#something something about how watching a man you love go down a destructive path can change you

[eldritchqueerture]

"He's a man that not while ago I would've found pathetic and weak. Now I see him as wise and sensible."

HOW ABOUT YOU JUST STAB ME. JUST FUCKING KILL ME IT'LL HURT LESS

[greetingfromthedead]

1. Death's Door

Series: Apple Blossoms

Series Plot: Knives is finally crushed, his plans in ashes, his body at Death's door, but Vash decides to spare his life. With the last power he has left, he carries his brother to a person who has nursed him back to life, now begging for you to save his twin too. A tattered Knives finds himself in the care of a human and as time goes on, he has to come to terms with uncomfortable truths about his skewed world view and the strange feelings he discovers blooming in his chest for you. // Contains some Trimax spoilers. // A slight mix of all the Trigun iterations, but mostly Trimax

Pairing: Knives x GN!Reader

Series Rating: PG-13 + pwp BONUS chapters

Series Tags: No use of "Y/N", Redemption, Love, Romance, Sickfic, Medical Inaccuracies, Knives is injured, Caretaking, Falling In Love, Adventuring, Cowboy vibes, Knives is introverted, Knives has a crush and is very lost, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Canon, No use of y/n, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Forced Proximity, Trauma, Knives pouts a lot

Word count: 3.3k

Author's Note: It is not yet a fully fleshed out story, I have the first few chapters planned out, but keeping it going will depend partially of the interest shown for it and how things will work out. All in all, I would be grateful to hear your thoughts. What is something you would love to see in such a story, scenarios and dynamics you would like to explore. Perhaps I will adopt some of them.

Yapping | Next Chapter →

It has been many long months since the communications were cut off as the satellites fell from the sky as comets. Since then, the only source of information have been the criers, who travel from village to village, sharing news and stories. Sometimes you hear different stories from different mouths and really can never be sure what the truth is. Apparently, at least most of the Seven Cities have been decimated, and a giant ark is destroying everything in its path. The criers are warning people to seek shelter and prepare for the worst, but you still hold on to a sliver of hope. You've heard that Vash the Stampede is somehow involved in this whole mess. The man with a giant bounty on his head is rumored to be the Devil himself, the Humanoid Typhoon. Some sources say he is behind all of this; he is the one who is raining down destruction as he always does; others say he has stepped up as the protector of humanity on this desolate planet. And the truth remains a mystery, hidden behind the game of telephone and conflicting accounts. Deep down, you believe that he is on your side, fighting to keep humanity safe from the impending destruction.

You have met that strange man before. He arrived in your care with multiple gunshot wounds in the dead of night, or rather, you stumbled over his dying body in the dark desert. It had been nothing short of a miracle that he had evidently walked from the next town over towards your lonely house before collapsing. And it was even more of a coincidence that you found him at all. Vash the Stampede truly has the luck of a demon, or perhaps it was fate. Who's to say? But you did dragged him home, patched him up, and took care of him until he awoke from his week long slumber. He remained under your watchful eye for a bit longer, and as the closest thing to a doctor this area has, you felt it was your duty to make sure he fully recovered before letting him leave. You got to know him quite well during the time he spent at your house. You quickly realized who he was, but let him introduce himself. It became clear to you that the vicious rumors held little truth. He might be clumsy, but not evil. He was nothing but kind and grateful to you, helping you however he could and paying you for the time and medicine spent on him even as you tried to refuse. All that happened a few years ago, but his generosity and kindness still stick with you to this day. You still remember his smiling face as he turned to leave into the empty desert where you found him in the first place.

Nowadays, you live quietly in your lonely house. The closest village is half a day's ride away, and you rarely see anyone besides the occasional messenger passing through. The closest city is Octovern, but to reach that via tomas, it would take nearly half a week. You occasionally take your first aid kit and go through the nearby towns to help anyone in need, but you have been blessed to not be dragged into the larger war decimating the planet. You have been able to maintain a sense of peace and purpose amidst the chaos, but you can only hope things will return to a sense of normality soon, as much as that can be found in this place.

Little did you suspect of the evening where a loud and insistent banging on your door would shift your life entirely. A rap like that always means trouble, and instinctively, you hurried to open the old creaking door into the cooling evening air. The golden light of the setting suns tries to flood into your hallway, only to be obscured by a giant figure. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to see more than just the silhouette, but still, the sight leaves you dumbfounded. Before you are two people, but they aren't entirely human as wings spread from their backs, not quite covered in feathers like an angel, partially reminding you of roots and stone, partially of shattering metal. Two wings, one on each of the bloody men. One holds the unconscious body of the other. He struggles to stay upright, one knee on the ground, the other supporting the limp form of the other as his singular arm wraps around the other's waist. The stump of his left arm has wires tangling from it, and it must have been what he used to knock on your door. It takes you too long to realize who that man is—Vash. His blonde hair is now entirely black, and his features are obscured by dirt and blood.

"Please. Help." He pleads with desperation in his eyes. "Can you save him?"

Your eyes shift to the man in his grasp. He is looking even rougher than Vash; his clothes seem burned and torn, and his skin is covered in blood and open wounds. His face is bruised and swollen. He hangs limply in Vash's embrace, his arms dangling lifelessly at his sides in an uncanny fashion. He's barely breathing, and it's clear that time is running out.

"Right!" You stir from your shock. "Let's get him inside!"

You push aside the weirdness and the unnatural aspects of the situation you find yourself in and slip back into the familiar feeling of urgency. You rush forward to put a shoulder under the unconscious man and lift him up with the help of Vash. You drag him not to the cot that's reserved for your patients, but instead you haul him onto the long dinner table that doubles as an examination table in a pinch. Your hands move on their own as they grab what you need: shears and cloths, first aid kits, bandages, medicine, water, and alcohol. You firmly tell Vash to sit down on the stool in the corner and not get in your way. You feel bad for being so stern with him, especially since he is injured too, but the man on the table is already playing dice with death.

You get to work quickly, knowing that every second counts. You remove the tattered clothing and assess the extent of his injuries. You're surprised he still has life left in him with the amount of blood he must have lost, chunks of his body apparently missing, gashes, and cracks covering his skin. You do as much as you can, focusing on the larger wounds first, knowing that time is of the essence in saving him. To your surprise, he doesn't bleed nearly as much as you think he should, given the severity of his situation. You roughly stitch him up and pull a few bullets from his flesh. His internal organs seem in good enough condition, and you're glad you don't have to operate on them further. As you work away, the wing on his back crumbles; the chunks feel strange, and you can't begin to guess the material, but you don't have a chance to analyze it either. By the time you are done, the wing is gone, leaving a chunky heap on the ground, almost like sand. You clean his body with water and alcohol before checking his skeleton and joints. There are no broken bones, but the right shoulder is dislocated. You take care to pull it back into place with a snap, and you continue to examine him. Much of his skin is cracked; it looks strange, and you can't begin to guess what caused it.

After hours of grueling work, you administer him medicine to hopefully avoid infection, another dose of strong painkillers, and some saline to help with his recovery. You lift his head carefully as you smear the gooey concoction on his gums for a longer lasting effect. To be doubly safe, you inject more drugs directly into his bloodstream and lather the wounds with ointment to help them heal. Wrapping him in bandages takes a lot from you too, especially since you can't accept Vash's offer to help since he is still dirty. By the end, your patient is almost entirely covered in bandages but still breathing. You throw a clean blanket over him and a pillow under his head, too worried to move him off the table onto the bed. It will have to wait, perhaps if he survives until dawn. But the chances of him making it through the night seem slim.

"Right." You let out a deep sigh. You can finally shift your attention from the dying man to Vash. You are deep into the night, pushing the morning hours, with dark circles forming under your eyes, but there is no rest for you yet. You turn towards the man in the chair; he looks like hell. You have never seen him look this bad before, and last time, he was the one whose life was dripping from his body on this table. Tears have carved deep lines into his dust, ash, and blood covered cheeks. There is an unusual mix of emotions on his face, but worry burns the brightest.

"It's your turn now," you say to Vash, catching his attention. His gaze lifts from the floor, and for a moment, it seems like he didn't hear you at all. You just continue, getting a washbasin, cloth and a jug of water ready. "You can use these to clean up; I'll help you with any spots you can't reach in a bit; I'll clean this mess up first."

"Will he survive? Will he be alright?" he asks instead, ignoring your comment completely.

"I do not know. I tried my best. The rest is up to him and fate itself. Whether he makes it or not is out of my hands." You look at him sympathetically. "Hopefully dawn will bring good news," you say softly.

As you pick up your bloody tools and cloths, you hear Vash stand up, but instead of walking towards the counter where the washing supplies are, his steps lead away, towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" you ask resolutely, a nip in your voice. He pauses in silence for a moment.

"I must go. I have some things to take care of still," he answers, a note of guilt present in his tone.

"You will clean up, have me patch you up, and take a nap before you can think about leaving. Doctor's orders!" Your words are commanding, leaving no room for argument. You're both tired; he looks awful, and you almost sway on your feet. But your work is not yet done.

Vash stands quietly for a moment longer before turning back and stripping a few layers of his tattered clothing. Exposing the bruises and wounds covering his body. He struggles a little with the setup at hand, using the reflection of your window to try and see where he has to reach. At the same time, you clean up the mess you made while working on your patient. You wipe the surfaces and wash the tools, and finally, you can discard the bloody robe, mask, and gloves.

You help Vash wash away the dirt from any spots he can't reach and have him sit on the chair in his underwear. You stick a cup of warm tea in his hand and down a strong coffee yourself before washing your face with cold water to wake up again. After that, you set everything up to stitch him back together and get to work. You examine him thoroughly and give him pain medication before getting the needle out. His body is tense and his pulse is still high; he has yet to calm down.

"Is he your brother? Even under all that bruising and swelling, I can tell the similarities." You speak softly to him to get his mind off the things that are hurting him at the moment.

"Yes, my twin," Vash replies, his voice hoarse and filled with pain.

"I didn't even know you had a twin. What's his name?" You continue as you tie together another suture.

"Knives."

"That's an interesting name," you say with little emotion in your tone, most of your attention going into taking care of his wounds. A stray thought of the wings crosses your mind; Vash has lost his too in the time your focus was on his brother. There is clearly something weird going on, but for now you are too tired to ask the relevant questions, and you need Vash to relax.

"I guess…" His voice trails off, and you can see him staring at the unconscious body on the table.

You keep talking as you work on him, stitching, disinfecting, and bandaging the larger cuts one by one. You give him a checkup and pain medication, and as you take his pulse, it is normal again. You are relieved; he seems to be stable and doing alright despite the way he looks. You provide him with some loose clothing you have laying around just in case and make him get in the bed you have in the other room to rest and recover for the night. He is hesitant, but the tiredness in his eyes tells you that he needs the rest.

"I will stay up with your brother; I will check on him, and I promise I will wake you up if there are any issues. Sleep. You need it." You assure him as you throw a cooling blanket on him before turning off the light and leaving the room. "Rest easy; everything will be alright now."

You return to the patient on the table and check his vitals again. You take his pulse and check his light blue eyes. His breathing has returned to normal, and he looks to be doing better, but as you press your hand on his forehead, you feel the developing fever. You know that this could be a sign of infection, and it makes you slightly nervous. His jet black hair feels damp as your hand glides over it, and you notice that his skin is sticky to the touch. However, you try to remain calm and decide to check again soon and keep a close eye on him.

To keep yourself from falling asleep, you keep yourself busy with whatever tasks you find. You clean up your kitchen from everything, organize your cabinets, and even clean Vash's clothes and hang them to dry outside. Dawn comes, but nothing changes; the slight fever still lingers, and Vash is asleep. You mix up some sugar water and carefully drip a few drops into Knives's mouth. He swallows painfully, and you continue administering him the water for a few hours. You're losing the battle with your exhaustion, so you make yourself a cup of coffee again, letting it steep while checking on the wounds. They look good, and it almost appears like they've started to heal a little. You write it off as your own delusion. The rising suns cast their hot light on the desert, and Vash's clothes dry in no time. You pick them up and get to sewing the dark shirt and his pants; the red coat is mostly gone, burned, and torn.

You realize that it has been a while since your last meal, as you even missed yesterday's dinner. You get to cooking up some porridge after leaving Vash's clothes in the other room and making sure from afar that he is still breathing. Every quarter hour, you return to the man on the table, check on him, and give him some water and medicine if necessary. Nothing has changed, neither for the better nor for the worse, and you are grateful for that, counting your blessings as you remind yourself of the condition he arrived in.

Another hour passes as Vash appears in the door-frame, his eyes first falling on his brother before moving to you. He looks better; he is still covered in bandages and bruises, but the wary tiredness is gone from his eyes. He wears the clothes you mended for him, and his expression softens as he takes in the sight of you checking the pulse of your patient.

"Good morning," you tell him with a slight smile. "I made some food, but it's probably cold by now. Feel free to take as much as you want. Your brother is doing alright; he has a slight fever, but it hasn't gotten worse. The wounds look good, and I've given him water and medicine. For now, it's okay; he is not out of the woods, but he's getting there."

"Morning," Vash says as he walks closer to you. He doesn't say much; there is an unexplainable expression on his face as he pulls you into a one armed yet crushing bear hug. You feel his breathing get more ragged as he holds you; he repeats seemingly endless "thank you"s until you feel tears soaking your shirt. He finally lets you go, holding your shoulder and looking you in the eyes, tears and snot running down his face.

"You're welcome, but don't get too carried away, okay? I cannot promise you anything other than that I will try to get him back to full health; it doesn't mean it will happen." You try to calm him down again, reaching for a tissue to hand him. "Now eat; I will check your wounds again after that."

And so it goes. Vash eats his fill, dragging his chair a bit closer to the table but not quite next to it, as you gave him a stern look, worried for any contamination. He finishes his meal quickly, eager to have his wounds checked, as if he is in a hurry. Luckily, they look fine, and you lather him in ointment and cover everything with fresh bandages, relieved that he is okay.

"You said you had some business to attend to. Is that why you are vibrating on this chair?" You ask calmly, checking the strange cracks in his skin on his cheek.

"Well, I have to go. I promise I will be back as soon as I can—just a few days at most. I am sorry to just dump him on you, but I beg you. I only go to keep both of you safe." His sky blue eyes try to track your movement the best they can as you put a bandage on him.

"It's alright; I'll take care of him. I doubt he will regain consciousness anytime soon. I can only hope he won't get worse." You take a step back, happy with your handiwork, as nothing is bleeding. It's the best you can do for Vash right now.

"I will forever be in your debt. Thank you for everything. I will pay you once I get back, I swear." His eyes look pleadingly at you as he gets up from the chair.

"I believe you; don't worry about that." You smile, recognizing the honor in his face.

Vash gives you a nod and goes closer to his brother. He says something quietly to him, and you don't quite pick up any of the words. With that, Vash turns and walks to the front door, and you follow.

"Thank you again," he says to you tenderly, and then more loudly over the whole house: "Get better soon, brother!"

You watch as Vash steps outside, heading into the desert. Only a little while later, you figure out he has nothing with him but the clothes on his back and the gun on his leg. No water, no food, no shelter—nothing. You turn and see what's left of the red coat on the chair, now realizing you must really be out of it to not notice it sooner. But it's too late to go after him now; all you can do is hope that he has a plan.

Yapping | Next Chapter →

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[ottpopfic]

“We got some new campers in,” Jason eventually says “They were, really young”

“Hmm,” Leo presses a kiss into his husband's hair “How young?”

“Like four and six”

“So you young?”

"Yeah"

---

Leo and Jason talk about kids

Every once in a while Leo thinks his man’s job is bad for him.

It's a draining process that doesn’t really have an off switch, being both camps super pope. Jason gets dreams and demands from gods in the least gentle way they can possibly deliver them. Then there's paperwork (which looks to Leo like its own personal hell but that might just be him), and research and politics and travel . Jason excels at it, he's been trained for it for one, and it suits him. He's doing important work that keeps the peace and shit, it looks fulfilling and he openly enjoys it

But it also pulls on that deep-seated need for him to be the perfect soldier, that cellular-level demand to put duty and country and others first. It's destructive at times, but Leo thinks that's why the flaw is called fatal. And Leo has decided somewhere along the line that he’s allowed to be greedy when it comes to his husband ; he chased him out of hell enough to earn that right. He's also decided that he's not chasing him out again, they're both alive now and he would like them to stay that way. This means that Jason is not allowed to self-destruct. Even if Leo is a hypocrite, as he likes to run around self-destructing all the time. But Jason can pick him up and physically throw him on the bed when he starts down that path (and then lay on him until he passes out from the comforting weight of his man and sheer exhaustion) but whatever that's not the point

The point is his man looks like death after his trip to New Rome and went right back to work without a full twelve hours of sleep after doing some crazy ambassadorial work and being gone for two weeks. Leo can smell the overwork spiral starting, he's an expert as it's one of his favorite kinds of spirals to take down himself. The issue is he can't physically force his man to take a nap, when Leo was supposed to do a good chunk of his growing he spent it malnourished and sleeping under bridges, even into his thirties he's never gotten over 5’5” and is a scrawny twig to boot. He's better, the moms got some weight and muscle mass on him in his late teens when he wasn't going around dying on repeat, but not enough to physically force the 6’6” wall of muscle that is his walking marble sculpture of a husband out of his office.

Fortunately what he does have is access to a state-of-the-art workshop and a brain that can engineer just about anything. He has Rube Goldberg his man out of his office on three separate occasions just this year, for some reason it makes Jason all blushy and heart-eyed each time the fucking nerd. Something about being able to physically watch Leo’s brain work, and also that he always has the blond landing at his feet and Jason loves looking at him. It's something he's had to get used to, those piercing blue eyes tracking his every movement like him sitting soldering for two hours straight is the most distracting thing in the world

Apparently this is the main reason he needed an office, said he couldn't get any work done with Leo in the room. At the time Leo just thought it was because Jason was anxious watching him work, both of them fresh from watching each other die a lot and Leo being around heavy machinery, he now knows it's because he was looking at his ass

Whatever, whatever . What matters is that Jason needs a day off and Leo is not above getting creative. Or becoming a nuisance, he's also very good at being a nuisance. He can start by being a nuisance, the bowling balls and pulley systems aren't going anywhere. Also, he doesn't want to explain why he needs the legos back to Will and Nico, their godkid is busy with them anyway

Being a nuisance includes climbing on top of Jason's desk and possibly getting the grease on his pants soaked into fancy paperwork, but who's fault is that? Definitely not Leo’s, he's been a good noodle getting his full eight hours even with his husband gone and everything. He doesn't even let his husband start in on him, because he's the one in the wrong this time, Leo just gets himself comfy with his feet on either side of Jason's hips. He uses his ankles to hook into the armrest of the rolling desk chair to pull the blonde a little closer so he can take his face in his hands, squishing his cheeks together until his lips pucker like a fish

“You need a break” Leo scolds “You didn't even set your alarms or anything”

Jason grumbles about needing to finish something or whatnot, very illegal with the amount of sleep he's gotten after all the travel. Leo squishes his face more so he can't talk

“You need a nap,” he demands “And I want cuddles, you were gone for two weeks I'm in withdrawal”

Jason just sighs, sliding his hands up Leo’s thighs to rest on his waist under his shirt and presses his face into his hands like he's trying to soak in Leo’s touch. And that's, concerning. Usually when he gets like this it takes more than just the first try to get him to disengage, and he's way more snappy about his hyperfocus being disrupted. Leo pulls his man’s face into the crook where his shoulder meets neck, Jason immediately melts

“Hey, what's up?” Leo asks him softly. Jason does a snort huff sign that Leo can loosely translate to ‘Something was a lot more than usual and it followed me home’. Leo gets one arm around Jason’s shoulder and the other hand in his hair for scratchies, settling in to wait for his man to find English again

Jason takes a while to gather himself, scratchies don't really help with coherent sentences but it's fine. Leo just starts in on his cuddle quota and looks at the photo from their godkid's recent birthday perched on the bookshelf. Nico took it, over-excited freshly turned ten-year-old watching Leo’s disembodied fingers light the candles as Will and Jason look on with worry. It's crazy that Katie has only been with them for two years, it feels like longer

Leo really enjoys having a kid in their lives, and Katie is awesome. She's clever and spunky and is basically unspookable when it comes to magic shit (grocery stores on the other hand, not so much). Somehow they ended up in a four-way co-parenting arrangement. Legally she's Will and Nico’s, but she half-lives at the Way Station with how their schedules go. And it's great, Leo loves it and so does Jason. It's like everything is better having the kid around, everything is that much more fun getting to watch her experience it too.

“We got some new campers in,” Jason eventually says “They were, really young”

“Hmm,” Leo presses a kiss into his husband's hair “How young?”

“Like four and six”

“So you young?”

“Yeah”

That tracks. They have been making a lot of progress at Camp Half-Blood, but in comparison New Rome has been stagnant when it comes to the treatment of their youngest orphaned charges. It's been bothering Jason more as of late, especially since Katie came into their lives. Almost like looking at this little girl day in day out puts it in perspective how young they were when they went through so much. When Leo was ten he had just run away from his latest foster home because they were starving him, when Jason was ten he was a soldier.

It's damn near impossible to picture Katie in those situations, not because she hasn't gone through her own shit, but because Leo would be personally burning down everything in his way to prevent it.

But that's the difference isn't it, Katie has family looking out for her. Unlike they did, unlike those new campers do

“So whats the plan?” Leo asks, resting his cheek on his husband's hair

Jason sighs and leans into him harder “I don't know” he says “I just keep getting all upset”

“About what part?”

“I don't know. The age? Or how small they are,” Jason leans his face in even harder, his arms now wrapped around Leo’s waist like he can merge their bodies together if he presses enough “It also made me think about Katie, how small she must have been at that age. Then it got all jumbled up”

Leo might be able to read between the lines a little “You were probably that small too” he tries

“I guess”

“Do you think it's about you too, or just the kids?”

“Mabey, I don't want it to be”

“It's okay if it is”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is” Leo plants another kiss into his husband's hair “Your allowed to be upset for Puppy Jason, he didn't do anything to deserve what happened to him”

“Puppy Jason is a son of Jupiter” Jason dismisses with a snort

“Yeah, but he didn't ask for that”

“I guess”

“Hey,” Leo pulls back to meet Jason’s eyes so he knows he means it “Puppy Jason didn't deserve to be a child soldier, you know that right?”

“But he's supposed to-”

“Would it be okay for any of your godkids to join that young?” Leo pushes on, keeping his tone kind

“No! No, I would-” Jason gives a disgruntled snort-sneeze like he's trying to blow away the idea before turning back to him “But it's different ”

“How?”

“I don't know, it just is ”

“Oh, Cielito ,” Leo takes his husband's face in his hands and pulls him in so their foreheads rest together “It's okay”

Jason does a little sigh and facial motion that Leo can translate to ‘It's not’, and it breaks his heart

“I wouldn't let Puppy Jason go do war shit,” he tells him instead, nuzzling his forehead into his husband’s “I would probably just have to take Puppy Jason home with me”

“Even though Puppy Jason bites?” Jason teases with a small sad smile

“Adult Jason bites” Leo insists deadpan

“And eats bugs?”

“Have you met our godkid?”

That makes Jason chuff out a laugh, Katie is truly a ferocious bug eater, she even shares with Jason sometimes the feral weirdos. There has been more than one occasion where Leo has had to stop the both of them from eating grubs when they do the wedding in the roof garden. Like he knows they're edible, but still.

“I’d do kids with you any day,” he says, pulling his husband into a hug with his arms around his neck “You know that. But especially puppy you, got a soft spot for that one”

Jason sighs as he melts into the hug, winding his arms back around Leo’s waist. Leo can practically hear his husband's brain ticking, taking everything he said and adding what he was feeling and molding it into something closer to processing it all together. He needs a moment, Jason is good with snap judgment in crises and leadership scenarios but when it's quiet and slow-paced it can take him a moment. Leo is content to hold him as he puts things together and finds the right words

“What if I said I didn't want to keep the kids?” Jason probes after a while, hiding his face in the hug “What if I said I just wanted to help lots of kids?”

“Like foster care?”

“Would you be okay with that?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“You didn't have the best experience, they were pretty awful”

“I mean not all of them, the last one was pretty great”

“The last one?”

Leo pulls back so he can gesture to the room, and in turn the Way Station, as a whole

“O-oh!”

“What did you think I meant?”

“I don't know, I guess I just forgot that your moms were your foster moms” Jason's face lit up a bit at the realization “It's home here now”

“It is, isn't it” Leo smiles at him, he will never be over the both of them and home “But foster families adopt all the time. And theres people out there trying to make it better”

“Like Piper”

“Like Piper”

Piper who somewhere along the lines decided she needed to take down the troubled teen industry and expose its abusive underbelly. It's a sight to behold, the woman got her social worker license and has been using her charm-speak for good ever since. Last Leo heard (as of last week) she just finished a case with with a place that preached ‘tough love’, it was all over the mortal news.

“You could do that too,” Leo reminds his husband “You have a say in laws and shit right. Age limits are a thing, and there are a lot more adult half-bloods now”

“Make a demigod foster care network?”

“Yeah”

“You would do that with me?”

“Absolutely,” Leo says, and he means it, “I told you, I'll do kids with you any day”

Jason’s expression goes gooey and lovesick

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks with a smile

“I mean you did die a bunch for me sooooo”

“I’d do it again,” his man swears like breathing

“Please don't,” Leo tucks a stray lock of fluffy blond hair back in place “I'm enjoying us being alive right now”

Jason laughs, it's cheesed and geeked and dorky, with eyes gleaming full of devotion. Leo kisses him, a solid proper kiss, one turning into many that pulls giggles out of him too

Foster kids huh, it's a full circle

“I also had to have some ambrosia when it was there,” Jadon tells him when they separate “It changed again”

“Oh, is it not our wedding cake anymore?” Leo asks with mock offense “I've been ousted?”

“It's Cheerios and chocolate chips”

“You and Katie’s after-school snack?”

“Yeah”

“Man,” Leo squished his face once more, but it's purely cuteness aggression “You need to stop being so adorable, I can't handle it”

“How is that adorable?”

“Just you and your big squishy heart” he gives him a smooch on the nose “I love you”

They kiss again, it's wonderful

“I should call Piper,” Jason says when they separate

“Uh, no.” Leo insists, pulling back so Jason can see his disgruntled face “You should take me to bed so we can take a nap”

“But I need to-”

“A nap Mr. Valdez,” Leo insists, ignoring the way his husband's eyes sparkle over the mention of their now-shared last name. It's been a year and a half they both need to get a grip “You were flying and I need cuddles. I am withering away from lack of cuddles, I’m a sheet on the wind”

“Is that so?” Jason places a kiss on a fading hickey on the side of his neck “I can think of other reasons to take you to bed, might do the same thing”

“Oh no,” Leo says, starting to push his man away “You are not getting out of nap time by being all sexy cute, absolutely not”

Jason does a snort and nip that Leo knows translates to ‘I can find ways to change your mind’, rude. And also illegal with the way he's been working. Leo starts squirming away from his husband backwards on the desk, rumpling papers and pulling an unhappy whine out of his man. Jason hooks his fingers under the waistband of Leo’s pants before he can get far

“You gonna be good and go to bed?” Leo asks, leaning back on his elbows so his husband can't get back in his space. Jason gives a puff-huff and flashes a canine, trying to pull Leo back in by his grip on his belt. Leo doesn't let him, putting a foot on Jason’s soft middle so he can't bend or pull him closer. That just makes his man whine, the big baby. Leo quirks his eyebrow and bares his own teeth, telling his husband that he means it

They have a little standoff, which includes two sneeze-snorts from Jason and one exhale of smoke from Leo, but in the end his husband relents.

“Fine,” the blond gives in with more whining “Just, cm’mere”

Leo lets himself be pulled into his husband's lap, knees on either side of his hips, and starts in on peppering kisses on every inch of his stupid handsome face. Jason makes a happy little noise and leans into the affection, sliding his hands up the back of Leo’s shirt so his fingers can trace the Lichtenberg scars running between his shoulder blades

“Nap time,” Leo demands once he feels like his man has been thoroughly smooched “And if your a good boy we can play later”

The grin that gets out of his husband is blinding, Jason eagerly scooping him up under his ass to take him to their room.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

So, so tired to see all these “in TSR Aang didn’t care about Katara in the slightest but rather forced his culture onto her” lies.

Aang: The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you're being poisoned yourself.

Come. On!

If this is not “killing this man will traumatize you” then I don’t know what proof they want. He’s clearly showing care and concern for Katara here. And then Aang will let her borrow Appa aka the last living part of his culture and Aang will say that Katara needs to take this journey and to face this man and in the end Aang will be more than happy to hear that she hasn’t taken his forgiveness advice because she has her own way… only for some people to tell that he doesn't give a shit and only thinks about forcing his culture or whatever.

And these are the people who constantly brag about being the only ones in the fandom with media literacy. Their “media literacy” is, in fact, non-existent.

They don't care what the real message or context was, they only care about making Aang look bad. If the roles were somehow reversed and it was Zuko advocating for a non-violent solution while Aang encouraged Katara to get revenge, suddenly there'd be questions as to why the hero's got-to response to pain and rage, no matter how righteous, is going for the kill.

But because Zuko was the one encouraging it, there's no room to talk about how this him relapsing into the old pattern of thinking he can only fix things through violence due to how he was raised (and abused).

Or about how it is VERY disappoiting to see the brave prince that once stood up for his soldiers to now be ready to murder one of them in cold blood for the crime of follwing orders (that were cruel and unjust and that basic human decency says he shouldn't have followed), aka the same thing Zuko himself was doing less than a month ago, when he is not currently posing a threat to anyone.

Or about how he did it all because he felt entitled to Katara's forgiveness and only started to truly empathize with her in the middle of their journey.

Or about how, regardless of if killing that fucker was right or wrong, revegence of justice, cruelty or doing him a favor, it was KATARA'S DECISION to go after him, then to spare him but not forgive him - something both Zuko and AANG respected.

It's an episode about the pain and rage that comes from grief, especially from an unfair death that was caused by a cruel coward, and how it's important to recognize those feelings and process them so they won't consume you. It's about Katara as a character, with Zuko, the former imperialist, representing a self-destructive path of continuing the cicle of violence, and Aang, the pacifist, reminding her that SHE IS NOT A MURDERER!

But zutarians only care about Katara in the context of this made-up love triangle, so they force it onto the episode too.

[coffeecat1983]

Wreck-It Ralph & Mario Bros: Of Plungers and Hammers pt 3

Felix shifted uncomfortably.      "What do you do when you love someone, but bein' in love doesn't fit with your code?"      "Felix, you remember my game description, don't you?" He was surprised by her reply but nodded. "Well, sure. I know all the Nicelanders." he straightened up, clearing his throat. "'Mary Nicelander: A master at baking cakes and pies of any kind, she is the kindhearted one who makes sure Fix-It Felix and the others are well cared for.'"      "That's the one. But Felix, that's just the first half."      "First half?" Mary closed her eyes and began to recite; "Mary gained her baking expertise by endless hours of practice, hoping her treats would help her win over the fella of her dreams, Gene."    She laughed at Felix's dumbfounded look.      "You and Gene?" he managed, making her laugh more.      "Yup! And dear, let me tell you, it might be in our codes, but Gene and I can't stand the idea of being sweethearts!" She leaned in. "I rather like Norwood, myself."    She stood, straightening out her dress. "Remember, your code is just the cover. And Felix, the cover can be completely different to the book inside." A motherly kiss to his cheek and she took a step back.      "Goodnight, dear. Don't stay up too late, okay?"    Promising he wouldn't and with a soft goodnight, he watched her leave. Touching his left shoulder with two fingers and twisting them, he watched as his game description popped up.    'Fix-It Felix, Jr. At 23, he is the youngest to ever be in charge of the Nicelanders' apartment homes and using the magic hammer gifted to him by his father, he proudly holds that position as he protects everyone from all manner of destruction.    While any of the ladies of Niceland would love to be at his side, Felix is a single guy with eyes only for his work...'    Closing the description, he looked back up at the stars. "Code is just the cover." he repeated.

     "Feeeeelix!" Startled, the young man looked over the edge of the roof. "Ralph?" His friend was racing over the path from the tram.      "Felix where are you?!" Ralph skidded to a halt as Felix bounced down the front of the building.      "Ralph what's gotten into you? You're hollerin' loud enough to wake the zombies in Undead Apocalypse 3!"      "F-Felix, you gotta tell me," Ralph panted, pointing a finger accusingly, "you're not thinkin' of clipping your code, are you?"    Felix jumped in shock and rapidly looked around, shushing him. "What are you talkin' about?" he hissed between clenched teeth. "How did you get such a crazy idea?!"    Standing so he towered over the other, Ralph folded his arms. "So, you feel it too? That feeling, it's all over the Arcade. Just like last time."      "I didn't even feel it." Felix muttered. "Any idea where it's comin' from?"    Before Ralph could reply, a cry was heard.      "Felix!"    Both was startled to see Princess Peach running towards them. Felix took off his hat in respect.      "Your majesty? What-"      "It's Mario!" she panted, tears streaking her face, "you've got to hurry! He left a note! He's going to clip his code!" An icy chill pierced Felix's heart and he bolted on ahead of Peach.

   'Clipping' as it was called in the video game world was something most avoided ever mentioning, and those who did spoke in hushed whispers. Each character, from the smallest NPC to the biggest main hero held a special line in their programming. A line of code that no programmer wrote, but it was thought that it appeared when games were first plugged in. This code was considered to be the heart of each character, their soul. Clipping was the act of severing the connection to this line of code.    In the entire history of the Arcade, only one character had ever clipped his code. The effect was one Felix hoped he would never see again. The life had gone out of his eyes and he became cold and distant, barely speaking to anyone or interacting with the world around him. Eventually this began to happen during gameplay and gamers complained that the game was broken.    The game was unplugged without warning. Heart pounding at the memory, Felix ran even faster.

Gloved fists pounded on the Mario Kart code vault door.      "Big bro, please!" Luigi begged. "Come back!" Daisy rapidly tapped at the controller lock, trying any cheat code she could think of. On the other side of the door, a rope around his waist, Mario floated out amid the glowing icons and lines of code.    He swallowed hard, forcefully ignoring the banging and the cries of his little brother on the other side of the door. One simple touch and the code icon marked with his trademark 'M' opened to reveal dozens of smaller icons. Spying one marked with a thought bubble, he tapped it, feeling curious. It opened, showing dozens of small windows that played and replayed videos. An ache in his chest as he realized he was looking at his own memories. One would close and another would open.    The day the game was plugged in.    Luigi's first win on the tracks.    The twins and the bros playing the game.    Meeting Felix for the first time.    The night of the dance.    The moment Felix ran out.    The kiss.      "Just forget me."    Tears stung his eyes as he closed the icon. He blinked them away and searched the icons, finding the one marked with a golden heart.

     "Comin' through! I need to get through please!" the voice was a wild mix of polite, urgent, and terrified. Luigi and Daisy stood aside as Felix shot up to the door and muttered under his breath, his eyes darting back and forth as he entered the cheat code.    Mario reached for the heart and hesitated. The yelling behind him had stopped. His heart sank and he reached out again only to feel a sharp yank and go flying backwards. Tumbling head over heels from the force he rolled past the code corridor and landed flat on his back, looking up to see Luigi, Daisy, Peach, and Bowser all staring at him. Sitting up with a groan, Mario grunted as Luigi grabbed him with a happy cry.      "You're still you!" his little brother cheered, hugging him tightly. He quickly sat back, looking him over. "You are still you, right?"      "Y-Yeah, yeah, Weege," Mario said shakily, "I'm still me." Peach kneeled beside them, a hand on Mario's shoulder.      "You scared us all half to death. If Felix hadn't-" Mario's eyes went wide. "Felix?" he then saw the other man standing nearby. Felix gave him a small wave.      "Hey, Mario," he said, hands shyly behind his back. Mario couldn't meet his gaze. Letting out a rumbling growl, Bowser threw the rope to the floor and stomped over to the brothers.      "Outta the way." he shooed Luigi and Peach away and grabbed Mario, holding him up by the overalls and using a claw to remove the rope that was tied around him. Looking right at Mario, he snorted, faint trails of smoke curling up from his nostrils.      "Listen pipsqueak, you don't get to destroy yourself, that's my job. Got it? Now look," he stepped aside, glancing at Felix. "You like him, right?"      "Y-Yeah, I do."      "And you!" Bowser pointed right at Felix, startling him. "You like him back?"      "H-He does give m-me the honey-glow somethin' awful." Felix confessed. Bowser rolled his eyes, muttering 'whatever' before stomping over and dropping Mario in front of him.      "Talk, now. Or so help me I will tie both of you up in a room of bob-ombs until you do!" Turning back, he snarled and waved at the other three. "C'mon, give em some space! Dang lovesick idiots."

   Begrudgingly the others gave in to his orders and filed out, leaving the two alone. Felix anxiously looked Mario up and down.      "You're not hurt, are you?"      "A few bumps but I'm okay-!" Mario was cut off as Felix grabbed him, holding him close.      "You scared the everlovin' daylights outta me, mister!" he shifted and cupped Mario's face in his hands. "Don't ever do that again!" he scolded before letting him go. He then looked guilty. "Why did you do this? Because of me?"    It was Mario's turn to look guilty. "It hurt too much. The thought of bein' without you."    They were both silent for a moment before Felix let out a groan of frustration and began pacing rapidly.      "All this because of something some of the Nicelanders said," he fumed, "and here I give in to it." He turned swiftly on his heel. "Oh, codes and programming be, be darned!" he blurted out before stomping up to Mario. "I don't care what people think, what my game description says. Me bein' single all my life can just, oh it can go to heck! I love you, Mario, I always have!" He calmed a bit. "Excuse my potty mouth, but some things just need to be said."    Their eyes met. Mario's the rich color of sapphires, Felix the pale blue of a clear sky. A tan-gloved hand came to rest on the plumber's cheek as they drew close.      "I think they're gonna finally kiss!"      "Daisy!!" The loud whispers made them whip around in time to see Daisy being yanked away from the doorway by Peach. Luigi peered around the corner, giving a thumbs up.      "All good, you guys can continue!" he said cheerfully. In the background Daisy was complaining loudly to Peach about being yanked away.    The moment broken, Mario and Felix burst into laughter. Wiping away a few tears, Mario sighed.      "There's supposed to be another dance tomorrow." he ventured. He took Felix's hand. "How about it? Wanna try this again from the start?"    Felix squeezed his hand. "We're video game characters, restarting is part of the deal."    His reply sent Mario into more laughter.

   The dance floor was as busy as the first night, the party in full swing. While many had opted for their usual clothing in place of party clothes, some still dressed up. Felix smoothed down his silk vest as he approached the dance floor, all the while trying to ignore his heart pounding in his ears. Across the floor he spied Luigi and Daisy. He waved and the pair waved back.      "They really make a cute couple," he muttered.      "So do you and Mario," came a voice. Peach gave him a warm smile as he whipped around, pulling his hat off in the process.      "Peach! I-I mean your majesty, it's good to see you."      "And you. I owe you, Felix, we all do, for getting the vault door open. But can you do me one more favor?" Felix scrunched his hat in his fingers, afraid of what she was going to ask. "Yes, your majesty, I can sure try."    Peach looked fondly towards Mario, who was approaching them from the stage.      "Take care of him for me, won't you?" Felix brightened up. "Yes ma'am!" He paused. "Y-You're sure about this?"      "I'm sure. He might be my hero in our coding, but he's definitely your guy. Besides," she looked to Bowser and back to Felix, giving a wink. "I got a thing for bad boys." 

   Felix looked up as the lights shifted to rainbow and a familiar song began to play. Mario came up and held out his hand.      "I made a little song request." Accepting, Felix took his hand and the two strolled out onto the dance floor. As they danced, Felix chuckled.      "You know, I'm pretty sure songs like this aren't for traditional ballroom dancing." He was stunned as Mario twirled him around and dipped. Holding him, the plumber's eyes sparkled.      "What can I say? I like to go against the code." A nervous, soft laugh as they stood. "Heh, y-yeah, me too." He found himself staring into the other's eyes, unable to look away from the glittering sapphires.      "You're right," he breathed. "The lyrics should be 'lost in the bluest eyes'."    They drew closer to each other, but Mario held back. "Too many people," he whispered, "why don't we go somewhere more private?"    Sonic tipped his sunglasses, watching the pair leave. Zipping across the dance floor he skidded to a halt in time to hear Daisy grumbling to Luigi.      "Not again! Why are they leaving? What went wrong?!" Ralph shambled over. "Don't worry, it's not like last time at all."      "What makes you say that, Ralph?" Sonic asked.      "They were holding hands."

To be continued...

[blackjackkent]

Heyyy, have you ever written your Hec and Karlach with the "blows up at the pier" ending? I am just not sure where to look for it lol but I always love imagining the "alt routes" but I understand if others are too sad to dip toes in

Oh man, anon coming in with the Big Feels out of nowhere. :D I love it. As per usual this got way longer than intended and very out of hand. XD

I have not written that before and it is indeed VERY sad to think about. But I am up for giving it a try! [rolls up sleeves, braces self]

(If you're interested, I also answered a similar version of this question a while back regarding Hector's life in a worldstate where Karlach got mind-flayered, which was ALSO sad. 😭 )

So anyway. Scenario, then: the brain fight didn't go super smoothly and Wyll is unconscious, so Hector is left with no other voice to save Karlach from her self-sacrifice.

-----

No one moves. The pier is suddenly deathly silent as the roaring of Karlach's engine falls to stillness. Hector sways unsteadily on his feet, clinging to the afterimages of the flame still burned into his eyes.

Don't breathe. Don't think. When you think, it will become real...

But there is no stopping it. Thinking is what he does best, after all. She taught him to live, for a while, to see the glory and goodness of the wide world outside the monastery, the bright intensity of its colors.

But she is gone, and he can see the grayscale already fading in again at the corners of his vision.

"No..." he whispers. His voice sounds choked in his throat. "No." Somehow he always believed, deep down, that something would come to save her, that they would find some way to make everything all right. "NO!" He falls to his knees, burying his fingers in the ashes; his palms blister in the lingering heat.

"NO. NO. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO NO NO NONONONONONO!"

He's screaming, he realizes distantly. Sobbing too. Everything has snapped; every ounce of the control that he wears like armor has vanished. He feels detached from his body, unreal, numb with grief. The tears pour down his face, blinding him.

It isn't fair. After everything they have been through, everything Karlach suffered, it isn't fair that this is how she ended, without even a body to bury in the city she loved. It isn't fair that he will never hold her again, never feel her arms around him, never protect her and be protected by her, never see the world at her side, never... never... never...

The world is so cold without her warmth.

"Gods, please... please come back to me!" he howls into the uncaring ocean view. "I can't... I can't..."

The first paroxysm of anguish starts to fade. He collapses forward on his elbows and knees, his face pressed into his fists, and sobs.

In the monastery, they taught him there was no pain that discipline and prayer could not soothe. They were wrong. He knows now just how wrong they were.

"The Moonmaiden sees me… no grief nor pain nor fury shall wrest me from her path…" He whispers the mantra brokenly, instinctively, desperate for the comfort it has brought him in other moments. But there is no comfort to be found even in Selune's light, not for this.

He is alone.

But no... not completely alone. A hand touches his shoulder softly; a form crouches gently at his side. Shadowheart. He can see the sympathy in her eyes, the compassion and shared pain.

"Come here," she says softly, and opens her arms to him, as he did to her after the House of Grief. And as she did then, he falls sideways into her embrace, presses his face into her shoulder and cries bitterly. Her armor feels cold after the furnace heat of Karlach's destruction, but the hug is tight and fierce and she rocks gently side to side, holding him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers.

His voice is hoarse, almost inaudible. "It hurts..."

"I know... I know..." She looks up. The others are watching at a distance - those who remain, anyway. Astarion is gone into the shadows, Lae'zel to the Astral. Gale is crouched by Wyll's unconscious body, but his eyes are fixed on the back of Hector's head, unblinking. Minsc, his face drawn tight with regret, is standing a little closer, Boo balanced on one fist.

And Jaheira closes with them, moving to sit on Hector's other side. The druid rests a hand on Hector's back just above where Shadowheart's arms hold him. "Silvanus guide the light to the source," she murmurs. "Take her to what she justly deserves. By nature's will, what was given is returned. What was turmoil is now peace..."

Hector draws a long, slow, shuddering breath.

"May the Moonmaiden's light follow her into the dark," Shadowheart says softly. Her voice is still a little unsteady on the Selunite prayer, but she knows Hector needs to hear it. "The silver light always at her back..."

He swallows, sits up slightly, not pulling away from either woman's touch. They are grounding him, drawing him back to himself, and his heart rate begins to calm, the sobs slowing to unsteady, hiccuping breaths. "Perhaps," he whispers hoarsely, "perhaps had I served Shar, it would be easier... I would be prepared for such loss..."

He can feel Shadowheart give a single, sharp shake of the head.

"Do not think it," Jaheira says, her voice low. "You would be empty. It is no better. The grief carries all the meaning of what was; it is the love with nowhere left to go. In time it will be bearable, cub."

He does not want it to be bearable. He wants it gone. He wants her back. He wants the hole in his heart filled back in.

"My Lady..." he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. "See her soul as it travels outward. Take it where mine would go, I beg you."

Karlach once said that she liked the thought of her soul spreading out through the world, becoming part of it. He liked the thought too, for she was always full of life and loved the world so deeply, with such fierce devotion...

But he knows the truth, as it was taught to him. She will go to the Fugue Plane to be judged. And if no god fights for her soul, she will exist in limbo forever, trapped in another unending wasteland.

"Take her to you, My Lady... please. In my place, if you must, but do not leave her forgotten..."

----

Some months later, he and Jaheira travel at Withers' behest to a gathering outside the city.

It has been a good half-year, all things considered. The city is starting to rebuild, to regain some semblance of its former life. Hector has been hard at work among the Harpers, lending his strong back to building projects and his counsel to those in need of it.

He's filled out with new muscle and a sense of pride in the Gate. Jaheira has noted it more than once - with surprise, given that he once lived in such isolation from the city's life. But they both know, truly, where that pride stems from. Karlach could not live to see her city flourish again - so Hector must see it for her.

In his pocket always he carries the three copper coins Jaheira delivered to him a few days after the brain fell. Sometimes he listens to the message recorded on them. More often, he simply places a hand against them when the loneliness threatens to overwhelm him, feeling the soft warm buzz of the enchantment on them and imagining he can almost feel Karlach's touch.

Withers finds him wandering away from the party, late in the evening, and addresses him without preamble, grave as ever.

"Thou feelst it still," the skeleton says, with something oddly like kindness. "She is not here. She who means the most. Hast thy thoughts been with brave Karlach often?"

Yes. Of course they have. He doesn't speak of it much to Jaheira and the others, and he has tried to move on - and some days he can almost manage it. But her loss always sits in the back of his mind, inescapable. Every moment of victory bears its quiet reminder that she is not here to share it with him. Every failure brings the ache for her comfort and her warmth.

"I loved her so much," he says quietly. "It isn't fair."

"No," Withers says placidly. "It is not."

He feels a sudden tightness in the back of his throat. He has not spoken of her aloud for so many weeks, but Withers of all people coming to him with kindness brings the feelings rushing back, stinging into his eyes. "I don't know how I can go on without her," he mutters.

Withers's dessicated lips curl in a slight smile. "She battled in Avernus, fueled on naught but hope," he says. "And that hope came to become truth. In but a dozen tendays, an entire life was lived. More than mortal years-- mortal centuries were hers." He gives a slow nod in acknowledgment of Hector's grief. "Thou might endure a great eon of mourning. But thou must hope, as once she did. Her life... her happiness... was you."

Great, now he really is going to cry. That strain in his throat is rapidly forming into a lump that makes it difficult to speak. "And she was mine..." he whispers.

"Thy life was hers for a while," Withers says gently. "It is now thine again. Live it well." He reaches out a hand and rests it on Hector's shoulder. It is light and skeletal and bears no warmth, but it goes with the intensity Withers suddenly has in his expression.

"In the Fugue Plane," he says, "her soul burns so bright, it pains the gods to look upon. Recall that in time, all changeth and all is rejoined. Thou shalt be with her again."

Hector feels something tight come loose in his chest, and he nods unsteadily. These are not empty words; this is Jergal speaking, not Withers. This is, perhaps, the only voice available to him that could tell him truly what he needs to know - that Karlach is not lost to him, nor beaten into dim submission by the wasteland of the Fugue.

She is still bright. And she is waiting for him. And one day, when he has brought her city back to life, he will go to find her.

[feralkwe]

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

(hahahaha ouch, but you've handed me the keys to explore something, so bear with me as i cbf to look up the cutscene again right this minute, and i'm doing my best to remember this conversation, having just watched it the other day.)

It wasn't until she heard G'raha's pained cry that Kit slowed her steps up the Crystal Tower stairs. She spun about, chest heaving with the breaths of their exertions. Elidibus was likely at the top of the tower, so why were they stopping now?

"I'm afraid you'll have to go on without me," he said from his position on the ground. "Find Elidibus, and end this."

Kit looked at him there on the floor, limbs akimbo beneath himself as he rubbed at the crystal slowly encroaching upon his body. He was not a tall man, and she was a much taller Viera woman, but in that moment he somehow looked smaller than she'd ever noticed. Like the pain wracking him was diminishing him before her eyes.

Pain. Everything that hurt her now--the ways she threw herself into danger again and again believing his lie that she would be fine, the very dire circumstances that held her friends' lives in the balance as their bodies deteriorated on the Source, and the fact that she was once again being forced to kill a very damaged man--could be traced back to him. Even as he aided her now in what she knew must be done, she resented him for it. Resented that he once again put her in a position to be the only solution to his problem. She watched him as her teeth ground together until she was certain she'd make dust of them. Perhaps it was not his fault she'd been forced to kill Emet-Selch. Perhaps he'd not intended to endanger everyone she cared for. Perhaps, even, he had believed she would survive all he asked of her, and that everything would resolve as he claimed. But even now, a great threat hanging over them once again, she felt cornered.

She must have watched him too long, as he asked, "What is it, my friend?"

She couldn't stop herself. "Why me? Was there ever a time you even considered another option?"

He blinked up at her, having the audacity to look surprised. "How can you ask me such a thing?" His eyes focused intently on her, his expression so earnest that she knew beyond a doubt that he believed every word which was about to come out of his mouth. How he never wavered from his faith that she could and would be the salvation he sought for this world. How he devoted all he was to his people. That always was this path clear to him. Never did he believe it would fail. Never did he believe there was any other way forward.

"Elidibus said much the same thing," she told him, her words soft and gentle for all their ferocity.

His mouth dropped open, and for a few of her quickened heartbeats, he seemed at a loss for a response. "How curious," was all he managed.

"Curious, indeed." She looked to the sky, the vortex of the firestorm raining destruction down upon them. She did not like it, and something in her heart knew she would one day regret this act too, but she understood there was no other way out than to kill Elidibus. "I have to go." She frowned down at him. "Will you be alright here?"

"I am not quite so helpless as that," he assured her. "I have a few tricks, but I will not play my trump card save in your presence. I will see you succeed, and then I will see to it that you and your friends are returned to the Source."

She believed he meant that, and all of her anger aside, she could not help but love him, at least a little, for all he was willing to sacrifice to keep that promise. After all, if she could see the acts of Emet-Selch and Elidibus as acts of love, then she must be able to see his as such, too.

Still, it could not erase everything he'd done. “I believe you, and everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

If he said anything else in response, she did not hear it. She was already running to hurtle herself into bringing about yet one more death she knew she would live to mourn.

[jonfucius]

Great Star Trek Rewatch - TNG Season 2

Originally posted on Twitter 17 March 2021 - 6 April 2021

Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 2 is up next in my Great Star Trek Rewatch. As with ENT, DSC, STX, TOS, TAS, TOS FF, and TNG Season 1, mini-reviews will document my progress.

The Child: A reused Phase 2 script gives Troi a unique pregnancy story, though I don’t like the loss of bodily autonomy. Still, it’s hard not to feel a little sad when Ian “dies.” Pulaski is instantly dislikable yet charismatic, a testament to Muldaur’s performance. 7/10

Where Silence Has Lease: I really dig the surreal scenes aboard the pseudo-Yamato, and the philosophical discussion about death later in the episode. The episode swings and hits, but it’s a single. 7/10

Elementary, Dear Data: Everyone loves a period romp, and a it’s Sherlock Holmes romp to boot. Moriarty is a compelling villain, whose motivation mirrors that of Data’s: what does it mean to be human? 8/10

The Outrageous Okona: A romantic farce with the dashing titular character at the center. I can see why Billy Campbell was both a finalist for, and ultimately passed over for, the role of Riker. It would’ve been great to see Whoopi Goldberg and Joe Piscopo trade jokes. Alas. 6/10

Loud As A Whisper: I appreciate the deaf representation, but the denouement leaves something to be desired. I’m fascinated by the idea of Riva’s chorus, however. A grisly scene in an otherwise tame series really drives home the danger into which Riva is going. 7/10

The Schizoid Man: Intriguing concept that is strung out far too long. Props though to the late W. Morgan Sheppard and Susie Plakson, who makes her Trek debut as Dr. Selar. 6/10

Unnatural Selection: This one hits a little differently in a post-COVID world. I don’t care for rapid aging stories, however. I do appreciate the somber tone at the end, with Pulaski’s voiceover paying tribute to the Lantree’s crew. 6/10

A Matter of Honor: I love this episode. It’s top-notch from the top down. Riker’s sojourn aboard a Klingon ship gives us some much-needed insight into the franchise’s most iconic aliens. Klag is one of my favorite guest characters. 10/10

The Measure of a Man: Another standout episode from this season that shows just how high Star Trek can go when it wants to. If you have access to the TNG Blu-rays, make sure to watch the reconstructed extended edition as well. 10/10

The Dauphin: After two standout episodes we get a dud. I don’t like the implication that Salia’s worth as an individual was directly tied to her appearance. 4/10

Contagion: The episode does a ton of worldbuilding without being tiresome. The stakes are high, with the destruction of the Yamato (RIP Capt Varley) and the Romulans investigating. The gag of Picard appearing on the warbird’s bridge, and his parting shot, is a great capper. 8/10

The Royale: The surreal style is reminiscent of “Spectre of the Gun,” but I still think that entry is the stronger of the two. Still, it’s a decent, off-beat entry that has somewhat disappeared from the franchise. 6/10

Time Squared: A small time jump sets this one apart from most time travel stories. The knowledge that this could have led into “Q Who?” is a bummer, since the anomaly ended up being pointless. Nice callback to “We’ll Always Have Paris,” and foreshadowing of the next episode. 7/10

The Icarus Factor: I wish Worf’s B-story and Riker’s A-story could have been swapped, because the former is far more compelling and less repetitive. 6/10

Pen Pals: The debate about the Prime Directive is meaty and well worth watching, which grows organically from Data’s communications with Sarjenka; the conclusion to Wesley’s subplot also easily melds with the main storyline. 7/10

Q Who?: In a petulant fit, Q tosses our heroes into the path of the enigmatic Borg. Great things have small beginnings, indeed. The Borg’s horrific relentlessness is on display here. 9/10

Samaritan Snare: The Pakled are a swing and a miss. I love Picard’s scenes with Wesley, however. And I don’t fully buy Picard’s sudden vain streak. 5/10

Up the Long Ladder: Hoo boy the Irish stereotypes. The pro-choice message gets a little lost in the shuffle, as well. 5/10

Manhunt: Lwaxana Troi haters can back off; she’s a delightful change of pace. Worf’s admiration of the Antedeans always cracks me up. 7/10

The Emissary: K'Ehleyr is one of the greatest Klingon characters ever written or performed, and her chemistry with Worf is off the scales. The Klingon sleeper ship concept is intriguing, and shows how much the galaxy has changed in the decades between TOS and TNG. 8/10

Peak Performance: This is just a fun, plot-driven action piece. Wesley's sneaky antimatter gambit, Riker's glee in playing pirate against the Enterprise, and the fooling of the Ferengi make for a fun outing. Guile, indeed. If only the season had ended here. 9/10

Shades of Gray: The use of barely-relevant scenes from previous outings makes the clip-show nature of this one stand out even more. I'm giving it a generous 3 points for the three days it took to film the "new" material, which is actually not horrible. 3/10

And with that, TNG Season 2 comes to an end in my Great Star Trek Rewatch. Final score: 6.86/10. Highest score(s): “A Matter of Honor,” “The Measure of a Man.” Lowest score(s): “Shades of Gray.”

[hsr-texts]

I made another HSR oc so I hope you don't mind me putting his mini lore here. I just made him a couple minutes cuz I remembered that HSR canonically has social media (probably) sooo-

Social Media Influencer OC anyone?

~~~

Name: Yuhang

Pronouns: He/Him

Path: Destruction

Element: Quantum

~~~

Yuhang is a famous Social Media Influencer. Even outside the Loufu he is popular and talked about sometimes. As all social media influencers are, it took him awhile to rise up to where he is now, but as a long life species he had plenty of time. Some people enjoy what he does, the content he posts aren’t much. Some photos of himself, some of him promoting something, saying something inspiration (and other things, tbh idk what a social media influencer does in full-) However others think he’s let the popularity get to his head, while his fans thinks he’s just your average influencer that just so happens to have a big following

(But of course no OC is complete without trauma y’know)

Both are incorrect, to some degree (mainly his haters) Yuhang honestly hates attention, having eyes on him and having people treat him differently due to his “status”

So why did he become an influencer if he knew there was a chance this would happen? His younger sister. During an attack where many mara stuck monsters invaded, he was desperate to find his sister to take her to safety, if only he was fast enough then he wouldn’t have to have seen his sister dead.

A funeral was held and after it, he was allowed to look through some of his sister's items to keep as a memory. As he looked around, a diary fell out of a bookshelf (her room was preserved until this day) and landed on a certain page. One of the passages caught his eye.

“When I’m older. I want to be famis, to bring peeple motivation to continu on. To show everyone life is worth it and to follow there dreams. Is that cheesy? Maybee, but I want to help my broter to be more confident, so we can be famis togeter”

Despite her obvious spelling mistakes as she is young, Yuhang was able to comprehend what she wrote. He didn’t think he’d ever get over his fear of being looked at. But…

And that’s how it started, although it wasn’t his sisters final wish, it was a fish she had, a wish she wanted to do to in hopes to make others happy. And if she was going to be happy if she saw her brother cracking out of his shell? He was willing to put away his fears.

He never expected to be popular but he continued, and deep down he hoped that wherever his sister was watching him. That she was proud.

He never got over his fear, but he hides it well when he’s out and about. At home though he’s more like his usual quiet self as he writes stories and poetry.

His “online” personality is an energetic yet laid-back man. Always willing to help and wants to look on the bright side of things. His content shows this as well usually.

His more real self is, as I said. A quiet person, he’s more soft spoken and enjoys his alone time.

~~~

Honestly I love him alr despite me creating him just today. I should probably work on him and Aniya more before creating another one shouldn't I...

-🫧

Aww how lovely! He reminds me of the oc I'm working on actually!

Except she's not from Xianzhou and is from Perlas, a sea planet based off of the Philippines.

I'm still working out the specifics but I have a general idea now thanks to everyone's posts :D

[martianbugsbunny]

We Are Mandalorians: Our Love Must Be Forged (An AxePaz Fic)—Chapter 2A

*maniacal laughter* I couldn’t pick what tone I wanted for the scene where Axe and Paz fight on the skiff, so I did two!! Muahahaha! 2A is a little heavier on releasing some genuine anger (but it ends well, don’t worry) and 2B is a bit more fun and flirtatious. This is the only point where I’m doing a split like this, so there’s no need to worry about the fic diverging later on.

Read both if you want to pick your favorite, or if you just find both intriguing. Read one if you don’t like the sound of the other one or you don’t have time to read both. Read neither if you’re not interested. It’s all about options, that’s the point, so read on in whatever combination you like and have fun!

The landing had definitely been smoother than Axe was expecting it to be. Despite Din Djarin and Bo-Katan both assuring the entire party before takeoff that the air wasn’t poisoned and the planet wasn’t cursed, the part of Axe that had watched the destruction of the planet in person all those years ago had doubts.

But when the older Mandalorians had arrived on their piecemeal skiff, Axe had finally accepted the truth: hope was possible. Mandalore really could be his home again. He pulled off his helmet, breathing in deeply, allowing himself to revel in the fact that his boots were once more on Mandalore’s surface.

Paz Vizsla stared at him, then shook his head and boarded the skiff. Even that couldn’t dampen Axe’s mood. So what if Paz thought he was an unfit Mandalorian? Paz had no more authority to make that judgement than anyone.

After about half an hour on the skiff, Axe noticed Paz staring at him again. “Hey! You got a problem?” he called across the deck. “I’d be happy to listen to your complaint, Son of the Watch!”

Paz turned and muttered something to a friend with a bright green helmet. “You look like a man who has had too much to drink, Nite Owl,” Paz returned. His voice carried without raising in volume. “I have my doubts you will be of any use on this mission.”

Axe crossed the deck in a couple of quick strides. It was his turn to go up, chest-to-chest, with his rival and not back away. He tilted his head back to look Paz in the visor. “And you look like a man who has no emotion,” he said. “Perhaps your heart is as rusted out as the Great Forge must be!”

The Nite Owls laughed. Axe crossed his arms, although there was barely enough room between him and Paz to do it. He raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

Paz stood just a little bit straighter, which somehow made him taller than before. “My heart is solid beskar,” Paz said. “Mandalorian to the core. Not overemotional and flighty as you are. I would not trust you to keep your wits in battle.”

“I wouldn’t trust you not to abandon your fellow warriors in the heat of the fight,” Axe countered.

Paz clenched a fist, as if weighing whether or not it would be worth it to knock Axe to the deck. “What do you say we settle this with a game of strategy?” he offered. “I win, you stop watching my every move and leave my people alone.”

Watching your every move? Axe thought. Look who’s calling the kettle black. “And if I win?”

“That won’t be an issue.”

The other Mandalorians hastily cleared a path as Paz and Axe crossed over to the side of the skiff where a chessboard was attached to the deck. A small container bolted to the table’s side held all the pieces. Axe guessed it was probably the only source of entertainment for the old Mandalorians who had been stuck on the planet, judging by how worn-down the pieces were.

Axe set up the board. He tried to ignore the way Paz sat, large and imposing, across from him. “You move first,” Axe said. “It won’t matter, I can still beat the pants off you.”

He couldn’t help noticing several of his own friends snickering behind him at his choice of words. Grow up, he wanted to snap. “Go ahead,” he prompted again. “I’m waiting.”

Paz was, to Axe’s severe annoyance, a rather clever chess player. Better than Axe, he hated to admit. (He would rather lick rocks than ever say that in earshot of Paz, but it was true.) So, although he was well aware that there were different rulesets for the game across different Mandalorian coverts, even within the same ones, Axe called out one of the moves that wasn’t Nite Owl-standard, to hell with whether or not it was a legitimate move in some sects.

“You can’t move an Enforcer like that,” Axe said.

“It’s a flank jump,” Paz said, with the tone of someone explaining an obvious concept to a stubborn ox. “And you’re about to submit.”

The anger lingering in Axe’s chest overcame him and he couldn’t help himself arguing. “But only the Wing Guard can flank jump,” he said shortly.

“The Enforcer moves like a Wing Guard when it’s flanking,” Paz said. Axe remembered reading that in a comprehensive rulebook once; he didn’t care. The fury in him took over as a response to Paz’s posture—he was arrogant, and he thought he was so right.

“These primitives make up their own rules for everything,” he said, before he could think enough to not. The Children of the Watch standing behind Paz all tensed.

Paz stood, more threat than man, and pulled his vibroblade from its sheath on his arm. “Submit or fight,” he said.

“Well, if those are my choices….” Axe fired up his jetpack to launch a flying kick at Paz. He ducked out of the way and Axe landed back on the deck, now more attuned to his opponent’s speed capabilities. He moved faster with the huge jetpack attached to his back than Axe expected, but not as fast as Axe.

Paz took a few experimental swipes with his vibroblade, which Axe dodged easily. He pulled out his own knife and they parried no less than a dozen strikes in quick succession, sparks flying. Axe almost had a window when Paz elbowed him directly in the neck—he stumbled, then retaliated with a blow to Paz’s gut.

When Paz threw him to the deck, Axe shot out a metal cable from his right gauntlet and brought Paz down with him. Both of their vibroblades fell to the deck with a sharp clang, and Axe knew the second he picked one of them up that it wasn’t his.

Before either he or Paz could give a proper stab with their swapped knives, the Djarin foundling stepped between them. Axe suddenly noticed Bo-Katan Kryze standing at the bow of the ship, watching silently. He stepped back, away from Paz, still glaring at him.

More irritating than anything, than Paz’s attitude or his own self-awareness of how childish he was being, was that Paz was a good fighter. The duel had fed the beast of rage within Axe and stirred the other one; the one he had tried to ignore; the one that screamed Be impressed with his skill!

Paz didn’t move to return Axe’s blade. He holstered it in his gauntlet and turned away from Axe. Axe felt his eyes widen, but didn’t say anything about it. If Paz hadn’t noticed, far be it from him to bring it up. Instead, he put Paz’s knife away in the sheath attached to his own belt. It fit perfectly.

Axe sighed heavily and sat back down at the chess board, staring out at the surface of the planet.

[lediz-watches]

Masters of War

I just have a lot of feelings about the Silent Hill games, okay?

I’m liveblogging The Winchesters as a Supernatural!virgin. Please keep my lack of knowledge in mind if you continue...

In episode thoughts:

Ooh, hey, silent hill

Really silent hill

Dude looked at the spear too often. Bad ending.

Oh, Mary, you discount Buffy you. I love it.

Ah, so this is going to be the Vietnam War episode. Cool.

Oh, Carlos honey. CARLOS. Also, that was not a hetero-mating ritual, and I expect better recognition from you, thank you.

Not sure I buy Carlos being allowed to serve without getting court martialled almost immediately, unless he has some phenomenal acting skills we don’t know about (or his recruiting/conscripting officer was an incredibly closeted and resentful jerk who signed him on as some kind of punishment… oh, god, there are so many fics about how Carlos got forced into it, aren’t there? There are rape parallels aren’t there? Oh gawd) but sure, we carry on.

Well. That Maggie’s Room thing was ham-fisted.

How’s that PTSD going John?

…This show forgets it’s in the 70s so often. Mary should not be able to take the lead in this hospital. Lata should not have been the person that nurse spoke to. You can’t do this to me in an episode so aggressively based in the 70s, show!

SILENT HILL FOR JOHN. YES! GET THEE TO THE FOG, BOY. God knows you’ve got the violence in you.

…Millie likes a man in uniform. But again, Carlos, can’t buy you actually saw service before they kicked you out. You are not subtle and you didn’t want to be there. Not buying this backstory, my friends.

Ah, jail or service… and medic… I can… ehh. I’ll accept it. Sure. Whatever. Not paying full price though.

SILENT HILL. Carlos is reading the lore, John’s chasing the other victims! And getting the associated shaky reactions.

Carlos is gonna make it out of Silent Hill. (His actor deserves a slower show in a contemporary timeline where they can actually play this story out properly, by the way.)

NO SILENT HILL STAY AWAY FROM CARLOS. HE’S ADDRESSING HIS PROBLEMS. YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM. TAKE JOHN INSTEAD.

Oh good, it’s at least taking John as well.

Again, I feel like there’s something going on in John’s story that I don’t have context for. This episode feels like foreshadowing of some kind. Can you foreshadow in a prequel? Call forward? My point is, it feels like it’s speaking to an audience that I am not.

WAY TO GO MILLIE. We love a practical human.

Oh, John, that’s how you get the bad ending… You’ve totally claimed that helmet you know. You did not win that fight. Silent Hill won. You lost. Well done. You’re going back to that fog.

…So is this going to be a recurring theme of Carlos watching people slide down the evil slope or…?

Carlos, sweetheart, please end this series by walking away from Mary and John and their darkness. You are not going to save them.

…man, I want to see another Silent Hill game. I do not want Kojima to have anything to do with it, but I really want another Silent Hill game.

Anyway. Yeah. This episode felt like it was speaking to issues dealt with—or at least was showcasing issues that Dean and Sam had to deal with the consequences of—in the main series. And I suspect this is going to be a recurring problem, because it’s a problem with prequels in general. You can’t resolve issues. Character arcs aren’t going to be entirely positive ones. Because like…

Like what I’m getting here is that John is not a character who feels like he’s going to be redeemed. This episode didn’t feel like the start of a flirtation with darkness, so much as a first step on a path toward destruction. Like a character whose only way out will inevitably end with sacrifice because fiction doesn’t believe in actual recovery and redemption.

I’m not a huge fan of that trope. BUT HEY I HAVE BEEN WRONG BEFORE. CHAPTER FIVE.

(or back to chapter one if you care.)

[sevendeadlymorons]

If I can squeak in with a request, I would like to see the guys with a MC (I'm female but no specified gender feels more inclusive) who needs to be rescued from a situation - demons, mortal peril and for what situations would cause the brothers to go absolutely forking batshirt from Satan to Mammon. Claws out so to speak.

Yes, ma’am~

Brothers Reaction to MC Needing to be Saved From a Demon

WARNING: NSFW // Gore and Violence

—————————————

Lucifer

He’s pretty good with keeping his composure but there obviously can be times where all hell is let loose when he gets angry

Hearing you were in danger is one of those situations as he feels himself getting furious; 4 large dark wings ripping out of his back as he starts to transform and push his brothers aside to get to you as quick as possible

Rushes over as fast as he can to your location and jumps right into the scene, wasting no time as he begins to rip apart the demon who dare decided to lay their claws on you

Their limbs were torn off as you see a single arm lay bloody at your side, Lucifer quickly finishing them off and rushing towards you to inspect you then pull you into a terrified embrace

Stands there holding you for a while, thankful he got there in time

You unfortunately got a scolding as soon as you got home for wandering off though

Mammon

Mammon always has you on high alert. He’s the one who is at your side quickest when you’re in trouble

So hearing you were being attacked, he was quick to transform, fangs snarling and claws sharp as he rushes to your location

Hears you scream when he gets to your location and before you even saw him, he was at the helpless demons throat, ripping them to shreds like it was a hunk of meat

You sat there as you watched him destoy the demons body, his hands still trembling when he finishes and walks over to you to hold you tightly, scared shitless that he could’ve lost you

Honestly, the sad moment didn’t last very long as he grabs you by the shoulders and starts shaking you, asking you why you just disappeared on him like that

He regrets letting you see him like that but he’d do anything to keep you safe

Leviathan

He was a little timid but it wasn’t a lie when he says he’d do anything to keep you safe

So when he heard you were in danger, he rushed to where you were, panicking and with absolutely no plan in his mind, but he just knew he had to save you

Seeing you be handled by that demon caused something to snap in him as he transforms into his demon form and attacks the demon head on, wrapping his tail around their throat and pulling off their limbs one by one until they suffocate and bleed out right in front of you

Levi runs over to you, tripping over due to all the adrenaline rushing through him and tackles you into a tight hug, relieved that you’re safe

Sits with you for a while to control his breathing and comfort you from what just happened

He guides you home by the hand, hoping you don’t see him differently after watching him do that

Satan

He’s a terrifying and irrational demon when he’s angry, everybody knows that, so attacking someone he loves would be suicide

The house fell silent when Satan heard you were being attacked by an unknown demon and it wasn’t long before he created a path of destruction on his way to help you

Once the demon locked eyes with him, hand on your wrist and attempting to pull you away, it was all over as he lunges forwards, his claws pushing through their eye sockets, ripping their head in two as blood sprays everywhere

His fingers and face were covered in rich red blood as he turns to comfort you as best as he could in his deranged state

He pulls you in to his chest, stroking your hair and shushing you in an attempt to calm you down and himself down

On the walk home, he reminds you not to wander off again because shit like that happens

Asmodeus

Like Mammon, he was calm and protective of the people he loved, and it was rare for him to ever want to get his hands dirty

So after hearing about how you were in danger, it was surprising to his brothers when the atmosphere of the house completely changed when Asmo decided to seek you out and save you

Seeing the demon touch you inappropriately and try to take you away set him off as he pushed them down and thrusted his hand into their chest, quickly pulling out a still beating heart and crushing it in his hand

He turns around to hug you, his face covered in crimson blood as he rubs it onto your neck accidentally in the moment, his heart racing in his chest as he holds you closer

Checks you over, asking if you’re alright, then goes back to holding you

Complains about how messy he is on the way home

Beelzebub

Beel has always stayed calm and peaceful for your sake

But when he heard you’d been taken by a demon, all that tranquility and peace disappeared as he went on a rampage to find you, his demon form appearing swiftly

He wastes no time when he sees you being handled by the strange demon, running full speed at the demon and trapping them underneath him, sinking his teeth into their flesh and ripping it clean off the bone

You could only stare in shock as you watch the Avatar of Gluttony live up to his name, devouring the demon alive and leaving only bones in its place

He licks his lips clean when walking towards you, his face going back to its calm and sweet side as soon as he sees you unharmed

Carries you home bridal style, holding you tightly so nobody else can ever touch you again

Belphegor

It’s no mystery that he’s no stranger to murder, and at this point, the man would kill for you if one lousy demon even looked in your direction

Hearing you were being attacked by a demon woke him up immediately as his only mission in the moment was to save you and spill blood

It didn’t take long to find you and it took an even shorter time to take care of the demon as his hands wrapped around the helpless demons throat, squeezing the air out of them as his tail starts to effortlessly rip off their limbs and throw them behind him

Belphie continued to wreak damage to the demons body, ripping his claws through their chest like paper

Takes you in his arms as soon as he finishes, resting his head on your shoulder and covering your eyes from the brutal scene he’d just created

Takes you home as soon as he can; hoping you won’t hate him now for letting you see his ugly side

Part 2 is here

I fucking loved writing this. I used to be a gore writer back when I was younger so this was such a throwback for me lmao

[tnystrk-exe]

Stress Relief

Warnings: implied sexual acts

Masterpost

Chapter One

Chapter Six

Felix kept talking and talking. Urging you to end it. This wasn’t good. Otto would leave you just like he had left his wife when you weren’t so pretty. Then what, you wasted the best years of your life on a mistake. Especially now that he knows he can dip in to the young ones and get them hooked. Now was the beginning of a path of destruction you could avoid, if you only listened to him at this moment. 

“No. I have faith in this. You don’t have to trust him, but I’m begging you to trust me,” you pleaded, gripping your uncle’s hand tightly in both of yours.

“Break it off with him,” he sighed, looking at you with concern, “It’s what’s for the best. We can go home tonight and leave all of this mess behind you.”

Blinking the tears from your eyes, you shook your head, “I’m following your advice. If I go with you, I’ll wonder for the rest of my life what he and I could have had. You don’t understand it, that’s fine. More than fine. Just give him a chance.”

“I’m not so convinced that what you told me was honest anymore,” with a defeated sigh, he gave your cheek a quick kiss, “When this is said and done with my shoulder’s open. I’m not going to stand around and watch this happen.”

When everything was over and Felix was long gone, you closed up the lab. Locking away everything that needed to be kept from prying hands. Taking your time, in hopes your own tears would dry soon and that Otto would return before you went looking. Unfortunately, the latter didn’t happen. 

“Derek, hi,” you smiled at the secretary on your way out, “Have you seen, Dr. Octavius?”

“Yeah, but he seemed upset. Weird for him right? Said something about going home.”

“Oh, um, there was some trouble in Manhattan. Major flaw I think. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He eyed you, tilting his head to the side as he studied your appearance. “Have you been crying?”

“No, my allergies are flaring up. Should have stayed home but you know Dr. Octavius only visits on Sundays. Have to come in.”

“Oh,” he looked unconvinced, “You’re usually more cheerful after these visits.”

“Huh? Am I?” You shrugged. “I really need to leave now. Forgot my meds at home.”

Sighing, you started your walk toward the apartment. Usually you’d drive, but the days Otto came you both liked the walk to transition from work to personal. It was calm, the world around you unchanged by what had happened. New questions swirled in your head. Things that were biting at your ear but you knew you shouldn’t let in. Other things you wouldn’t ask because it wasn’t your place, but couldn’t help wondering about. You understood, this wasn't a new relationship conversation. He’d hardly spoken of Rosalie so speaking of this was out of range entirely. You doubted he wanted to bring this up just yet. 

All the same, his reaction worried you. The bashing he suffered over the relationship along with dredging up old memories seemed like a horrible cocktail. It wasn’t a secret he had cold feet over the whole situation. There wasn’t any fairness in your doubt but you knew how fleeting the man was and it scared you. 

There he was, on the bench outside of your apartment building, slumped with his face in his hands. The years seem to way him down in a way you’ve never seen on him before. Nervously, you took a seat beside him. 

“Do you want to talk about it or sit for a while?”

No response. 

Instead he pulled a hand away from his face and grabbed one of yours. His palm slightly wet against yours and, if you listened very closely, there was a hitch to his breath. And so you sat there without a word. You watched as the sky turned from hues of orange and pink until it was dark and full of stars. Otto on the other hand, hardly moved an inch. 

It was getting late and starting to cool too much to be comfortable.

“Love?” You asked, quietly. “Can I take you home?”

“We missed our date.” He said suddenly, finally looking at you, eyes slightly red. 

“That doesn’t matter. We were still together.”

“This…” he coughed, clearing his throat, “This isn’t what I wanted. I wanted to take you out and show you how dear you are to me. Do something special.”

You wiped away the wetness from his cheeks. “I know well enough, Love. One date isn’t going to make me question or realize it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Absolutely not. There’s no reason to be.” You kissed the hand that was still gripping yours. “I love you and I want to be here anyway you need.”

“You must think I’m terrible,” he sighed out. “You should have heard from me. I-I’ve wanted to tell you but the time wasn’t right.”

“Never. You weren’t ready just yet. I respect that. Felix was way out of line today. He can be angry all he likes, but that was too much. I’m sorry about him. Though, I didn’t exactly imagine he’d take it well. Didn’t expect that…”

“YN, if this relationship is already damaging others maybe… it’s not…” he stopped, looking at you as if the next words from his mouth would kill him, “…I’m too selfish…”

Your heart dropped, already feeling the beginnings of pain in your throat, “You're… you’re too selfish?”

“I am…” he sighed, “To leave again? Willingly? I already know what it’s like to be love and be loved by you, how could I ever give that up? Unless you ever demanded it.”

You laughed as you stood, tugging his hand to urge him to follow, “Good, I wouldn’t have let it happen and no one here would ever demand such a thing from you. Come on, baby, let’s go upstairs, get cleaned up, and get in our nice comfy bed. It’s been a long night.”

He stood, his hand coming up to caress your jaw. “I want to tell you, but I can’t figure out the words.”

“Take your time. We aren’t in any rush.” You kissed his cheeks, “I’m very grateful for any pieces of your life you’d like to share with me and every future memory we create together. For better or worse.”

“For better or worse?” He let out an amused breath finally cracking a small smile.

You smiled with him, catching the wording. “Well, I don’t think I’d mind a husband too much, eventually, but we are getting ahead of ourselves.”

-

After that missed date Otto had been insistent on taking you out or making you a lovely dinner himself. Today though, was a beautiful day and you took it upon yourself to pack up a lunch while he slept. It was a rare Monday off for the both of you, so he decided to stay and make his way back later tonight. Even more rare, he slept late into the afternoon, but you were glad for it he hardly ever allowed himself to stop. 

Arms wrapped around your torso as you chopped up fruit. He mumbled a good morning into your hair. His voice was still rough from sleep so he must’ve looked for you right away. 

“Morning, baby. Slept well?”

“Mhm,” he hummed though, he’d probably agree to lay down longer if you suggested it. 

“There’s a nice little park by a pond I thought we could go to.”

“Sounds delightful. Anything you need me to do?”

“Got it all covered. I’m just getting the snacks and desserts ready now. There’s sandwiches too, but we’ll have to pick up the sushi on the way. I know you really like the spot down the street.”

“You spoil me. How am I ever going to want to leave now?”

“All a part of the plan, pretty boy. Go get dressed for me.”

He sighed as if parting from you were some great feat. Leaving a kiss at the base of your neck he managed to force himself to move away. You hummed to yourself and for a moment he stood by the doorway. Grabbing the basket you bought especially for the occasion, you started packing away the food and drinks. 

Interrupting your song, you asked if he’d like some wine or the scotch he was so fond of. He’d been stuck on teaching you what the good drinks were since he knew you still took to Mark to pick your drinks and his taste were terrible. 

He seemed somewhat off put when he answered, “Wine. Wine sounds great, my darling.”

You grabbed the wine glasses and set them in the basket. “Something the matter?”

“Not at all. Got distracted. I’ll get dressed.”

Making sure everything was in the basket, you went to sit it on the small living room table. Walking to your room, you went to get dressed yourself, still in your pajamas since you didn’t want to dirty the sundress you picked out. Changing into your day clothes quickly, you went over to the mirror to fuss with your hair. 

“You look beautiful,” Otto complimented, slipping on his shoes.

You looked at him in the mirror, smiling when he realized he was sporting a similar color scheme. “You’re the matching type?”

“Saw your dress, figured I had a decent enough match so why not? Unless you’d like me to change.”

“I think you look very cute. I’ve never matched with anyone before.” You walked over to him.

He toyed with the material of your dress between his fingers. “We'll do anything else you haven’t done and want to try. Nothing’s off the table.”

“I’ll think about some things,” you replied, “Do you like my dress?”

“It’s very pretty. Give me a spin?”

You did as asked. 

“Absolutely heartbreaking.”

“Not yours I hope.”

“Not mine, but everyone that catches sight of you is going to know they’re missing out. What a cruel little girl you are to do that to them.”

“But I already have the only heart I could ever want,” you said sweetly, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. Grabbing his hand you tugged on it, “C’mon, baby, I want to get some sun today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of denying you.”

After making the run for the sushi, you drove over to the park. There were only a couple cars there which meant it would be a relatively quiet day. Otto grabbed the basket and held your hand as you led him toward the small pond, hidden away behind trees. Together you set up the spread after laying out the blanket. 

“A little bit of everything,” you said a bit nervously realizing you may have overdone it, “I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for. So…”

“It’s perfect.” He sat on the blanket and offered you his hand to help you down. Once you were situated he kissed your knuckles, “Thank you. What a lovely way to spend the day.”

The two of you pecked at the food talking about everything and nothing all at once. Happy to hear whatever story the other would share and equally groaning at and grievances. Eventually his head ended up in your lap as he spoke, you had taken it upon yourself to add a couple of the little white flowers that were growing nearby into his curls. He was mid feeding you a strawberry dipped in chocolate spread as a hectic little voice yelled to watch out. Narrowly avoiding it, you managed to catch the soccer ball before it could hit Otto.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The little boy apologized as he ran over. He was colorful as can be in his overalls and rainbow shirt, along with different matching shoes. Different dinosaur stickers adorning his tiny body. “Is the mister alright?”

“The mister’s alright,” you confirmed, laughing. “Do you want your ball back?”

Otto smiled at him as he came to collect the ball. “It’s okay. Just an accident.”

The boy thanked you for the ball and sat it on the ground, looking over the spread in front of him. “Are you dating right now?”

“Yeah. We are,” you confirmed. 

He stared at Otto before crouching down and picking a flower of his own and attempted to place it in his own hair, huffing in annoyance when it fell. 

“Want me to help you out?” You asked, waiting for him to nod before picking one with a longer stem and placing it on his ear so it wouldn’t slip away again. “There you go kid.”

Otto turned his head toward the woods as he heard someone shout out a name. “I think your parents are looking for you.”

“Nope! They don’t know I’m gone! Mommy and daddy are working, but I’m a big boy so I can stay all alone. I’m not supposed to leave the house but it was boring today,” he said over explaining in the way children often did. “But they said I’m in charge! So I think it’s okay.”

“A big boy,” Otto said in disbelief not that the child would hear it, “And how old is the big boy?”

“Five! My names Daniel.”

“Five is a very big boy,” Otto nodded, “Say how come you aren't in daycare or with a babysitter, Daniel?”

“Oh! We don’t got a lot of money anymore. I used to be in daycare but daddy’s mommy got hurt and all the money was spent on medicine they said. But it’s alright. Even if sometimes there’s no food. Daddy’s mommy being better is more good.”

Otto’s anger seemed to calm at that. They were just a family going through a tough spot at the moment.

“Have you eaten today?” You asked.

He shook his head, “No.”

“Well, there’s plenty here,” you offered. 

“I can have some!” He said excitedly, before looking upset, “Wait. I can’t take stuff from strangers.”

“You’re right. Strangers are dangerous,” Otto confirmed sitting up, “but I’m going to speak with your parents later. Do you know what time they get home?”

“Mom gets home at three or four.”

Otto checked his watch, before looking at you, “That’s not that long. If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course it is.”

Daniel took a seat on the blanket, looking at the cupcakes with interest. 

You ruffled his hair, “You should eat a sandwich first, buddy. You can have a cupcake after but that sugar might upset your belly without anything else in it.”

“May I have a sandwich?” He asked politely. “Are they good?”

“We seem to think so,” Otto replied, grabbing a plate and sandwich, quickly setting it down in front of the child, “You can take out whatever you don’t like. It’s alright.”

“I can try it like this first,” Daniel picked up and took a bite before nodding happily, “It’s yummy.”

You cracked open a bottle of juice for him. “Glad you like it.” 

Daniel made a face to himself. Before looking at the stickers all over him. “Oh! Got it!” Examining himself carefully he picked out two stickers and went to place them on your and Otto’s cheeks. “Better! Now we’re all sharing! Now we got to cheers!” He held out his drink for you and Otto to clink your glasses of wine to his juice.

And so the conversation continued, this time a little less nuclear physics and more dinosaur trivia. Which shouldn’t have surprised you that Otto kept up easily, it seemed he had his own dino phase. Otto’s fondness for the child was more evident by the second. He was a sweet kid. You were just happy he ran into Otto and you instead of anyone else. After having lunch, the three of you played kicking around Daniel’s ball working off the sugar rush the cupcake and cookies threw him into. Monkey in the middle proved impossible for your and Daniel’s team up.

Daniel stood at Otto’s side. Measuring himself to the mid of Otto’s thigh. “Mister Otto, you're very tall.”

“You think so?” 

“Yeah!” He nodded, “Is it scary up there?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Yes please!”

Otto grabbed the small boy and placed him on his shoulders, putting his hands on Daniel’s feet to ensure he wouldn’t slip. “It isn’t so bad is it?”

“It’s a lot less windy when I’m littler,” Daniel notified him, holding his hands out, “I like it!”

You watched as Otto rushed forward, making the child on his shoulders squeal loudly in delight. They went on a small adventure through the clearing, Daniel pretending they were pilots looking around the earth for an important fossil. You let them go on their own, seeing how much Otto had been enjoying himself. Daniel buried his face into Otto’s hair, you noticed then that he had the same copper hue to his hair as Otto did in the sun. Felix’s words rang through your head once again. 

The topic hadn’t been approached since. 

But seeing him now he was basically a natural. Currently stuck in a circle of “Why?” and explaining it all diligently refusing to dumb the concepts down but making them easier for a child to understand. Daniel seemed to soak it all up easily. Now he was explaining why the sky looked blue as he rested his chin on Otto’s head. 

“The gas particles in the air. Sunlight passes through them, you know how rainbows are always in the same color?”

Daniel listed them in order.

“Smart boy! Now imagine so many small rainbows the sky is full of them. But depending on where the sun is red and blue are the easiest for those eyes of yours to see.”

“Oh! Okay! Um…” He took a deep breath thinking of another question, “Why does your hair smell like girl?”

Otto chuckled, “I’m sleeping over at my girlfriend’s and don’t care about those things as long as I’m clean and smell good. Besides, her stuff smells very good doesn’t it?”

The pair went on for a while until Daniel requested a snack. You were laid on the blanket, enjoying the sun when they finally joined you again. To your amusement, Daniel took it upon himself to use your arm as a pillow for his head.

“Hello, missus YN.”

“Hello again Daniel,” you smiled at him, “Had fun with Otto?”

“Mhm, he’s very smart and nice. People tell me to be quiet, but Mister Otto never did! I like him a lot.”

“I know!” Otto sat next to you, patting his thigh so you’d rest your head against it instead of the ground. “Nice and smart is exactly why I like him.”

“I thought people only date if they think they’re pretty.”

“Otto’s the prettiest boy ever, but he’d be a bit dull if I only thought he was pretty. Don’t you think?” You scrunched your nose at him playfully, “Just pretty is boring.”

“Just pretty is boring,” he repeated to himself, grabbing a handful of grapes and popping one of them into his mouth. “Okay. Why do you like her, Mister Otto?”

Otto chuckled, stroking your hair. “Let’s go with funny and stubborn being my absolute favorites.”

“Funny and stubborn?,” you deadpanned, “I’ll remember that, Dr. Octavius.”

“Sure you will, darling,” he fed you some pomegranate, “Funny because since we’ve started dating, I’ve smiled far more than I have in a while and, to be fair, the stubbornness is much more endearing as a memory.”

“And that stubbornness got us where we needed to be.”

“Which is why I like it,” He responded, flicking your nose. 

“So when you get bigger right? Do I need to get shots for cooties? Or is it like how I was allergic to shrimp and I’m not anymore? Like it goes away?” Daniel asked around a bite of fruit.

“Something like that,” you nodded, laughing.

Around three thirty, you and Otto started packing up your date turned babysitting session. Making your way out of the woods, letting Otto have a break you chased Daniel around on the playground. The pair of you laughed loudly as you jumped on and off the set to avoid being tagged. Otto watched amused as Daniel attempted to hide behind him, giggling wildly as you pretended not to know where he was. 

“I think he’s…” you walked around Otto, “Here!”

“No!” He yelled, running off again.

Otto grabbed you “trapping” you so that Daniel could make his escape. “Run! I can’t hold her for much longer!” He yelled, as you pretended to struggle. Though your struggling, when Daniel looked away, consisted of a quick kiss and asking if you could be freed.

Daniel made a dash up the slide before sliding back down, saying something about seeing his mom before running away. The woman, probably around your age, hugged him when he ran into her knees. She asked him questions when the boy pointed at you and Otto. He was telling her about all the fun he had had this afternoon. 

“Please don’t…” she didn’t know how to finish when you and Otto walked up, “I… God sorry, I was scared to death. He’s never left the home before. We usually have a neighbor keep an eye out but she forgot about him and left… Don’t call the cops.”

“We’re not going to,” Otto calmed her down, “I just wanted to talk about an option, if you’re up for it.”

She looked at him confused, “Hey, little man, why don’t you go play on the slides for a minute.”

“You said I was a big boy now!” He whined. 

“Daniel.”

Daniel made a face but did as told. 

“He told us about your situation to the best of his abilities. It’s no secret he’s lucky he ran into my partner and I instead of many alternatives. Look I know this may be over stepping, it must be, but I wanted to offer to cover the cost for his daycare until you get back on your feet or longer, if you like. I wouldn’t mind.”

“For what?” She asked skeptically, “We can’t give you anything.”

Otto brought out his wallet, handing her a business card. “We we’re in a bad way when I was growing up,” he shrugged, “I’m sure a little act of kindness could have made a world of difference for my mother and I. Talk about it with his father. If you agree, call tomorrow. Tell my assistant it’s about Daniel and we’ll set everything up. If you don’t, this is the end of it, but I hope it’s not.”

“We don’t ne-“

“Don’t think about this as a handout either, it’s just some help. He’s a curious kid, of course you know that better than we ever could, he may run out again.”

She looked at her son for a moment, sadly sitting on a swing while he looked at the group of adults. “I… we’ll think about it.”

“He’s a good kid. My boyfriend really does mean well,” you interjected, “He’s a good man there’s absolutely no twist in his words. He’ll back off the second you want him to. And you can send Daniel to any place you like, it doesn’t matter the cost as long as you think it’s a good fit and he’ll be well taken care of.”

The young mother looked at Otto, looking for his approval since he was the one that would handle the affair. 

“I’m not going to disagree. She knows better than anyone the things I spend money on. It would be nice to get a good result on it for once. Scrap metal and books haven’t been as rewarding lately.”

This time she and Otto actually talked. Whatever distrust she had there slightly but melting away with hope. 

Daniel tugged on your dress. “Missus YN, can I have another cookie?”

You smiled, couching down and looking through the basket. “Here, why don’t you keep these?” You gave him the containers of cookies and cupcakes, “Otto has to go back home tonight and I work very late. I’ll probably forget them and they’ll go bad. This way they aren’t wasted. Just make sure you share with your parents.”

“Oh really?” He looked a bit sad now. “I’m sorry.”

“What for, little guy?”

He dug through his pockets showing you a handful of crumbled cookie pieces. “I was lying. I wanted to give mommy and daddy some and you’re being nice.”

“All’s forgiven. You were watching out for your family.”

Daniel hugged you, “We’re best friends now.”

“Best friends,” you agreed, patting him on the back. “Couldn’t ask for a better one.”

“Alright Danny, we got to head back before dad gets home.”

“Aw,” he pouted, walking over to Otto with his hands full, “Hug me goodbye please.”

Otto chuckled but gave the boy a quick hug. “It was nice meeting you, dear boy.”

“They’re very nice, mommy,” he said as they walked away, “I know why the sky’s blue now!”

“That was kind of you, Love.”

Otto grabbed your hand and led you to a bench. You followed after him, taking a seat when he did.

“I always wanted a kid,” he started, watching the small boy leave the gate. “Not for reasons I should’ve at the time. Mostly, I wanted to stick it to my father, throw it in his face that it wasn’t so hard to be kind and loving. That’s selfish. Now I think it should be out of love and to nurture someone to become who they are.”

You nodded, “Those are good reasons. Spite isn’t for the best in that situation I don’t think.”

“Rosie and I were 27 when it happened. I found her in tears in the bathroom after work. Selfishly, I got excited when I found out, but she was so distraught I shoved it aside to comfort her. We didn’t tell anyone we knew in our immediate circle or families. She didn’t know if she wanted to keep it and I firmly believed it was her choice on the matter. That didn’t mean I didn’t have some hope her answer would be… All the same I spilled to Felix. Rosie couldn’t know my excitement, but a stranger she’d never meet felt like fair game. I never anticipated him having anything to do with my life once everything was over.”

“So then what happened?” You asked.

“It was about four months. Her stomach was hardly showing to anyone else but I knew her better than any of them,” he sighed looking up at the sky, “She started wearing baggy cardigans all the time to hide it away from students and coworkers. But everytime I caught a glimpse… that was something else… The then love of my life growing our child, I didn’t think it was possible to fall for her even more but it happened.”

He cleared his throat, seeming to struggle stringing together the next words.

“You don’t have to keep going. I know it’s hard.”

“No. I want you to know, I need a moment. It’s just… everything I’m saying feels unfair to you.”

“You’re older,” you stated with a shrug, “It would be naïve to expect you to not live your life before we met. I’m not upset, you were happy. That’s all I want. You being loved and happy is all that will ever matter to me.”

Otto looked at you for a moment trying to decide if you really weren’t upset. “One day I came home. The table was full of my favorites. So I thought it’s time I can finally be excited about our child with my wife. That was until I noticed she wasn’t her typical self. ‘Rosie. Is something the matter?’ ‘I had an abortion.’ I didn’t even get to be there to support her or get some closure. We never spoke about it after that, continuing as if nothing had happened…”

“You must have been angry.”

He shook his head, “Immensely, at first, I was still learning how to control my temper then, luckily I managed to keep it all self contained… It was more shock than anger, but at the time I was only used to extremes as expressions. I had hoped for a discussion at least, something to prepare myself for that blow… But she seemed so much happier after… Finally back to being my Rosie. Couldn’t bring myself to talk about it when she was so outwardly relieved to be rid of the cells or the parasite. I really wish she didn’t use the last term, but that’s my own fault I never voiced that I had some wish to see it though. In the end, her happiness mattered more than what could have been or whatever I made up. …All the same, I was grieving. Couldn’t help it. I talked to Felix while we worked, that made it easier.”

You fixed some stray hair away from his eyes. “Do you ever think of what could have been now?”

“I try not to. Figure it would never happen or be the same. After a while I came to the understanding that if it had been born, then Rosie would have left. That was the lowest I’ve ever seen her. Maybe to a different version of me that would be okay, but for the person I am right now, it’s unacceptable. She was everything for so long. The idea of life without her isn’t right. At least the one we shared together. Now I imagine we’re immensely different.” He gripped your hand in his own. “Didn’t imagine the possibility of you ever… None of this is pressuring you for children or the idea of them. It’s the first time I’ve managed to figure out how to say it all since then.”

“Yeah, I know, Otto. You’re not like that. But I can’t  say the idea hasn’t crossed my mind when Williams starts to gush over his own or watching you today,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tightly, “While I think you’d be good at it, now really wouldn’t be the time to entertain the thought. We hardly have enough time for each other, let alone a child, and I have to leave in a little under three months now for classes. And, if I can be frank, I would rather keep you to myself for a while before we put the hard thought into if we really want children together.”

“Then we’ll shelf this topic until you decide it’s the right time to speak about this or if we never do again. That’s fine too. Though we’ve hardly been avoiding getting any results from sleeping together, so we need to start taking precautions if we don’t want any mishaps to happen.”

“Oh,” you waved away his concern m, “We should be alright. I’ve been on the pill since that entire drama happened with Nico. I wouldn’t again obviously, but the panic of it being a possibility of having the kid of someone I hated scared the hell out of me. Slipped my mind you didn’t know. Risk taker aren’t you?”

“That’s not my fault,” He laughed, “I’m not exactly thinking about much more when you’re begging and kissing me for it. You can’t blame me for the actions of that man. He’s a complete idiot motivated by one thing alone.”

You knocked your knee against his playfully, “But he’s really really good at that thing.”

“Mhm, you may favor whining over speaking at those moments but I’d be surprised to get any complaint from you.” 

“Miss your train today, spend a little more time with me.”

“People are going to start talking. Before I hardly left unless there was a meeting or conference. Now, I come on your orders and stay until it’s too late.”

“Well they’ve started,” you admitted. 

“You didn’t tell me that,” he sighed, “I’m so sorry, I know you didn’t want that.”

“They can talk all they like. I don’t mind it. Felix’s visit was the tipping point, I think. They ask me if I’m excited before Sundays and how my nights were on Mondays. Williams hasn’t said anything, but he’s curious though, he’s asked if I knew you as a kid as casually as he could and looked extremely relieved when I said no.”

“That’s horrible.” Otto winced. “I hate that.”

“Mostly, I only cared about Felix’s opinion but that’s out of the bag and it didn’t go well. So what do the rest of the people I don’t care about matter. Not that I’m sure I care about it at all. Should have heard the last voicemail he left.”

“Oh darling, you should really stop listening to those. He’s been drunk every time, all he wants is to say things to hurt you.”

“He said I was choosing a man over him, how ungrateful I was because every opportunity he chose me. But I didn’t! I never would! He’s the one that pushed me to connect with you again. Sure, maybe he wouldn’t have if he’d known who you were, but he liked the idea of you. He made me sit there and call you.” You sighed, “I adore you and you're so good to me, if he just gave you a shot it would be…”

“Perfect for you,” he finished, “I hope that we can reach that point one day. You deserve to have everything you want.”

You smiled at him, “So I guess that means you will stay home with me. C’mon baby, you work too much, and have turned the one day we do get to hang, the only one you really let yourself have an off day, into a half work day. That would really make me happy, a calm day with you alone.”

“You backed me into a tight spot,” he accused. 

“No. I’m upset but I saw an opening to get what I wanted from my handsome boyfriend.” You kissed his cheek, nuzzling him, “And I know you hate saying no to me.”

He shook his head, amused. “Alright, let’s go pick up a couple things for our stay in tomorrow.”

Later you both brought in groceries for tomorrow, Otto dead set on making you a nice dinner. You managed to persuade him to relax while you put everything up. Though in his typical fashion when you went to join him again he was going over more of his notes, quickly shuffling them away upon hearing your arrival. 

“My sweet sweet love,” you kissed the top of his head, your hands working at the tense muscles in his shoulders, “What’s it going to take to get you to stop thinking?”

He groaned, closing his eyes and your hands worked wonders, “I’m sorry. It’s a horrible obsession, but I want to get one thing right. That’s all it is, daring. Make sure I actually helped make the world better in some way. Leave it better than how I found it.”

“And you will,” you let your hands slip down to his chest, allowing you to hug him loosely as you looked over his latest work, gibberish you were beginning to understand more and more, “but you have to be able to rest your head before things get jumbled.”

“They won’t get jumbled,” Otto grumbled. 

“What’s this?” You asked, pointing at his messy writing. “You talked to me about this before.”

“A discrepancy. This is only a theory. Nothing of substance here.” He grabbed the pen and corrected the mistake. Looking at the paper for a moment, he turned to lay a kiss on your cheek.“…Thank you, sweetheart. You’re right.”

“Hearing that from the famed Dr. Octavius,” you pretended to be awestruck, “Must be doing something right. Maybe I should give you a reward.”

“Like a dog?” He snarked. 

“So you don’t want to shower with me and let me message your back after? Darn, thought it was giving you issues again and after the day you’ve had, there’s got to be some ache in those old bones,” you teased him. Lightly, you smacked his chest before standing, “Guess I’ll enjoy the hot water all on my own. Alone with just my thoughts for company.”

Turning heel, you went to the bathroom. Getting the water perfect, you started to strip yourself down. With the dress out of the way, you admired the matching set that had been purchased recently. The loud creak of the door alerting you as Otto opened the door. You smiled at Otto through the mirror. 

“I’m glad you decided to join me after all, puppy,” you teased lightly. “Help me out?”

A calloused finger traced along the fabric, making you shiver despite the warm room. “This is cute.”

“Yeah, I really liked it,” you sighed as he undid the back, stretching as it was pulled off, “Might get it in another color.”

“That would be nice,” he agreed as he helped peel off the remaining fabric. “Collect them often?”

You turned to face him, undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Depends on if I like how they feel after the day. What kind do you like? Maybe I’ll pick up a few for you.”

“The classics? I suppose? Never really thought about it, always figured I was lucky to see it. I prefer you wearing what you like anyhow.”

“Have to have an actual favorite,” you said, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. 

He pulled off his undershirt as you undid his belt. The simple act without the rush of sex making your heart flutter for some unknown reason. Though you wouldn’t say the sound of the hardware clinking and the zipper going down didn’t elicit some muscle memory response. There was a nervousness to this too, sure he’d seen you but this was something new. But trying new things was something he’d offered.  

“My clothes,” he finally answered.

“Your clothes.”

“You asked,” he shrugged, “Don’t get me wrong, other things are wonderful. You make them beautiful. But seeing you in my things is different. I like knowing that you find comfort in them or out of everything you choose something that reminds you of me…”

“Out of everything I choose you,” you corrected, leaving a kiss on his chest. “Wearing your things is nice. Especially when I know you wear it often.”

“Couldn’t get it out of my head that first time… Then you came to the convention and it took all my willpower not to think of you.”

“You looked excited to see me.”

“I was but I felt guilty when my thoughts turned.”

“I didn’t feel guilty about mine at all,” you laughed, making your way to the shower, leaving him to finish undressing. “Just hated the chase. Hanging on to every little scrap you’d give me because I was scared it was the last.”

Soon enough he joined in. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you firm against him. “I’m sorry, my darling girl, you deserved better than the way I treated you at first.”

You hummed, “Otto, you’ve already made up for it. No reason to apologize again.”

“Your chase should have been fun, if not a bit nerve racking.”

“Not every part of it was bad, Love. Have to appreciate the better parts of this relationship more.” 

You went to reach for the shampoo, but Otto beat you to it. He put some in the palm of his hand and messaged it into your hair carefully, singing softly under his breath. The combination of the two could have lulled you to sleep. Turning to face him, you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. Closing your eyes, you let the hot water wash away the mess, giving a quiet moan when it helped soothe your muscles. 

Remembering Otto was in attendance, you opened your eyes. 

His eyes were roaming down your body, following every curve greedily. Eyes a bit darker when they met yours once more. 

“I… Do you want to do more?” You asked shyly.

Furrowing his brow, he shook his head. “No. It’s not that. We don’t need… I’m…” he smiled a bit, “Appreciating the better part of this relationship. I’ve decided that any of the old master’s sculptures can never compare. Look at my girl.” Pulling you close he kissed your forehead. “I like having this intimacy with you. It’s a beautiful thing isn’t it? Definitely worth freezing a for.”

You let out a relieved breath. Not out of doing more with him, but the idea that he’d only want more from you. Like Nico had and Felix assumed he did. But he never treated you that way, you had to get this nagging voice out of your head. 

“It’s your turn. Let me take care of you.”

-

The following morning you woke up in Otto’s arms. Soft rumbles of his snore filled the air. Turning you looked at him, the morning sun making his features look softer. It was nice seeing him so relaxed without the constant stream of solutions worrying him. You carefully pushed his hair away from his eyes because he always pushed it away first thing. He found it annoying but liked the length too much in his hairstyle to cut it. Otto caught your hand pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“Morning, my love,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

“Get some more rest, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What? No morning kiss?” He asked through a yawn. “No love you?”

You giggled but complied with his demands. “I love you, Dr. Octavius,” you whispered against his lips.

“More than you know,” he whispered back. 

He brought your leg to rest against his waist, nibbling on your bottom lip. Slowly he pushed up your sweater, caressing the soft skin you allowed him to reveal. 

“Got plans this morning, Doc?”

“I think so.”

“Clue me in.”

“I want to kiss you for as long as possible.”

Fingertips traced down your side, making you laugh into his kiss. “I want you to rest.”

“I’ll get plenty of rest later.”

He followed after when you tried to pull away, unwilling to let there be any space. Some days he woke up clingy, not that you minded receiving all of his attention. Forcing him to lay on his back, you moved to perch on his thighs. 

“Do you want me to tire you out, Love, is that it?”

Giving you a look as if he didn’t realize it was an option, he nodded enthusiastically, “Please.”

Leaning down you made like you were going to kiss him, he attempted to meet you halfway before you diverted to kiss his forehead. He groaned in mock anger as you sat back up.

“You’re such a sweet boy like this,” you cooed one of his favorite lines to use on you. “Poor thing, what is it you need?”

He got visibly redder, his breathing just a little heavier. “I-“

His phone rang loudly. Otto looked at you then the nightstand. Work or you? With a playfully dramatic sigh you reached over and handed it to him, knowing it would never leave his mind if you let it pass. 

“Hello… ah yes, sorry, they needed my help ironing out a few things here, what did you need?” 

As he spoke you took your own revenge. Threading your hair through his soft hair you pulled his head back. Kissing his neck as he talked them through whatever situation they were having. His fingers dug into your thighs as he attempted to keep himself in check while you tortured him. At this point you knew him well enough to melt him in seconds and you used all of his weak points against him. 

“A secret child? God I hope not. Wait, sorry, sorry, I forget myself. I know what that’s about, give me the number I’ll work that out.” Otto hung up before letting out a low moan in defeat. Your tongue slowly traced along his Adam's apple before you teased the skin just above it with your teeth. “I can’t believe I used to think you were a sweet girl.”

“Hey!” You said suddenly, surprised yourself at the twinge of hurt in your tone.

Otto pulled your lips to his, love oozing from him. “That’s not to say you aren’t my very sweet girl. Intelligent, kind, loving,” he gave you chaste kisses between the words, “How could I ask for anything more? There’s no one that could possibly come close. Understand?”

You nodded.

“Good. Let me handle the daycare stuff and after that you’ll have me all to yourself. We’ll turn off the phones and you can stash away anything I could possibly write on. I’ll be all yours, no distractions.”

Calmed by that you rested your head against his chest as he dialed the number, listening while he spoke numbers over the phone. Ensuring that the daycare was available whenever necessary and Daniel would get three meals a day. As you dozed, he asked about the arts and science program. Seemingly satisfied he gave the last of what was necessary before hanging up. 

“Heard Daniel in the background,” he informed you, “Seemed really excited to go back to daycare.”

“I'm glad for him. He should be able to have some fun with kids his own age.”

“We were fun.”

“But we can’t be there all the time, as nice of a day it was.”

-

The day held a somber feeling to it as Otto helped you move into your new apartment. Knowing you wouldn’t get to see each other as much and the time difference on top of it making it that much harder to get access to each other when you wanted it. He wouldn’t get to stay for much longer than the night due to a meeting. In all honesty, driving you back to school had been a last ditch effort at getting more time together before you parted ways for who knew how long. 

On returning he’d insisted on helping you grab your things from Mark’s storage. Luckily, Mark had been kind enough to drop off your couch, bed, and car leaving all the keys you’d need with the front desk to make it easier. Otto carried the boxes you’d brought from New York to your door while you made your way to the manager’s building. When you returned to him, he was marveling at a set of photos that a friend of his had taken New Year’s Eve. Otto had taken you in his arms and kissed you as everyone else counted down and long after it was done. His way of ending the year and starting a new one perfectly. The woman caught the moment just in time to get pictures of the kiss and the way you both looked at each other as if there was no one else in the room. 

“I really like these.” He smiled at you, blushing at getting caught admiring the pictures. “You look breathtakingly beautiful. All the time. How do you do it?”

“The trick is to find a lover that’s easily impressed,” you joked, unlocking the door. “Does wonders.” Setting the picture down on the boxes, he picked you up bridal style and walked you across the threshold. You laughed at his pleased expression, kissing the dimple on his cheek. “I thought that was reserved for the married.”

“Call it practice,” he stated before kissing you lovingly. “Couldn’t resist, I’m a sucker for tradition.”

“Isn’t it also tradition to christen something?” You asked, coyly playing with the hair at the back of his neck, “You know for the sake of tradition and practice.”

“You think we need practice?”

“Every bit we can fit in, Love, this is serious stuff.”

“Oh, I’d be idiotic to push off something so drastic,” he agreed.

Unceremoniously, Otto shifted you to be slung over his shoulder so he could drag in the couple boxes on the small porch and shut the door. You laughed along the way as he eagerly took you into your bedroom. 

The two of you panted as you basked in the afterglow. This round felt more like a goodbye then you cared to admit. The way he confessed his love and moved so slowly you could feel every inch drag along. Impossible to forget and even less so to ever be able to replicate. Bringing you to completion as many times as he could before letting himself spill inside of you. All things you knew you’d come to long to feel again in his absence. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you mumbled sleepily, leg hooked across his waist comfortably as you cuddled close. “Can’t even think of moving.”

“We’ll take a nap and get to it later,” he yawned, “Lots of time left.”

“Tired?”

“Dead tired. You don’t know how it feels to make love to you,” he stated, “How hard it is when it feels like you never want to let me go. Takes so much not to finish the second you let me in. I know my life has been dedicated to work but nothing could ever beat seeing your face turn to bliss because of me. I’d dedicate myself to that if it was feasible.”

“All that adoration.”

“The only person I care to worship.” He kissed the side of your head, “Get some rest, my love. We’ll work later.”

A while later, Otto woke you up. Some of your favorite fast food waiting for you since, the both of you had skipped out on food to make it back earlier. After eating the you set out in your cars to bring everything out of storage in one quick trip. Otto seemed to like the opportunity to help you out with the move. Attempting to ensure you never strained yourself too much. 

“I can help too, I mean I should it’s my things.”

He mumbled something as he carried a heavy box of pots and pans and adjusted them in a tight space in the car.

“Sorry?”

“You’re walking funny, pretty girl. Take it easy.”

Warmth flooded your face, “Oh.”

“Exactly and you’re going to be walking around campus soon with those extra classes you decided to take. Can’t imagine it would be very comfortable. I can handle it for you, darling.”

And so he did. Packing away your things in both cars and telling you to go inside and situate things as you saw fit while he brought the boxes in. He was so much sweeter than you thought you deserved. 

You wondered what it would be like one day if you’d ever live together. The assumption was you’d move into his place. It was already his and there was a position in Oscorp carved out just waiting for a piece of paper to be yours for the taking so it wouldn’t be unfair. Finding places to fit your life into his like pieces of a jigsaw. Then again the clothes and perfume you’d forgotten there already seemed like the beginning of the process along with the photos he’d hung up. 

So many things could happen in a year. 

A year ago you wouldn’t imagine you and Otto getting this far in your relationship. 

Who’s to say worse couldn’t happen?

What if he was right? Otto was a dream. He could find anyone easily. Any one could see that. What if that person didn’t have the same troubles this relationship gave him and he liked that? Just like that he wouldn’t be yours anymore… how could you live missing him like that when he was your best friend?

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed, “I’m… I’m just scared of miss you.”

He put down the box he was holding in favor of having you in his arms instead. “I’m not going anywhere. Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. It’s going to be a long year, I know, but we’ll be together as much as possible, alright? Cross my heart.”

“It won’t be enough.”

“It really won’t.” Otto wiped away the tear that fell, “We’re done for the day. We’ll get you more settled in tomorrow morning, alright?”

You nodded, allowing him to pull you over to the couch and sit you on his lap. Hiding your face against his neck you let the tears fall. Couldn’t be helped. Insecurity was eating away at you despite knowing things would be okay. He rubbed your back, allowing you to feel as you felt without a word until the tears subsided.

“Listen, I know we don’t have the best history when it comes to leaving each other,” he spoke softly, hitting the nail on the head, “but we're alright this time. There’s no fight. No pulling away. We’re safe there’s nothing terrible coming our way. I can promise that. Nothing’s going to change.”

“Do you really want to marry me?” You asked suddenly, wondering about the jokes and teasing remarks. 

He nodded, confused by the sudden remark. “I thought that’s where this was heading, yes. As you said not now, we can wait a while or so longer. It’s fine, but I do intend on it. See? I’m not leaving.”

“Felix isn’t right,” you mumbled quietly.

“No, darling. He isn’t right.” Otto wiped away the last of your tears, “I promised you wouldn’t cry for me anymore.”

“I know,” you sighed, “It’s hard to shake. Everything he said gets in my head and I start to worry.”

“I’m here as long as you’d have me.”

“If it’s my decision you’d never leave.”

He smiled at you, “One day. Maybe when the project’s done and you’re settled in your career. When exactly should stay a surprise, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Not if I beat you to the punch,” you laughed though it was still a bit choked, you brought his left hand to your mouth kissing his ring finger. “What is this like a twelve?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I don’t think so. You over plan things. How do I know you won’t turn right around and pick one out when you get home?”

“How do you know I won’t either way? What if I already have one? You’re a pretty deep sleeper, it isn't so hard to do what I need without you knowing.”

“Dr. Octavius you wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” He twirled a strand of your hair around one of his fingers. “Mind waiting a handful more years?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. I left the box of your toiletries in the bathroom. Go relax and I’ll find your towels and bedding to get that all straightened out.”

-

A few weeks had passed since Otto had dropped you off. Communication had lacked as had been expected but both of you were way more busy than expected. So it wasn’t anything to be upset over and it had been nice catching up with friends. Even so, missing him was something terrible. 

Looking around your room it has been a mess. Quick in and outs. Littering clothes, cups, and books everywhere. It was time to clean at the very least. Gave you control over something. When you were told to constantly meet deadlines and juggle your job on top of it. A job that wore you out now that you had a taste of what you actually wanted to do. 

Soon enough it looked presentable aside from the clothes that had been kicked under the bed. Getting on your knees, you reached to pull them out, your fingers glided against cardboard. Furrowing your brow, you pulled out the small package. Must have been forgotten about when everything was being unpacked. Opening it up, you were surprised to see the three sweaters Otto had taken to wearing more often along with a new box of the cologne you persuaded him to wear that night so long ago. A paper fell out as you picked out the forest green sweater to wear, leaving behind the navy and goldenrod ones for now. Tugging it on, you were comforted by the faintest trace of him. 

Tearing through the packaging of the cologne, you sprayed it on the sweater. Finally getting a good lungful of the home you missed so much. Reaching for the paper, you were greeted with Otto’s messy scrawl, much neater without the quick mess of numbers passing through his head as his hand struggled to keep up. 

As I’m writing this you’re in the shower, the door slightly ajar filling the room with the scent of your soaps and the song you always seem to hum under your breath. I’m not sure you ever notice. The song ends abruptly at random points. I’ve never heard it before and at this point I would rather not hear the original. How can anything compare to your sweet voice? I find myself humming the melody at times when I long for your company. Though I always fall short. 

It’s a funny thing. How not too long ago we weren’t a part of each other’s worlds. Living under the same stars for ages without crossing one another’s minds. The idea of not having each other was an easy pill to swallow. You’ve said it yourself, you knew of me and couldn’t have given less a damn on who I was. But, oh, how you beg for my attention so beautifully now. What an addicting thing it is to receive your love. My only hope is that you feel the same on your end. 

The idea that I’ve lived under all these nights without you seems improbable. How could I sleep calmly without you by my side? Without yearning for the rare days that began and ended in each other’s arms. No watching you sneak into my drawers and steal away my favorite sweaters before you make your way to the bed and lay yourself close to me as if I’m a source of comfort. Then again I’m not any better. Searching for any kind of love or reminder of you I can when you’re away. 

My darling girl, one day we’ll be as close as possible as long as we wish. For now we’ll make due with what we can manage. But never doubt I’m dreaming of our future together. 

-Yours, Otto

You teared up, reading the letter again and again. This man, you swore, held your heart by a string. There wasn’t any question that you wanted everything and anything with him. Knowing for a fact that he wanted just the same from you. That he’d say such loving things without the expectation of praise or reward solidified it and melted away any worries that had been forced into you. 

[griffintail]

The Lost Ones

Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

Next

Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood

A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.

I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)

       Tommy (Before the First Disc War)

        Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.

        As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.

        Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.

        He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.

        “You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.

        Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.

        “Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”

        He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?

        “Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.

        They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.

        “You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”

        He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.

        “If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”

        If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.

        “Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”

        Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.

        Twenty Minutes Later…

        Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.

        Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.

          Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)

        Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.

        He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…

        Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.

        “Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.

        He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.

        “Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”

        “Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.

        He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.

        “Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.

        Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.

        “Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”

        The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.

        “Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.

        “No sir, I was worried about the child.”

        Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”

        Eret nodded before leaving the van.

        Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.

        “You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”

        He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.

        “Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.

        For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.

        After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.

        “Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.

        “Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.

        Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

        Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”

          Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)

        Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.

        Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.

        Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…

        Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.

        “God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.

        Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.

        “Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.

        The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.

        “God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.

        With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.

        “Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.

        Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.

        “It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”

        Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.

        “It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”

        The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…

        “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.

        Technoblade (Start of Retirement)

        Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.

        Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.

        The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.

        Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.

        Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.

        “What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”

        In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.

        They’re an orphan now

        You know how you feel about orphans

        Blood for the Blood God

        Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.

        It’d be quick and easy…

        The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.

        Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.

        “Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.

        It took a minute but the device crackled.

        “Yeah, what’s going on?”

        “I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”

        “An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.

        “It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.

        “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

        He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.

        “What?” He huffed.

        Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.

        “What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.

        He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.

        “Come in.” He called.

        In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.

        “Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.

        “What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.

        Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”

        Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”

        “Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”

        “Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.

        “Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”

        The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.

        “What…what are you going to do with the child?”

        “That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”

        “What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”

        “Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.

        “Well…you could take of them.”

        “I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.

        “You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.

        Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”

        “Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”

        No, you found them.

        They’re rather cute…

        Keep them!

        The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.

        “Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

        Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”

        Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

        “What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.

        He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.

        “Blood Child.”

        “Techno!”

        Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.

          Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)

        Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.

        Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.

        “Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”

        He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.

        “Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”

        After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.

        “There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.

        As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.

        “You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”

        He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.

          Dream (The Very Start)

        Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.

        “Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”

        Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.

        Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.

        Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.

        “Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.

        As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.

        Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.

        “Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”

        He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.

        “Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.

        The child giggled and he grinned.

        “There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.

        Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!

        “You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.

        He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.

        “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

[littlefreya]

Prince Of Darkness

Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.

Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.

Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira��, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae​ and @wondersofdreaming​ who held my hand. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Prince of Darkness

Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows. 

Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine. 

‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked. 

Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.  

‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’ 

Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death. 

But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil. 

So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street. 

‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’

The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies. 

Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever. 

Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry? 

Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.  

“You seem distressed.” 

Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom. 

His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant. 

Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.

Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man. 

Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms. 

But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh. 

‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight. 

Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon. 

There was to be plenty of that later...

“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”

Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin. 

Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex. 

It seemed enormous... 

“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”

Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons. 

There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face. 

“I can take you wherever you need to go.” 

Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size. 

Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her. 

Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond. 

Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril. 

A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache. 

Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.

There was never really a choice for her. 

Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.

Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs. 

‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.

A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.

There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.

‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’ 

Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.

Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.

Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears. 

‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’

Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away. 

The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.  

‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’ 

Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him. 

He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.

Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks. 

His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union. 

Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.

The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck. 

His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue. 

It was almost as if he worshipped her. 

Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears. 

“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.

The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.

“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity.  It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres. 

But who the hell was he?!

As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.

Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.

He was beautiful.

He was monstrous.

And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage. 

Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body. 

Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy. 

“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.

Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. 

The blood drained from her face.

Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them. 

Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape. 

Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.

If only she had wings…

Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns. 

It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.  

“Do you like it, bride?” 

Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea. 

Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.

Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest. 

“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away. 

Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched. 

‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’

Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him. 

It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not. 

Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.

“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”

August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground. 

Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury. 

“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered. 

Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once. 

All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp. 

“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize. 

“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.

A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.

Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.

“No!”

Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones. 

August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.

“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.” 

The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.  

He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.

She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.

It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her. 

August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself. 

Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered. 

“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.

August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell. 

“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.” 

Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward. 

“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.

Much to August’s pleasure. 

“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon. 

“You will make an excellent mother.”

Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.    

“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”

“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.  

“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”

With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage. 

Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease. 

In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.

Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out. 

He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed. 

“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.

Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.

It was far from true.

No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock. 

‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’

Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation. 

“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.   

As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.    

A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove. 

He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.

She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood. 

Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil. 

“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!” 

In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours. 

It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.

Euphoria. 

For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax. 

The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall. 

This was no longer a hallucination. 

This was Inferno.

Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.  

Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.  

After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.

“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly. 

A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for. 

Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.  

“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will. 

When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth. 

“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.

Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth. 

“I wish for…” 

Her whisper faded into the dark.

*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker

Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics​

[seaofghouls]

DELTARUNE CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS!!

spamton x reader

You swiftly made your way out of the mansion for the day with a smile on your face. Hm.. It wouldn’t hurt to stop by the tea shop on the way back, would it? A nice treat. Ah, The Addisons. Had the best products money could buy. Though, none could top Mr. Spamton’s sales. He went missing years ago, however.

The smile on your face diminished as you thought about it. You were fairly close to him, when he lived in the mansion. There were two head butlers, you and Swatch. You both managed Color Cafe and ordered the Swatchlings around, as well as attending to Queen’s bidding. Both of you had been fairly busy as of late, with the lightners arrival.

You almost didn’t even realize that you had arrived at your destination, enveloped in your thoughts. Tea.. that’s right. Mayhaps you should pick up some cake as well.

“Good evening, [Name]! To what do I owe the pleasure of pleasing the head butler?” Pink greeted.

“Hello, Pink! I’ve come to pick up some tea and maybe some cake.” You smiled at him.

“And I thought I told you that my status doesn’t affect anything outside of work. You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.” You sighed.

“Keep telling yourself that, but you’re much more important than you may think.” Pink said.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You huffed.

“Anywho, got any new tea flavors?” You asked.

“I do indeed! Believe it or not, four new flavors have been shipped in with the arrival of the lightners. Kris, Susie, Ralsei and Noelle.” Pink said.

“Hm.. Noelle sounds good. Queen’s peon, I believe. She’s a delight.” You hummed.

Pink prepared your tea as you talked about her.

“Always talking about that Susie girl. Ah, young love. It’s refreshing, to say the least.” You smiled.

Pink hummed in agreement. “And did you want any cake?”

“Oh, yes, of course, just give me the usual flavor.” You said.

“She’s so timid but when she speaks her mind, it’s a sight to see. She’s so sweet, especially to Birdley. Which.. I find it a bit complexing based on their relations.” You continued on.

“I see. Here’s your items.” Pink handed the tea and cake to you and you payed him back.

“Thanks, Pink. Man, I should get going. It’s getting late.” You said, looking at the time.

“Well, I’ll be off. Good night, Pink!” You waved.

“Good night!” The Addison smiled.

You dropped your bags on the counter in your apartment and sighed. It’s been a long day. Plopping down on the couch, you sighed contently and turned on the television. You could probably order some food or whatever. You didn’t really feel like cooking.

You groaned in annoyance as your phone rang.

“..Hello?”

“Oh [Name] Sugar Honey Sweetie Gravy Pie!”

“Ah, hey Queen. It’s.. afterhours. Did you need something?” You sat up.

“I’m Terribly Sorry But I Need You To Come Back To The Mansion. I Can’t Find The Lightners And I Need Both You And Swatch.” She said.

Of course.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way. Just sit tight.” You sighed, getting ready.

The city was noisy as ever, cars blocking up certain paths. You made your way into the mansion eventually, though. Swatch was waiting for you when you entered.

“So, we’re on a goose hunt from what I understand?” You asked, looking at them.

“It would seem that way, yes. The Swatchlings are maintaining the shop, so for now, let’s split up to find them.” Swatch said.

“Is Queen sure they’re even here?” You asked.

“Why Yes I’m Absolutely Positive [Name]!” Queen said, seemingly materializing out of thin air.

You would be surprised, but this tends to happen a lot.

“..Alright. Better get going then. Break a leg.” You said with a grin.

“I could say the same to you.” Swatch returned your expression.

You looked and looked around your selected areas of the mansion but with no trace of anything yet. You shouldn’t be surprised, it is a mansion after all. You arrived upon a door, leading into the basement. Hearing destruction entailing within, you decided to check it out. Sounds like a commotion, so it’s likely that they’re here.

What are they fighting? You had not the slightest clue. The basement was dark and damp. You simply followed the sound of the commotion. Kris, Susie and Ralsei were at the edge of the room and Kris was kneeled down.

“There you guys are! Finally. That took forever to find you.” You smiled.

“Woah, are they okay?” You paused.

“KRIS!! YOU HAVE FRIENDS! WHY DON’T YOU TELL THEM ABOUT MY [ 3 for One Specil!!]” Someone cackled.

They were all scooped up in coasters, You were bunked with Ralsei.

“HOLY-!” You gasped out at the figure in front of you.

Your good friend, who had gone missing years ago, except he was eleven feet tall and a robot, attached by strings.

“..SPAMTON?!” Your jaw dropped.

Ralsei closed your jaw with his paw. “Will you help us??”

“Yeah. Y-Yeah! Of course. Gotta reserve your energy for Queen.” You said, trying to brush off your initial shock.

Spamton cackled like a madman. “[HEAVEN], ARE YOU WATCHING??”

“Totally helps with the knowledge that my best friend who went missing forever ago is trying to kill us.” You said sarcastically.

The four of you worked together to snap the wires attached to Spamton. There were a lot, however.

“Heaven?? Big Shots? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked in confusion.

“DON’T YOU SEE [NAME]?? THIS IS THE [Key] TO FREEDOM!” He cackled.

“Yeah, except it’s not.” You rolled your eyes.

The air crackled with freedom, supposedly. You kept going, following Kris’s command until the last wire remained.

“WAIT!! [$!?!] THE PRESSES! MY WIRES! THEY’RE ALMOST GONE?? I’M BEING GIFTED MY FREEDOM??” Spamton paused.

“That’s what we’ve been trying to accomplish this entire time, yes.” You said.

“I SEE!! THE MOST IMPORTANT DEAL OF ALL! FRIENDSHIP!!” He cried.

“I’LL LIVE FOR MYSELF!! MYSELF AND MY FRIENDS!! CUT THAT LAST WIRE!!” He cheered.

You grinned and nodded at the others.

One final act.

The wire was sliced and the robot crashed to the floor. When the smoke cleared, Spamton was encased in vines. Much smaller than he was before.

You approached him slowly.

The others stayed back.

You untangled him from the vines and had a slight frown as you held him, almost like a little kid.

“It appears all that I could be was a simple puppet. I do hope you’ll be able to free yourself. Do what I couldn’t.” He sighed.

He gave the group a Black Crystal.

“C’mon, Spamton. We’re going home.” You said.

“Work can wait.” You took a breath.

…

“So you found them and someone else, hm?” Swatch said, after you met back up with them in Color Cafe.

Spamton had fallen asleep. That battle took a lot out of him.

“Yup. Now I’m gonna take some well deserved time off.” You grinned.

“For how long?” They asked.

“Maybe two days to a week. Depends on how he’s doing.” You said, referring to Spamton.

“Be safe, won’t you?” Swatch gave a soft smile.

“I always am.” You smiled back.

You pet Spamton’s hair on the way back home and sighed with content.

You finally had him back.