "but ben is Superior to tuk" and like that it's correct that everyone encourages tuk to Stop Bringing It Upon Himself and start being less of a loser; it's wrong for winston to be like hey let's go have a foursome. like yeah probably don't make a list of the women you work with you'd be dtf but it's not like i'm convinced "ah billions and it's strong anti misogyny stance like" roflmao and billions is Not reflecting on "the downsides of unconditional support?" there when winston was beaten up for criticising taylor earlier like we WILL take his ideas while looting his [beaten unconscious] body there but he WAS wrong to express them as though he's BETTER than taylor!!! mafee's beautiful show of loyalty in kicking his ass even when he might agree with the argument and then benefit when it's adopted by taylor anyways! so it's as usual actually purely based on hierarchy & who gets to be in charge of people. it's correct for ben to be in charge of tuk, unless he has to step aside for that bizarre dead-end subplot about how it's tuk's fault if he's treated badly, b/c it's really his own Failure to have Confidence to know he has good ideas [raising our voice to deliver this message over the sound of breaking desks and chairs and computer monitors over winston because he had the confidence to act like he deserved to talk to someone and because he knows his ideas efforts & results are good & valuable around there] like. and isn't it sooo fucked up to talk about who you're dtf in the episode that has it be neutral if your boss is dtf & lets you know but is nice about it (and you're already Correctly tending to their ego, which you're responsible for!) like hey no possible problem! it's not even so much of a problem for a boss man to have the sex they're entitled to & be rude about their leveraging their power in that acquisition that it Stays a problem into the next season. ew, winston is Known (Inferred) Dtf??? we'll use it to exploit His vulnerability, exacerbate it, & punish him further for good measure in another episode that just revels in abuse & violation with a sexual aspect once again, but like, hey tuk don't do that, winston's such a Bad Influence for being like, shrug, kneejerk intervening with the Good Friendship where the One In Charge leaps in & Tells tuk the Correct thing to do. obviously there's also the tragedy that billions will Never let winston push back against Real Winners like rian or taylor in A Way That Matters (actually gets in their way at all) lol like. one thing that would have really been fun, winston should've literal kneejerk started physically fighting wags in either pertinent scene in 7x03 for real 110%. i wouldn't be like Gasp Violence Is Never The Answer if he just hit someone to hit them b/c fuck you. or broke anything on his way out etc etc. billions would Never let him. which is the other side of the same coin of [why he should get to]

tl;dr how great that winston's being "out of line" means he's basically always noticeably flouting & rebelling against the [He Deserves Abuse] agenda lol. that IS what i want. his being "beyond hope" like ohhh he's sooo stupid he doesn't realize how much he has the bad tastes & wrong interests & annoying personality He Will Always Be This Way like hell yeah!!! billions like oh no winston's personhood will never stay tamped down & locked away such that some godawful person tolerates keeping him in their inventory :( ohhh the ABA will never work :( that's right!!!!!!!!!! although they're not sad about it because it's about relishing the promise there will always be True Inferiors you can enjoy abusing with your righteous power over, but like well you wrote him escaping anyways even while dragging other "better" characters into standing around to serve axe's need for more than 1.8 employees and [crickets, reverberating cough, sneaker scuff] like. another ""wrong"" thing for winston to do, another thing for him to not "deserve," which is itself godawful actually lol like lord what it "rewards" its Good, Deserving characters with, no thanks. meanwhile winston's punishment is that he's autistic and """bad""" at being abused like lmfao good for him, fantastic for him, just what i want