#the party animal jokes are coming in the next chapter

[tobiasdrake]

Incidentally, we can't really talk about pragmatism without talking about Future Trunks.

Krillin is a devious and underhanded martial artist, but still a martial artist. Trunks is an assassin. He goes straight for the throat at every opportunity. He's not here to fight; He's here to kill.

Much like his father, Trunks is not a martial artist. Every bit Vegeta's son, he's naturally gifted and has already become a Super Saiyan by both of his first appearances - in the story, when he fights Frieza on Earth, and also chronologically in Trunks the Story: A Lone Warrior.

I can't really say he's untrained. He was trained in the basics by Gohan. But Gohan is also not a martial artist; He's had one year and six months of proper martial arts training. One year from Piccolo and six months from Krillin.

Gohan's a fighter, guided by emotion moreso than technique. So there's a limit to how much Trunks can learn from him. Even Gohan admits that he's a poor substitute for his dad.

This, I should note, is a meaningful admission from Gohan because this chapter was published at the very beginning of the Cell Games. Gohan outright saying "I wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps but the clothes aren't enough" sets up an important contrast to the Gohan of the present time who has had that time with Goku and is ready to take his place.

But his concession of inadequacy is important for how we interpret Trunks as well. Trunks knows the stuff. He can perform Bukujutsu. Throw ki blasts. Power up into a Super Saiyan. But he's not Goku or Krillin or Yamcha or Tenshinhan; Like Gohan and Vegeta, he is a fighter, not a martial artist.

His heart is in the right place, but he's reckless and foolhardy. Chomping at the bit for a piece of vengeance.

This recklessness carries into his journey to the past. He never quite learns from his brief offscreen shitstomp by the Twins. He returns to a point in history just after Goku's return from space. Historically, this was a key moment in history where Goku showed up in the nick of time to save Earth from Frieza and his father King Cold. Which should technically be Great King Cold as it's Cold-Daio but he's far from the first king to have his Greatness dropped in translation, eh Piccolo?

But when Goku's late to the party, Trunks starts to worry and decides to step in himself.

Look at him. The spitting image of his father, full of piss and vinegar.

It's here that we get to see Trunks as a fighter for the very first time. Even chronologically; In Trunks the Story, they skip most of the action; It's very brief.

I mean. It's an absolutely hilarious joke that we see Trunks flying off half-cocked to go get revenge and then he's waking up from a coma on the very next page. Amazing cutaway gag.

But we're here to talk about Trunks's DNA as a fighter, so Frieza offers us the first material we have to work with. And Trunks? He does not fuck around.

Your soldiers are dead. Who's next?

You're dead. Who's next?

Your father's dead. We done here?

Trunks gives zero shits. In the span of two chapters, he massacres Frieza, Cold, and all of their soldiers without an ounce of hesitation. He is not playing.

He was even paying attention to the part where Frieza can survive grievous amounts of harm and come back. He takes great care to thoroughly and utterly annihilate every last bit of Frieza. Taking no chances.

Trunks isn't here to fight. He's here to kill. He is not interested in a protracted martial arts bout.

This fight, incidentally, also gives us a moment to talk about Trunks's sword. Cold-Dumbass thinks Trunks's sword is the key to his power.

He's an idiot. There's a reason he only exists for like three chapters and one page of a fourth. This man doesn't even understand how weapons work in anime.

Japan and the West have very different relationships with weapons. When Westerners think of weapons, we think of guns. Even when we write medieval weapons, we treat them like guns. Guns are disposable tools that bestow killing power upon their wielder. Any average Joe with a gun suddenly becomes a lethal warrior.

But Japan has a rich history and philosophy baked into their culture surrounding weapons and their role in martial arts. In anime, a weapon does not grant power; It manifests power. The weapon is an extension of its wielder. It's a means by which the wielder expresses their own strength.

In Trunks's hands, that sword can cut through Frieza. Because Trunks is powerful, and his might outshines Frieza's.

In Cold's hands, however, that sword is harmless. Because Cold is weak and cowardly. (Uh, relative to Trunks.) He has no power to express.

But Goku is strong. Goku knows power intimately, far beyond Trunks's understanding. And so Trunk's sword, his expression of power, is useless against Goku.

This is what Trunks's sword means, to him and to the story. It's an extension of his character and his strength; The means by which he delivers his killing force. Which is precisely what makes this moment so devastating.

When 18 breaks Trunks's sword, she breaks Trunks. The damage to his blade is honestly not that severe. It could probably be reforged. But the damage to Trunks's self-image, to his psyche, is unshakable.

Trunks never uses his sword again. He leaves it on the plane here.

And then we never see it again. Instead, Trunks decides to pursue greater martial arts training alongside his father, following in Vegeta's footsteps.

But he never quite loses his assassin streak. Though he begins to develop his abilities as a fighter from this point forward, Trunks is goal-oriented. He wants to kill the Twins. He doesn't care how that happens.

In the original version of these events, before Cell further altered the timeline, those blueprints were the key to Trunks's victory against the Twins of his timeline.

Though Cell has no idea how Trunks pulled off this victory despite being too weak to defend himself from Cell himself, the discovery of Gero's lab offers us a possible explanation.

The Twins have shutdown switches built into their systems. Though 17 destroyed the remote Gero built, Bulma is able to use these blueprints to build a new one.

So there's a solid implication that the weaker Trunks of Cell's timeline took Bulma's remote home with him and disabled the Twins that way. Again: He's not here to fight. He's here to kill. It doesn't matter how he does it.

...well, I guess it does matter 'cause that Trunks got wasted by Cell five minutes later.

Point is, Trunks wears his goal-oriented ruthlessness on his sleeve. He's not driven by pride of by love of the art. He has a job he's here to do.

However that single-minded focus, that determination to get it done, also holds him back. Trunks has never had proper martial training. He's been taught by Future Gohan, who is not a martial artist. And he's... taught himself near Vegeta. His developed his abilities and increased his strength, but he doesn't know fighting the way Goku or Krillin or Yamcha or Ten do. Nor does he have Vegeta's natural brilliance and general understanding.

Trunks, for all his strength and all his determination and all his killing instinct, is an amateur. We all know what happened to him in the last fight he ever fought here in the present.

Vegeta breaks the limits of the Super Saiyan and realizes that this power is good but comes at a cost, so he should only do it sparingly.

Goku breaks the limits of the Super Saiyan and realizes this form sucks and is stupid, and decides to go a different route entirely.

But Trunks breaks the limits of the Super Saiyan and goes "AWWW YEAH THIS IS THE SHIT GIMME THAT POWER" because he doesn't know. He has a killer's instinct, not a martial artist's. He's never been trained in technique.

We see, over the course of this series, both Trunks's strengths and his weaknesses as a fighter. In every altercation, he goes straight for the throat. Which is brutally effective when he has the power to back it up but Trunks, more than anyone, is vulnerable to a crushing defeat if he doesn't have the Power Level to back it up. He has nothing else.

Still, he gets to go out on a high note. His final chapter sees him return to the future, not with the remote but with the great strength he gained in the Room of Spirit and Time. And he gets to clean house his way - slaughtering the Twins efficiently and thoroughly, in true Trunks fashion.

And also getting Cell for good measure.

Godspeed, killer. You were the best your world had left to offer but you rose to the occasion, and that's the most that could be asked of anyone.

[husbandhoshi]

Heheh mingyu + cute + 9:27am

[9:27]

on god, i will kill whoever shares a wall with mingyu, is your first thought of the day.

you lay there, head positively spinning, as you hear the perpetrator snooze their train horn alarm for the fifth time that morning.

your second is, fuck, i actually went home with him, and your third falls somewhere along the lines of having the worst hangover headache of your twenty something years of being alive.

the bed next to you is cold (mingyu probably has class), you’re in a big white shirt (must have put it on after getting your back blown out), and curiously, mingyu has a studio ghibli poster you never noticed on the back of his door (good, although it would have ruined the mood if you knew totoro had witnessed all of that).

the unsavory details from last night come flooding back to you like the final chapter of an agatha christie novel, except you still don’t really get it.

kim mingyu, resident heartthrob of sigma alpha epsilon and the guy you just happened to tutor on tuesdays, not only invited you to a party, but somehow landed you in his bed, wearing his clothes.

on an average day, sleeping with a guy five million miles out of your league would be the college fairytale of your dreams, except you have class in two hours and the room is so bright, so flooded with sunlight, you think you will actually die if you open your eyes any wider.

you kind of wished things would be different.

(let’s get out of here, mingyu had said last night, and a part of you already knew what was going to happen. but instead, he walked you to in-n-out, draped in his big letterman jacket, and you spent the next two hours talking about everything and nothing over an order of animal fries.

and you remember him hovering over you, his silver necklace tantalizing and cold against the skin of your neck, asking in that awfully low voice of his—are you sure? we don’t have to.

and you pleaded and begged yes, yes, want it, want you, because you actually had the most embarrassing crush on him and somehow you fell in love all over again watching him get thousand island sauce on that nice button up of his.)

but in true fratboy fashion, he’s gone, and you’re just another girl left to dry in the wretched sigma house.

it’s then that you hear a knock on the door, at first frantic, then softly.

“mingyu’s not here,” you holler, although it’s more of a croak than a shout. “i don’t even live here.”

“um. this is mingyu,” comes the muffled voice. “sorry, i—” you can just picture him rubbing the back of his neck, piecing his next sentence together. “i thought you might want some breakfast?”

hearing the same voice that said basically unrepeatable things last night now shy as ever, asking permission to enter his own room, gives you the worst whiplash of your life. on top of that, you’re embarrassingly relieved that he did not, in fact, abandon you.

“yeah, uh, sure. thanks.” you scramble for your phone to make sure you look ok, but promptly realize the fool is charging it on his desk. so instead you just lay there, trying to look as alive as possible.

the door opens slowly, and through your half-lidded, squinty eyes, you make out what possibly could be the most beautiful man alive, looking like a dream in low hanging sweats and a muscle tee. and he has a plate of pancakes and orange juice.

“sorry, i look terrible.” the words just fly out of your mouth.

“no you don’t,” he chides in that awfully attractive pout of his. “was gonna say you look great. especially after everything that happened last night.”

he grins, all teeth and pretty pink lips, as you fight to not pull the covers over your head and just perish on the spot. “please shut up. i thought you abandoned me, you know. and i decided i was gonna stop tutoring you and let you fail organic chemistry.”

mingyu laughs and sits beside you on the bed, warm gaze falling on you. “i’m sorry. please don’t do that. i need you,” he jokes, and you both laugh again, feeling that post hookup awkwardness permeate the space.

he moves to brush the hair out of your forehead, but stops himself. he’s not sure what to do (he likes you, a lot actually, and that itself is enough to zap all rational thought from his brain).

“are you feeling ok?” mingyu asks instead. “i brought a warm towel and an advil. you know, uh, if you had a headache or something.”

it’s cute seeing him trip over his words, and you nod, giving him the ok to fuss over you.

“can you sit up? do you want me to feed you?” the questions come a mile a minute, but you’re never one to complain over a real life disney prince fawning over you.

so you let him, god, for some reason him propping you up against his pillows is a thousand times hotter than whatever he did last night, and you make the executive decision to waste your entire friday morning to spend it with him.

you’re still not sure what you are—friends, acquaintances, or something in the middle.

you wouldn’t dare think lovers though, except when he blows on a forkful of pancake to cool it down, you briefly consider marriage.

(before you go, he kisses your forehead. “catch a movie with me tomorrow?” he asks, taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and sliding them onto your face—he knows you lied when you said your head wasn’t hurting anymore.

“is this because you wanna—”

“it’s because i want to take you on a date. a real one. can i?”

he smiles at you again, radiant and honest, and you find you don’t doubt him for a second.)

[thequarterkid]

Teen!Michael Afton x fem!reader

Chapter 2

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(Main updates on Wattpad, same user)

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Y/N put her bike to the almost full racks outside the building, trusting it wouldn't be stolen, and when inside she had actually enjoyed her time at Fredbears! She had watched the animatronics with curious eyes for a while, she admired how the place was pretty full, how people were over all just having a good time.

Kids ran around, chasing each other. Some watched the animatronics, many were sat at tables eating or drinking something, others played the arcade games, she had already decided to give them a try on her next visit here, and that she was going to bring her brother. She was done with the place, for now, so Y/N stuck to her word and headed over to the counter.

There you could either cash in your tickets for some sweet prizes or if you just had money you could buy a plush, which was what she was going to do. She looked at all the ones on the shelf that she could buy, Y/N didn't know which one to get, but after a minute or two she came to a decision. 'I'll get him one of the main animatronics for now, that way when he comes here he could start a collection, if he wanted of course.' She thought to herself as she neared the counter.

Standing there was an employee, he was young, probably around her age. He looked a little bored, maybe he didn't enjoy his job or maybe today was just long for him, she couldn't tell. When she walked towards him he seemed to straighten up a little but she brushed it off as trying to be professional.

"What could I do for you today?" He asked as he clapped his hands  together. It didn't look like she had any tickets with her so he made a tiny assumption that she was using money, and to his guess she was.

"Hey, could I get.. uh, the yellow bunny please?" She party pointed to the plushie on the shelf. Feeling a little awkward for not knowing it's name. She had heard some kid saying the name earlier but it now completely slipped her mind. As she looked at him she thought he kind of looked like the boy who had almost ran over her brother earlier, 'Strange.' She was snapped back out of her thoughts when she heard him speak.

"Springbonnie? Sure thing." He grabbed the cotton stuffed piece of yellow fabric for the girl, "Tickets or cash?" He asked setting the thing down at the counter.

"Money." She replied. Y/N was told her price, she gave him the money, and got the spare change back. "Thank you." She gave him a slight smile, in which he returned and nodded at her. Y/N inspected the stuffed animal, she was sure Connor was gonna like it, and if he didn't then oh well. 'I'll just start my own collection!' She joked to herself, as she walked around more.

She didn't even realize but she had stayed until closing time, which was 8 pm that day. She walked out to the empty bike racks. Completely empty. Where was her bike? "Damn it!" She cursed herself out under her breath. "This is what happens when you don't use your head, Y/N." She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance knowing that when she was about half way there that she realized she should've grabbed a bike lock but just kept going because she felt she was already too far to turn back.

"Are you okay?" A voice came from behind her, it startled her and she jumped. The boy, the one from the counter was holding the handle bars of his bike while staring at her. "You seem, upset, about something.."

"I-" She felt embarrassed and stupid. "My bike got stolen." Her voice quieted down and she looked down at her feet then back up at the boy. "That's all." Not knowing why she explained it to him, when she just could have brushed it off and let him continue with his day. The boy sighed, "Travis.." he shook his head and looked away, thinking for a moment, tapping his fingers on the grip. "I could give you a ride back to wherever you're going, the seat on my bike is extended, I just don't have helmets." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Y/N brightened up at his offer, "Oh I would appreciate that very much! Thank you!" She smiled at him as he sat on his seat. "I'm Y/N, and you are..?" She extended her hand out to him. "Michael, nice to meet you." He shook her hand then pointed behind him, "Just hop on behind me, there's pegs you can put your feet on." Y/N nodded and she did what he said and sat down. She saw the pegs but at first only put one of her feet on them, the other was on the ground, she worried she would unbalance them. Y/Ns next struggle was not knowing where to put her hands, and Michael caught on to that so he came up with a simple solution!

He grabbed her arms and made them wrap around his torso, "Hold on tight, I ride pretty fast." She put her other foot up on the lonely peg, "Alright." And they were off! At first his peddling has slower than she thought, that was until he asked her address, received it, and knew where he was going. That's when he started to speed, and she subconsciously tightened her grip around Michaels torso, scared of falling off his rigidity bike.

Once they were outside her house he seemed to recognize it. "Do you have a little brother? Because earlier today I almost-" Y/N didn't need to know the rest of the sentence that he was going to spit out. She just smiled, "-ran into him? Yes I know, saw the whole thing." His reaction was funny, the way he looked down, slumped over, clearly embarrassed. "Oh."

She got off the bike, taking another look at the plushie before turning her attention to Michael. "It's fine though! No one got hurt and that's what matters." Y/N gave the boy a reassuring smile, she didn't want him to be embarrassed. He looked up at her, "Thanks."  She shook her head, "No, thank you. I'm grateful you gave my a ride!" He chuckled, "I'll see you around then?" "Yeah." With that she turned around and headed down the walkway to the door.

In the evening light, Y/N reached for the cold doorknob to the house. When she turned it and opened the door she couldn't help but look back. Michael was still there, making sure she would get into her house. Y/N waved to him and was met with a, "Later!" before he rode off. She was glad to have a positive interaction with someone today, especially since it was her first time talking to anyone her age in this town.

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[nonobadcat]

For @oklolnoty

With special thanks to @krystalwithakay for writing an entire, working Javascript program just to make a joke in a fanfiction. May 2D murderers ever throw themselves at your illustrious feet.

Down the Rabbit Hole - Five Chapters - 20k words - Yandere Shigaraki Tomura x Rabbit Quirk Female Reader

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Rating: 18+ readers only - Minors DNI

Final Chapter : Accessory - 6.1k words

TW: Noncon, yandere with kidnapping, canon typical threats of violence (reader directed), canon typical death (nonreader directed), oral (receive), PnV (doggie), breeding, and expensive designer clothing everywhere.

“Honey-chan! Come here! Come here!”

From the far side of the bar, Nyanko waved you over. Pochi and Nyanko sat scattered between a group of three middle-aged men and one woman. The short, squat one on the right had to be the Kiba, if the amorous attention he lavished on Pochi was anything to go by. You knew he’d been the one to introduce Oshida to the club, but the rest of the party didn’t look much like heroes or marketing managers. Beside Kiba, a tall, chiseled man with rumpled salt and pepper hair wore hideous seafoam green scrubs. Next to him, a thick necked work-out-aholic still had his hospital badge on his pocket clip. The only woman was a few years older than Mama-san with a small, oval face, Cupid’s bow lips and glossy chestnut hair. While she easily could have passed for a former hostess, the long, white lab coat draped over her seat revealed her real profession.

You pushed away an exhausted frown and very bitter “I haven’t even put down my bag, ho!” in favor of a cheery grin and bouncy step. Sliding onto the couch next to them, you clicked your tongue.

“Meh, what’s up, Docs?”

Green scrubs belted out a hearty laugh. “You were right, Nyanko-chan, she is very witty.”

Nyanko scratched the air. “Remember your paw-mise, Yamamoto-sensei. You’re nya-t allowed to fall for anyone but me-ow-kay?

“O-okay,” he murmured, pushing up his glasses.

Nyanko giggled.

“Honey Bunny, this is Kiba-san from the Buster Hero Agency,” Pochi explained, gesturing to each guest in order. “Yamamoto-sensei, Hora-san and Sawa-sensei all work in the Pediatric Trauma Unit at Metropolitan Hospital. Hora-san is the director. Yamamoto-sensei and Sawa-sensei are his top surgeons.”

“Oh wow! How amazing!” you gushed. “So when kids get injured in a villain attack, you’re the people that save them?”

“Yes. They’re the real heroes,” Kiba proclaimed proudly, sloshing his Old Fashioned.

“We’re negotiating a collaboration with the Buster agency,” Hora explained. “We’re going to feature them in our literature and they’ll be doing daily hospital appearances for the kids.”

“Now, now—” Kiba wagged his finger “—I never promised daily visits. Our heroes are very busy and I need to be respectful of their time.”

Hora slapped him on the back with a loud laugh. “If you can still say that, I need to buy you another drink, my friend.”

“Careful what you offer.” Pochi’s fanged grin pricked her rosy lips as she draped herself around her prey’s arm. “My Kiba can really hold his liquor. You better watch yourself, Hora-san.”

Kiba roared with laughter. “You tell them Pochi-chan!”

You giggled into your palm to hide the snide smirk. Billed for her mature sensuality and elegance, Pochi was Animal Instinct's number one Hostess for a reason. Notorious for her ability to smooth over even the most heated contract negotiations with her wit and grace, her clients included some of the largest corporate big wigs in the city. Drinking with her would do to your budget what trying to put out a fire with gasoline would, but if you could bankroll her tastes, her companionship paid literal dividends. 

The only question was, which party suggested the hostess club for negotiations?

You studied the faces of each guest in turn. Kiba, being the regular, seemed like the likely candidate, but Hora’s comment about the drinks implied he was footing the bill. Nyanko’s “here, kitty, kitty” act left Yamamoto too spellbound. While he would probably be back again, this was clearly his first run in with her cattitude. When your eyes rolled to the last person at the table, you caught a calculating grin on a botoxed smile. 

Like a boss, Sawa-sensei. Like a boss.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Nyanko gasped. “Honey-chan, show Sawa-sensei your new purse, paw-eeze?”

Sawa-sensei’s gaze drifted to the crook of your elbow where the bag hung like the white elephant in the room. You hoisted it up, setting it on the table for her inspection. Tiny palladium feet clinked on the glass top.

“Well now,” she turned it this way and that. “I think I still like the Retoupe better than the Sellier, but the size looks perfect and that color is so...”

“It goes with everything, right?” Nyanko agreed.

Sawa-sensei nodded. “Everybody gushes over the bubblegum pink but I think the Etain/Etoupe color lines are the perfect neutral.” She passed the bag back to you. “Very classic. Do you shop at Hermés often?”

“Oh! No, no!” you explained, with a cheery laugh. “A client bought it for me a few days ago.”

Sawa raised a painted brow. “She must be well connected.” 

“He,” Nyanko corrected. “His son comes in to learn how to talk to women. Of all of us, Honey-chan was the first to really bring him out of his shell.”

You cringed, glancing at Kiba. Hopefully that little comment didn’t make it back to Oshida. Logically, the man had to know you had other clients, but when it came to you, he could be more territorial than a bull elephant seal. Still, it made for good tips and a girl had to eat.

Thumbing her chin, she studied your purse like a general analyzing enemy troop movements. “Your sponsor seems to understand women well and have exquisite taste.” She winked at you. “Lucky girl.”

“Huh.” Hora inspected the bag. “That looks like a nice laptop bag. Maybe I should get one for my wife.”

“I’m sure she’d like it,” Sawa replied coolly, sipping her martini. “That’s the 35 cm. They start at about 2 million yen.”  

His face paled. 

“Of course, that doesn’t include the money you have to spend to even be offered the chance to buy,” she continued. “Hermés boutiques only get a limited delivery twice a year and only their top clients are considered. I think I owned fifteen of their scarves, two pairs of shoes, and the entire collection of their perfumes before I got the option. Even then, it was mostly because my mother buys their saddles for her Gypsy Vanners.”

WHAT THE HECK HIGH SPEC FAMILY DID THIS WOMAN COME FROM?!

“Their scarves are so lovely,” Pochi cooed. “Kiba got me the Grise Nacré colorway of Chorus Stellarum last week. It’s a must have for any pastel goth.”

“How much did that set you back?” Hora asked.

Kiba coughed into his glass. “56,000.”

“He’s a doll, right?” Pochi gushed, patting him on the cheek.

Considering Pochi had to talk him out of buying his wife an unsolicited vacuum cleaner for her birthday, you really wondered about that. 

“Maybe a scarf then,” Hora agreed, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Oh,” Pochi turned to Kiba. “What about little scarves or bandanas as favors for the kids? They wouldn’t be too expensive to print if you outsource and they’d look like little capes! Super on brand, right?”

“Pochi-chan! You’re a genius!” 

Her tail wagged so hard the seat swayed. “Oh, Kiba-san. Stop it! ”

Sawa-sensei smirked at the exchange and elbowed Hora. He nodded at her before turning to you. “Could you get us some champagne, Honey-chan?”

With a sparkling grin and an under the table fist pump, you replied: “Of course!”

“Pochi-sama!” Nyanko whined, her flushed face buried in the other Hostess’s arm. “I bow before you and beg for your continued protection.”

You clapped your hands together like a woman in prayer. “High holy Pochi-sama, Goddess of the Golden Tip. We offer you our eternal devotion.”

Pochi twirled her hair and loosed a cartoon villainess’s laugh. “Fear not, my darlings. True believers shall always receive my blessing.”

“We are unworthy,” the two of you repeated in synchrony.

“Thank you, thank yo—oooop!

Nyanko’s drunken cackles rang into the night as Pochi tripped into the back alley. “So graceful!”

“Elegance in her every step,” you agreed.

“Silence, mortals,” Pochi commanded, steadying herself on the dumpster. She thumbed her chest. “I have the skills that pay the -hic- bills.”

You giggled.

“Hey, Honey-chan?”

“Hmmm?”

Nyanko pointed to your empty arms. “Forgetting something?”

You slapped your forehead. “Oh. Duh. It’s still on the table.” Black heels wedged themselves into the self-locking fire door before it snapped shut. “Last train leaves soon. You guys go ahead without me.”

“You sure?”

Pochi swallowed, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“I’m fine!” you insisted, shooing them off. “Get her holiness back to the temple before she has to worship the porcelain god.”

“Whoops! No worries, Pochi-sama! I got your back!” Nyanko replied, wiping out a scrunchie. She scooped up Pochi’s dangling ears and tied them in a bow. Then, your friend turned back to you. “Careful going home with all that cash, kay, bunny girl?”

You nodded. “Thanks, Nyanko. You’re a queen.”

She purred before wrapping Pochi’s arm over one shoulder. Swaying together, they stumbled out onto the main drag before making a right towards the station.

Finding the bag took no time at all. You checked your wallet, only to see a fat stack of untouched 5000 yen notes. Basking in the glory of financial security, you whistled the item get theme from Legend of Zelda before strutting back to the door. The 1812 Overture blared from Mama-san’s office, drowning out the world. You bowed to her. Waving like an empress greeting the great unwashed, she returned to tallying the daily total.

Snickering, you ducked out the exit. 

When the fire door clanged shut, your hackles stood on end. The smell of sweat and woody citrus wafted on the breeze. A tall silhouette blocked the entrance to the alley. Panting like a dog, Oshida, clad in his spandex leotard, leaned against the brickwork. Dark shadows from his furrowed brow turned his brown eyes a bottomless jet black.

“O-Oshida-san?” you stammered, taking one step back. “What are you doing here?!”

“Nice bag.” He stalked down the alleyway, his hard stare never leaving the offending object. “Some other guy bought that for you, huh?”

You swallowed, unsure what to say to the hard bite in his tone.

He drew up in front of you, rolling his broad shoulders back to accentuate his full height. Wordlessly, he snatched up your wrist and inspected the leather craftsmanship. “Grey?” he scoffed. “How generic. That moron doesn’t know you at all does he?”

Out of seemingly nowhere, he produced a small, black leather box with a push button latch. Lowering himself to one knee, he snapped open the lid. A gaudy round-cut diamond, solitaire set in a rose gold band with pink sapphire trimmings, stared up at you like the eye of some great beast. Even in the dim, orange glow of hazy streetlamps, all three carats sparkled with near flawless clarity.

“Baby pink suits my baby girl much better then some ugly grey purse,” he cooed, slipping the ring onto your left hand.

Frozen in shock, you gapped at the garish, glittering stones.

Oh…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no no no no no no!

“So… will you tell me your name now?”

Rigid tension shook your entire body. Sharp nails curled into tightly balled fists. “Oshida-san…”

He cupped your hand, stroking his thumb up and down yours. “Call me Hideki,” he purred.

Your head snapped up, wide eyes bulging. “Oshida-san, this is very sudden.”

He laughed. “Well, when Kiba told me everything that happened, I figured there was no time like the present.”

Heavy stones left the loose band sagging on your finger. Your heart sank along with it. Alarm bells blared as every part of your brain scrambled for an excuse that wouldn’t cost you a meal ticket. They clawed their way through pliant pacifications, tossing out line after line.

“But marrying a hostess would be terrible for your reputation. What would the press say?”

“Kiba will handle it.” A paparazzi worthy smile twinkled at you. “He’s great at his job.”

Screaming internally, you toed the ground and looked away. “Your parents would never approve. I don’t want to be the person who comes between a man and his family.”

He squeezed your hand. “Once they see how sweet you are, they’ll fall as deeply in love with you as I have.”

“I-I’m no good at anything housey though! I burn everything I cook, I always mix up the white and the colors, and I’m awful at cleaning!” You sniffled, pretending to cry into your hands. “You’d be so ashamed of a wife like me.”

“So I’ll hire a maid and a chef.” He chuckled, patting your hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Princess. There are all kinds of wifely duties you can do for me.”

Oh my gosh. You were going to barf.

“Can you just not, you chauvinistic troglodyte?”

“What?”

Um... Girl. You just said the quiet part out loud.

You blinked. “What?”

Oshida blankly stared at you. “What did you just call me?”

Welp… guess the bunny was out of the burrow now. Better just roll with it.

Yanking off the ring, you ripped open his hand and dropped it into his palm. “I have precious little interest in marrying a callow narcissist who thinks I can be bought by the highest bidder, so you should march yourself on over to the first fangirl with a nice rack and toss your baggage her way.”

He stared at you. “Huh?”

“Are you for real?!” You threw your hands into the air. “No, you boorish sac of sexual harassment!” A manicured finger stabbed at the end of the alleyway. “I’m not the brainless bunny bimbo you think I am, so take a hint and take a hike!”

Slowly, the well rusted gears in Oshida-san’s head began to grind through your words. Head low, he rose to his feet and hovered in silence like a spandex coated scarecrow. As the blood in your ears slipped from a violent roar to a muted rumble, the man before you lifted his chin. Dark, bottomless eyes and a hard snarl were your only warning. Thick fingers clamped down on your wrist with bruising force.

“I ASKED YOU WHAT YOU JUST CALLED ME YOU LITTLE SLUT!” he roared.

A sallow hand shot out, grabbing Oshida's head with four fingers.

“Come on now, it’s not her fault that you can’t take a hint,” a grating voice rasped in your ear.

“W-wait!” Oshida’s face turned snow white. “Aren’t you—?”

Croaking laughter filled the alley. “I mean seriously, she had to spam the Clue-by-Four just to get it through your thick skull.” Tomura’s eerie smile seemed to glow in the dark. “Tell me hero, how do you live with yourself when you’re that stupid?”

Your heart stopped as his pointer pressed against Oshida’s cheek. Crumbling grey ash scattered in the breeze.

Tomura sneered. “Guess you don’t have to now.”

Shaking hands clutched your face. “T-Tomura, what have you done?” you whispered.

“Rekt the n00b?”

“You just killed a hero, Tomura!” you yelled. “What the heck were you thinking?!”

Cocking his head, he stared at you. “Why are you upset? Do I need to save scum or something?”

“You can’t save scum IRL!”

Tomura scratched his neck. “Reality is lame.”

You crumpled to the ground. Terrified words tumbled from your lips. “Now I’m out a client and an accessory to murder!”

“So… I picked the wrong option?”

You glared up at him with bloodshot, watery eyes. “I’m a pro-hostess! Handling angry drunks and sexual harassment is my rice and miso!” you snarled. 

Tomura puzzled over your words, weighing your complaints carefully. After a few, slow blinks he smacked his fist into his palm. “Oh. You think I was trying to be heroic like that bad choice in your game, don’t you?”

“Yeah, good on you for remembering now.” You moaned, burying your face in your hands. “Screwed! I'm so screwed!”

A firm, four fingered grip dragged you to your feet. You fell flat against a lean chest.

“Come on then, let’s go,” he stated, tugging you toward the end of the alley.

“Oh no. No. Absolutely not! I’m not a princess and I don’t need to be saved!” you insisted, pulling hard against his hold. “My fluffy butt is gonna stay right here, remain silent, and Google a good defense attorney.”

A cold chuckle set your hair on end. You looked up, only to see red eyes bulging out of his skull. Primordial terror sent your heart flailing against your ribs.

“You don’t understand, do you?”

A hard arm caught you in the stomach. You gasped. The world spun. Peeling lips curled in delight as Tomura swept you over his boney shoulder. 

“I’m no hero,” he rasped. “I’m the villain and I just didn’t want some moron touching what’s mine.”

You thrashed against him, hammering his black hoodie with your fists. “TOMURA! PUT ME DOWN!”

Cold fingers dug into your bare, inner thigh. “I don’t have an amputee fetish but I wouldn’t find you less attractive without your legs.”

You froze solid.

“Smart move.” The hold on your thigh receded. He reached into his hoodie pocket and extracted his phone. “By the way, settle a bet.” Painfully bright blue light spilled into the dark alley as he swiped through the contact list. “I know you were lying about the lemon sours and champagne. Tell me your real favorite.”

Your eyes darted this way and that looking for a weapon. There was nothing within reach. Looks like you’d only survive by your wits alone which, given being witty put you in this position, didn’t seem all that promising. 

“S-sake bomb,” you stammered out.

“What are you, a salaryman or something?” he teased.

Your face burned hot. “Shut up, Orange Cassis!”

He lifted the microphone to smirking lips. “Hey, Kurogiri. I’m bringing my girlfriend back. Do we have the stuff for sake bombs?”

Girlfriend?! 

When a low voice burbled through the line, you snapped back to reality.

“Oh. Yeah. Hold on.” Tomura’s gaze swept the alley until he spotted the bag, lying forgotten on the pavement. “My hands are full. Grab it for me when you open the portal. It’s by my left shoe.”

“Portal? What are you—?”

Before you could finish, purple smoke engulfed the alley, swallowing your startled scream.

When the thick smoke cleared, you found yourself in a dank, beige room. The only light came from the hazy glow of dual OLED monitors atop a minimalist brown desk. Above this, tacked to the wall with enough dossiers to please even the most obsessive conspiracy theorist, was a well worn world map pockmarked with pin holes. Overcrowded shelves, packed with precariously leaning books and muscle-bound action figures hung above a squat, overflowing garbage can. To your right, a thin, stained carpet and well scratched chabudai sat on the floor. Ripe with the smell of stale cup ramen and sweaty bed sheets, the room howled “man child”.

Tomura kicked off his red sneakers, letting them thunk against one of the many overstuffed trash bags. It flopped to its side, knocking over empty two liters like a line of bowling pins. He shuffled past the clutter and set you on a rumpled pile of bedsheets. The mattress groaned. He crossed his arms.

“Don’t whine about the mess. That hero idiot forced me to speed run. I didn’t exactly have time to clean up.”

You stared at him. “Speed run?”

Ratty nails raked his neck. “I was going to follow you for a while. You know. Get a feel for what you liked before I brought you home.” He pointed to a shopping bag laying near the bed. “That was all I managed.”

“It’s… for me?”

The scratching intensified. “No, I just like cross dressing,” he snapped, jabbing his hand at the package again. “Yes, they’re for you. I had to talk Sensei out of some expensive silk crap, so be grateful.”

Holding your breath, you tore the plastic open and upended the contents into your lap. Crafted from super soft, fluffy polyester, a fuzzy pajama set spilled into your lap. The V neck crop tank and high waisted shorts looked like something an e-girl would use to cosplay a kawaii teddy bear. A matching thigh-length robe, complete with oversized hood and baggy sleeves, took the look from “my furry fantasy” to “comfy cozy”.

…this actually looked like something you would wear.

You held the tank against your chest. The fit was alarmingly correct. When you glanced up, Tomura’s excited smile wrinkled his nose.

“You casual-up cute.”

Steam poured from your ears

He leaned forward, reaching for the zipper of your dress. You scooted back, colliding with the wall. With an eye roll, Tomura kneeled on the bed, crawling toward you. One hand caught your shoulder. The other grabbed for the tab.

“So you can touch me but not the other way around? Did you honestly expect me to be okay with that?”

“That’s normal for a hostess and client!” you protested.

He sneered, his husky voice rasping in your ear. “You went pretty far out of your way to lose me as a client, remember ?”

Tooth by tooth, the zipper crawled down to your hemline. Tomura peeled open the slinky outfit. Red eyes roamed over your flesh toned satin bra and simple, smooth seamed panties. He sniggered, his fingers trailing down your waist.

“Wow… talk about low effort.”

You glared at him.

“Oh come on. I’m not mad or anything. Pretty obvious you never meant for any of those guys to see these. Makes me feel pretty special.” He hooked his thumbs under the waistline of your panties and began to shuffle them down. “Besides, it’s not like you’ll be needing them anyways.”

A shaking hand caught his shoulder. "W-what are you doing?!"

He glared at you. “I want to see,” he demanded, yanking harder.

"Then look at hentai or something!”

“You got to see mine,” he deadpanned.

“You got a blow job out of it!”

Tomura clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “...and you left me with blue balls.”

“You got more than I did!”

He broke into an eerie grin. “Oh? Did you want more?”

You froze.

Five fingers clamped down on the stretchy fabric. Powder ash tickled across your thighs.

Shadows filled his wrinkled smile. “I can do that," he declared, pointing to his nose.

"Hey! Hold on!" You shoved his shoulder. It was like pushing on a brick wall.

Tomura leaned in, reaching for your bra. Your leg jerked. He bucked up and caught your knee just below his crotch. He growled, squeezing hard in the divots on both sides of the joint.

"Did you forget what happens if you jump around too much?"

Panicked eyes flashed to long, calloused fingers before jumping to his face. The predatory, blood red stare pinned you like a bear trap. Burning breath caught in your chest. Numb lips opened, closed and opened again. With no air to carry the words, you squeezed your eyes shut. Tears welled in your lashes.

“Hey… come on now.” His thumb hooked under your chin, lifting your head. “I wouldn’t make you my girlfriend if I wanted to kill you.” He patted your cheek. “You can move all you want in a minute. Just let me check something first.”

“Check what?” you whispered.

He snorted. “You’re the one that told me to Google it.”

Grabbing your other knee, Tomura pried your legs centimeter by centimeter. Scratchy hands scraped down your bare, inner thighs. Goosebumps prickled across your arms. By the time he’d butterflied you open to his hungry gaze, you felt the tickle and torn nails on sensitive skin. With a crooked finger on either side, he parted your lower lips, staring deep inside. He paused, shifting his body until the pale light of the dual monitors drove away the shadows. You stiffened when one pointer tapped the tacky tissue.

“Should have known,” he muttered, sitting back on his haunches. “The color isn’t right and you’re not wet.”

Your face caught fire. “You actually Googled the receptive period signs?! Seriously?!”

Shigaraki ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “Guess it was too much to ask for a high spec target like you to give me beginner mode, huh?”

High spec, huh? Okay.... Bonus points for that, crusty boy.

“Beginner… mode?” You puzzled over the word for a moment before a startling conclusion slammed into your brain. Sweat beaded down your neck. Your words stumbled out. “Wait… I knew you were bad with girls but… are you… are you really a…?”

Tomura scowled at you, scratching his neck. “So what? You gonna look down on me or something?”

Oh… so… you let touch starved, crazy, virgin stick his dick in you? Your mind whirled, quickly calculating what fresh hell you had brought upon yourself.

public static void calculateChanceOfEscape(int levelOfCrazy, boolean isFirstLove, int qualityOfPreviousBlowjob){int abilityToEscape =0;  if (isFirstLove==true){  int touchStarvedFactor = qualityOfPreviousBlowjob*2; abilityToEscape= levelOfCrazy*touchStarvedFactor; }  Else{ abilityToEscape = levelOfCrazy*10;  } int chanceOfEscape = 100 - abilityToEscape;  System.out.println("Your chance of escape is "+chanceOfEscape+ "%");  }  public static void main(String[] args) { calculateChanceOfEscape(10, true, 10); } CalculateChanceOfEscape(levelOfCrazy 10, isFirstLove: true, qualityOfPreviousBlowjob 10);

…

…

…

Output - Chance Of Escape = -100%

Sweat beaded down your brow. Slowly, softly, you started to speak. “Hey… Tomura. I swear, I didn’t mean to—”

A hard hand slammed into the wall beside you. Crumbling paint dusted your shoulder. Bulging, bloodshot eyes stared into your soul. “Didn’t mean to what ?!”

Craaaaaaaappppppppppppp!

As you whimpered, his dead stare softened to a confused head tilt. “Oh. Wait. Of course you didn’t. It’s not like you can control what time of the month it is.” He broke into an eerie grin. “Ah… so that’s why you put me through that tutorial, right?”

…tutorial? What was he—?

“If I just do the things you had the player do in game, you should be able to warm up without any problems.” He cackled, ruffling your hair. “Geeze. Next time, just say something if you need me to grind first.”

In one sweep, Tomura slammed you down onto the mattress. Old springs squealed in protest as grey swirls over took your vision. Fighting through the ringing in your ears, you squinted up at him.

“Ooops. I’m used to going PvP with Tanks, but your build is more of a Glass Cannon, huh?” [8]

You groped for a hold on old, pilling sheets. Tomura shuffled between your legs. Five fingers plucked your bra strap. Warm breath fanned across your ribs. Dust tumbled from your body.

“You’re lucky I read a lot of walk-throughs.”

Pinky up, Tomura grabbed your breasts with both hands, squeezing the soft tissue with excessive force. When you whined, he lifted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Still too hard, huh?” he muttered, shifting himself against your bare core. “Right. I’ll lower the input then.”

Loosing his boney grip, he rolled his hands over your breast before raising them a few milliliters. Back and forth, his palm tickled across your skin. As your nipples began to harden, well chewed thumbs circled their tips. Pinching the nub between thumb and forefinger, he teased both sides of you into puckered peaks. 

Electric pleasure clamped tight into already tense muscles. Your back arched. An airy gasp escaped.

“Oh? Like that, huh?”

Waves of pale blue tickled your skin. Sour breath wrinkled your nose. You tried to scoot out of his grasp. It was no use. One hand pulled away from your chest before clamping on your thigh.

“Kinda hot when you squirm for me,” he groaned. “Just no sudden movements, all right?”

Before you could reply, Tomura’s mouth engulfed the tip of your breast. Slow suction teased raw skin between his teeth. As sharp teeth trapped the taunt nipple, nimble fingers continued their relentless assault on the other side. 

“Tomura—!” you yelped. “Time out! Time out!”

The man above you shivered. “You really expect me to stop when you say my name like that?”

“Seriously Tomu-AH!” 

Frantic protests melted into an embarrassing moan when a moist tongue flicked over hot flesh. Your hands balled into the sheets. His head bobbed with each erotic suckle, leaving you writhing into musky bedding. His flat pillow felt crusty under your cheek. Like he was trying to eat you alive, Tomura nipped a bruising trail down your body. 

“Tomura. Please,” you begged. “Please listen to me.”

He paused, resting his cheek against your inner thigh. Scratchy hairs from his five o’clock shadow scraped delicate skin. You shuddered. Whiney words slipped from dry lips as you stared up at him through tear -eyes. 

“Not like this. This is too fast.”

Tomura scowled. “You need me to slow it down more?” He grumbled to himself, hitching your hips higher. “Fine. I guess you did it for me after all.”

His slick tongue dove between your lower lips. A needy gasp torn from your throat. Your hips bucked. Pinkies still raised, Tomura clamped down on your body, leaving deep dents in your thighs. His wide, flat tongue stroked from bottom to top in languid laps. When he reached the tender nub at the top, you jolted again. He paused and swirled over the area a second time. One whimper from you and a naughty grin slipped onto his face.

“Well, that wasn’t that hard to find.”

Electric pleasure shot up your nerves as cracking lips encircled your swollen clit. Every wet suck dragged the air from your lungs. Trembling legs clenched around his shoulders, burning him in a vice grip of quivering thighs. A moment's reprieve gave you just enough time to watch him flatten his tongue before redoubling his efforts. Time blurred. Errant thoughts caught in a cloud of lewd indulgence. By the time he pulled away, your drool stained his pillow.

Slowly staggering from the fog, your hazy focus drifted down to the man between your legs. Stray curses accompanied violent efforts to shed skin tight jeans. A vicious tug tore the tab off his zipper. With a feral snarl he slapped a hand to his newfound enemy, decaying the denim into a pile of ash. Ratty cotton briefs landed in a pile on the floor. 

Tomura’s swollen cock bobbed against your mound, leaving a pool of sticky precum on your skin. He pumped himself twice, licking his dry lips. As the slick tip prodded your twitching entrance, a wave of panic slammed you back to reality.

“NO!”

Tomura caught your wrists. You clawed the air mere centimeters from his face.

“Condom!” you demanded breathlessly. “You have to use a condom!”

“Huh?” He wrinkled his nose. “Why?”

“Rabbits are induced ovulators, remember?” you stressed, pulling against him. “It’s the act that causes the egg to drop, not the time of the month!”

Tomura froze. Red eyes stared through you. “You… don’t… have safe days?”

“Yes! Exactly!” You sighed with relief, flopping back into the mattress. “Geeze. Don’t scare me like that. I thought I’d never get through to you.”

Wait. Why did your hands feel numb?

All at once, a bone chilling cold blanketed your body. You turned your head. Tomura’s fingers dug hard into your wrists. You tried to wiggle your fingers. The bones creaked against his ruthless grip. As you strained against him, his body started to tremble.

“Hey… Tomura? A-are you okay?” you whispered. 

Glowing red eyes locked onto yours. Horrified, you watched as a hideous grin split his face from ear to ear. With a savage yank, he dragged your mouth to his. The ravenous kiss split your lip. You yelped. He lapped at the blood with a low moan. More biting than caressing, his embrace left your skin burning. Panting, he finally pulled away. Hot, sour breath fanned your cheek. 

In an instant, the world turned upside down. Forced face first into crusty cotton, his filthy sheets stifled your startled squeak. You climbed to your elbows, only to be yanked backwards into his boney lap. Tomura hurriedly shoved his shabby pillow underneath your body. As soon as you were properly propped, he grabbed your hips with bruising force. He leaned over your body, pinning you with his weight.

“So,” he rasped in your ear. “If I knock you up, you’d have to stay with me right?”

Your heart screeched to a halt. 

“Wait. No.” Dark chuckles poured from his chest. “You’d want to stay with me, so I can take care of you.” He buried his head against your spine, grinning madly into your back. “I don’t dislike that idea.”

“Wait a second! That’s not what I—”

His moist cock prodded your entrance. “Doesn’t matter what you meant. You put the idea in my head.” Sinister giggling shook both of you. “You better take responsibi~lity. ❤”

With a hiss, Tomura sunk himself inside you. Traitorous folds, soft and pliable from his earlier attentions, parted easily with each stilted thrust. Terrified to struggle one finger too far, you went limp in his hold. It did you little good. Clamped down tight on the wings of your hips, Tomura dragged your listless body further and further along his shaft. Slimy drool spilled from cracking lips, weaving a cold, tickling trail down the side of your ribs.

“You feel so good,” he moaned.

Cheek pressed into the mattress, every pop of your spine left you gritting your teeth. His blankets balled in your fists. Tender nipples grazed the bedding, back and forth until the unmistakable tingle of pleasure rippled across your skin. The coarse cotton cover of his musty pillow clipped your clit. Raw friction burned your nerves.

When Tomura rutted against your deepest wall, you barely muffled your breathy shriek.

He reached down, turning your jaw. “Oh come on. Don’t be like that.” With a husky purr, he untagged the stray strands caught in the corner of your mouth. “I wanna hear them. The little noises you make just for me.”

You whimpered, twisting into the mattress.

With a snarl, he wrapped his arms around your chest and dragged you up onto your elbows.

“I said, I want to hear you,” he growled, grinding into your body.

You gasped.

“See? Not so hard, was it?”

Tomura slowed himself, taking long drags instead of bouncing beats. He pulled out to the tip. A crooked finger stretched your entrance open. His spongey head circled for a second, painting your skin with the mix of your fluids. The cold air battered your exposed core, sending shivers up your spine. He paused, trailing the digit down your cunt like an artist, admiring his work. Then, he plunged back in, stretching you over his length.

Slow thrusts pushed you back into the scraggly pillow. Tears rolled down your cheeks. With each deep dive, your aching clit grated against scratchy fabric. Crawling need clawed its way up your body, merging with the tingling at your breasts. Tense teeth parted as a strained whine slipped from your lips.

“Oh?”

He shifted forward, pressing you harder against the bedding. The next plunge strained against your walls, leaving you trapped between twin pleasures. Shaking knees buckled into the foam. Back arching, your cunt clenched tight around him.

Tomura sneered, bringing his full weight to bare on your back. “That’s it. Don’t think. Just focus on how good it feels to be full of my cock.”

Tangled in his vice grip, there was nothing you could do but accept his pace. Languid teasing turned into firm friction. Tomura groped for your breast. Boney fingers rubbed hard circles into your sensitive nub. Wet, erotic clicks from between your legs laid the backbeat of a blissful melody. The world slipped away until only desperate need filled your every thought. 

“T-Tomura.” You squirmed under him, toes curled in the air. “Ah— So close... I…”

“Do it. Come on my cock.” He panted in your ear. Teeth gnashing, he clutched you tight.  “Wanna feel you milking me. Hah… Taking my cum so deep.”

Ice flooded your veins. “Stop!” you begged, shoving against him with all your strength. “Please, stop!”

He grunted, his movements speeding inside you. “Couldn’t—ha! Even if I w-wanted to.”

“No! ” you shrieked, clawing at the blankets. “Pull out! Take it out, Tomura!”

Locking himself cheek to cheek, he canted his pelvis to a steeper angle. Shallow, sharp pulses reverberated through your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure twitching through your flesh. His swollen head bore down on your front wall, dragging your puffy clit against his pillow. Swirling vision speckled as tipped over the edge.

“Ah… Gonna breed you.” He pounded into your hips. “Fill your cunt with my cum.”

With one last groan, Tomura’s cock pulsed, painting your insides with his release.

Quivering in his arms, salty tears dribbled down your jaw. You buried your face in the blankets. Wretched sobbing shook your frame.

“Hey now,” he purred, petting your rumpled hair. “It’s okay.” He rolled onto his side, yanking you into his chest. He squeezed you once before letting his hand wander to your belly. “I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it.” 

You sniffled and loosed a bitter whine.

“It’ll be fine.” He shushed you like a child, tracing delicate circles across your belly. “We'll raise the kid, and then we can raze this whole society, together. After all, I want to give my girlfriend what she really wants.”

You stiffened in his grasp.

He pressed a scratchy kiss to your raw cheek before muttering: “Way more you than some tacky pink rock.”

🐇 ~Fin~ 🐇

Need more dark romance with hot yandere villains? Check out my original reader insert novel:

Maid For Your Master by Afipia Felis

Available world wide in paperback and ebook.

CW available here

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"...It also has a lovely dark plot that really gives off the best historical tropes in a really well thought out world :)..." - (Amazon Kindle)

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Artwork:

Chapter Seven Excerpt By NoNoBadCat

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[chuckeroo777]

Dungeon Meshi Volume 11 Part 2

Hoo boy. Here come what are probably my two least favorite chapters.

I'd get as sauced as Marcille is, but sadly, I am an Izutsumi when it comes to alcohol.

Please don't eat that. You don't know where it's been.

Yeah, even if you resist the mental effects, hangovers are physiological, not psychological.

Laios is a good man.

:D He did it! He remembered the name!

This party has exactly one (1) member with proper social skills.

Ah, so that's what happened to that slime. Must have missed it with how much I skim these chapters. (My particular anxieties can't handle this sort of situation)

Followup questions people. If you asked him a single question about what he intends to do with that power, you'd realize he's like, the least ambitions dungeon lord ever. Seriously, his current plan is to move this spot to the top, then figure out the rest later.

She's clinging to Laios like a teddy bear. I love it. Also, are those blocks of cheese in your pants, or are you happy to see me?

God I hate this chapter. The canaries just string her along for half a chapter to make a fool of herself. I don't know why they would bother other than to be cruel. (And make me squirm.)

Wait, Cithis was the only one who knew this was a farce? Geez, I knew I hated her for a reason.

Oh god, you are happy to see me. Please stop. (This is gonna be so funny animated.)

I'll give them this, when they aren't being creepily sexy, or actively ruining people's lives, the demon is pretty cool looking.

So, do you think the demon bleeds, or is it pitch black like the void?

They're just such good friends guys.

But seriously, Falin is VERY intense when her friends are on the line. I am seriously struggling to figure out an ending in my AU that doesn't involve Falin sacrificing herself to save everyone. I just want everyone to have a happy ending, gosh darn it!

This is such a good running joke/plot device.

These three are unbelievably ride or die. To a dangerously unstable degree. I love them, but it's probably for the best that Falin takes a break to figure herself out.

See, this is why Laios was their first choice.

Like, if it actually could do that, then a philosophical argument could be made, but you can't actually create humans, only monsters that look like them, like the doppelganger or naga.

Alright, we have our new villain(?)! We'll see what happens next in a final Volume 11 post.

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: such a silly chapter… i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: drugs (shrooms), hallucinations, death, mentions of animal death, mentions of cannibalism, kissing, mention of knives, mention of blood, attempted murder… tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Seventeen - Doomcoming

Chapter Seventeen - Doomcoming

—-

1996-

The girls spend the next day making dried flower crowns and corsages, measuring and cutting out each small thing. You think it's like a replacement for the trophies they would have gotten at Nationals.

All of the girls pool their makeup together, since it's the end of world, not caring about getting things dirty. You grab the makeup that would look best with your silvery-purple dress, bought specifically to make you blend into the background- there only because you had been a part of the team, writing about them every spare chance, going to every game.

Eventually, night rolls around, and you think about putting your bandages back on- but you don’t. You aren’t sure if Natalie was lying about you being beautiful, but a part of you just doesn’t care. A part of you just wants to believe her.

—-

“Let the doomcoming begin!” Lottie shouts, and Javi bangs on a piece of scrap metal from the plane, and everyone slowly starts filing into the small clearing, passing through strings of paper hanging around the entrance. You had made a small wreath of flowers for yourself, lucky to find a few flowers that were still vibrant, purple on top of your head.

You walk in with Travis, which feels odd, and it’s entirely possible he just feels pity for the poor, sad girl who lost the girlfriend she never even had.

She stares at you, and you know it’s her, because no one ever makes you feel storms in your stomach like she does. When you finally find the courage to look over at her, telling yourself it’s just curiosity, it feels like the earth is shaking apart.

You’re the best thing at this party. In your light silvery dress, you feel like your being lost to the wind- but how long could you and Natalie be like this before you were gone forever?

And why would she even do anything for you? The girl who had just wanted just her so much, with a fierceness like you knew you would never really have her. Not here. Not in the wilderness.

You swallow and look away, listening to Javi and Travis talk quietly. Van and Taissa walk in together, wearing matching masks. To cover the scars on Van’s face, you realize after a moment. It’s obvious Van is nervous by the why she hides into Taissa, whether about the way they hold hands, or about her face, you don’t know.

They stop at the edge of the circle.

Taissa grabs Van’s face and kisses her hard, in front of everyone, not caring about anything.

Joking about the throuple was fun, but you doubt anyone actually ever thought you were together.

But maybe if Natalie hadn’t lied, maybe if Jackie had never even told you, then you would be kissing right next to them.

Everyone claps and cheers, and your eyes meet Natalie’s, but this time she looks away first.

—-

The soup they pass around is about as good as it normally is, with the addition of some nice mushrooms Misty was apparently saving for a special occasion, and you find yourself eating all of it quickly, wondering about seconds, knowing there won’t be any.

There won’t be any food soon.

You walk over to Travis, not sure what you’re going to say, but you just miss having someone to stand next to, and you’re sick of feeling alone.

“You look nice,” he says after a moment, and you chuckle. He smiles too, because both of you know that you still want her.

“You look nice too, Travis,” you say, and he goes to say something else before Jackie rests her hand on her shoulder. You look over your shoulder, and she’s only staring at Travis-

“Travis,” she smiles. “Come over here. You’re fine, right, Y/N?”

Travis looks at you awkwardly, confused like you, and you’re not exactly sure what to say.

“Um… ok?”

“Great!” she smiles, and squeezes your shoulder, giving you an unexpected kiss on the cheek.

It’s casual. Obviously platonic, since it’s obvious she’s been trying to sink her claws into Travis- but still. It’s unexpected.

Travis walks away after another moment of shifting on his feet, and you’re left there with the memory of her lips on your skin.

She was not Natalie. And no one ever would be. And maybe she lied to you- but maybe you’ve lied to her too. Maybe you’ve been lying to yourself.

Coach clinks his glasses together with Van and Tai’s, but Lottie rushes forward.

“Stop.” She looks around. “We should have a moment of silence for Laura Lee.”

And even the forest falls silent, the wind stopping, and you find yourself thinking about the way she held that stuffed bear, the way she gave him his own seat.

“To Laura Lee.” Tai says after a moment, raising her glass.

“Laura Lee,” everyone echoes.

And you let the bitterness slide down your throat, waiting to work up the courage to walk over to Natalie and apologize.

“What now?” someone asks.

“Now, we just need a DJ to pump up the volume,” Jackie smiles.

“What we need is a slow dance!” Misty pipes in, looking at Coach. He looks away.

“Ba-da-da, ba-da-da-da-da-da, ba-da-da,” Lottie sings, staring into the fire. A few of the girls chuckle, joining in on the vocals, until everyone is singing, and Taissa starts the first verse.

“There used to be a graying tower…” she starts, putting down her drink.

“…alone on the sea,” everyone joins in. “You became the light, On the dark side of me, Love remained…”

You look at Natalie, who watches the dancers and the singers with a smile, and you think about everything in your heart that remains for her.

Everyone shouts, singing the chorus, and Travis walks over to you.

“Thanks,” he says, holding his hand out.

You smile, and take his hand. “For what?”

“For not giving up on me. I know… I know I’ve been an asshole.”

He drags you out onto the dance floor, putting his hands casually around your waist, the way friends do.

“You’re a great person, Travis. I’m sorry that people were too stupid to see that before.”

You stop swaying, and he pulls you into a tight hug suddenly, and you laugh and hug him back. Being with Natalie is something you can never have with anyone else, but Travis is nice. He likes you as a friend, he likes you, and that is almost as nice as the way Natalie likes you.

“Spare a dance for me?” Jackie smiles, this time grabbing your wrist, trying to tug you away from Travis. Your mind feels a little hazy, but you just want to find Natalie. So, you mumble something and let her and Travis go off.

When you turn around, Natalie and Coach aren’t anywhere to be seen.

—-

The more the trees start to twist and curve, the less weird you find it and the more funny you think it is.

It’s like they’re all curving around you, making this little cocoon, this path, leading you straight where you want to go.

Antlers keep flashing all around you, and you get all excited, thinking about sinking your teeth into raw flesh, cooked flesh, anything that is food in your stomach.

But just as the antlers are there, they’re gone, and only the trees are left.

The forest guides you to wherever you want to go, but you can’t seem to remember where.

But a name keeps ringing in your mind, over and over again. Natalie, Natalie.

—-

By the time darkness falls, the wolves have started howling, but you can’t even find it scary. Everything is too much and not enough, the trees growing bigger and smaller and changing by the second, and you can’t keep up with which way you came and which you’re going.

You can’t stop laughing.

“Natalie,” you keep mumbling. “Natalie, Natalie.”

You find yourself back at the cabin.

No sign of Natalie, and for some reason, that feels like the most heartbreaking thing in the world. And the more you think about her, the more of what you wanted to say to her comes back, until the darkness starts scaring you again and you’re crying, wandering the woods, looking for a lost woman in the light of the full moon.

“Y/N?” someone asks, and you turn to find her silhouetted by the light of the moon, Natalie, your Natalie, her lipstick smeared and the straps of her cheetah print dress falling, revealing her bright red bra.

“Natalie!” you shout, smiling again, wiping away your tears. Her face is stricken with tears too, and she’s smiling so wide, and you’re not sure when you reach each other, but suddenly her arms are around you.

“I-I’ve been looking for you,” she mutters, running her hands through your hair.

You gasp. “I have been too!”

She places her hand against your face, her thumb rubbing your cheek.

“I think I have something to tell you, Nat, but I can’t remember- and, oh, have you noticed the trees? How they’re moving?”

“My hand moved weird. But, Y/N, I- why did Jackie kiss you? I don’t want her to kiss you. I want to kiss you.”

“Oh! That’s what I was going to tell you!” she starts rubbing your face, muttering about getting Jackie off of you. “I want to kiss you, too, and I know we did before, and I don’t care about anything anymore, because it’s Doomcoming! And we’re all gonna die soon-”

She stares into your eyes, her hands touching everywhere, and she leans in enough so all you can see is her. And Natalie is everything.

“And I-I wanna die with you, Natalie. I wanna die with you.”

She smiles in a lovesick way, happy and giddy.

She presses her lips against yours, and the trees fade into the background, the sounds of the animals calling out to each other, until you’re barely grasping onto each other and stumbling through the forest, gasping about the cabin, and she says nightshade over and over, and all you can do is stare at the moon and feel her lips on your neck.

She pulls back when you almost trip over each other, pressing her hands against your face, scrunching your lips together.

She stares at you, and you stare back, until she smiles again.

“I love you,” she says, like she’s just found the secret to the world.

“Help! Help!” someone shouts, from far away, and you look towards the noise, forgetting about what happened, the very human screaming and the passing time making the trees stop growing and shrinking.

“Natalie?” you ask, and she looks towards the directions of the screams.

“S’not- s’not me,” she mumbles.

“Snot,” you giggle, but she’s dragging you towards where you came from, the cabin, and someone starts screaming louder- or are you just closer?

Finally, she leaves you standing on the front porch, running inside, where you hear a lock click and a door creak open.

Jackie rushes out a few moments later, not even sparing you a glance, and Natalie follows soon after, her eyes wide and breathing heavy.

“I-I think we have to go…” she says.

“But, I want- I wanna-”

She stares at Jackie running into the woods.

“Where’s the other girls? Where’s Travis?”

“You’re here, though,” you say, confused as to why she’s talking about everyone else when she’s been looking for you all night. Doesn’t she want you now that she finally found you? “I want you-”

A howl cuts through the forest. Not an animal, you realize suddenly. But human.

Then, Natalie tugs on your wrist and you start running through the forest.

—-

The sprint made your head become a little clearer, and you kept thinking back to the mushrooms in the stew- but you didn’t know why they were so important. All you know is that something weird happened to all of you, and now something even worse is happening.

When you break through the clearing, Nat is the first to realize what’s going on.

“What the fuck?!” she yells, and your vision goes in and out of focus- “Stop!”

Travis is tied up to a stump, a pine cone in his mouth, with Shauna’s knife against his throat.

“Oh, my God!” you shout, running towards him and ripping the pine cone out of his mouth, practically throwing yourself on top of him as you scramble to find the knots holding him to the stump.

Something metal falls to the ground.

“Nat! The knife!” Jackie shouts, and both of you whip around to see Lottie going to the knife, but Natalie runs and throws herself to the ground, standing up and brandishing the knife towards Lottie.

Travis’s eyes droop, and he raises the one hand you’ve managed to untie to his neck. Bright red blood drips down onto his smooth skin.

“You’re bleeding!” you shriek- but something is wrong with him, something is deeply wrong with all of you- and he doesn’t answer.

Natalie turns around and reaches out towards him, but he pushes her away, and he pushes you away, even while you scramble to help him with his wound, Nat asking if he’s okay-

“I’m fine,” he breathes, and runs away from the two of you.

You watch him disappear into the forest, and the trees bend around him, so Natalie turns back around.

You stumble, unsure of what to do, when Lottie suddenly slams into Natalie and tries to grab the knife from her.

“It’s in all of us, you know. Even you.” She looks around Nat. “Even her.”

Natalie pushes her away, and she falls to the ground, and you have to lean against the stump, your breath heavy from running.

“That’s enough of your weird fucking bullshit, Lottie. Haven’t you done enough?!”

Lottie laughs, hysterically, slowly rising up from the ground, and Natalie holds the knife out with both hands, ready.

“It’s in all of us,” Lottie whispers, swaying on her feet. “You don’t see it yet, Natalie, but soon everyone will.” She raises a shaky hand towards you, taking a step forward. “Everyone will see it the way she sees it.”

Natalie looks back at you, and you stare at her with wide, horrified eyes, your lipstick and hers smeared over your face, the rotten berry booze dripping down your chest and your flower crown crooked.

She turns back to Lottie.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” she shouts, brandishing the knife, and Lottie steps back, laughing, laughing, falling to the ground again.

Natalie grabs your hand and you’re running again, except you’re staring at the full moon- at the doom, and the coming of it.

They were right. This night marks the start of it.

Winter is not coming. It is here. And with winter comes the hunger and the cold.

But doom- which much more than that, which is the release of everything you can’t hide here in the wilderness- is just starting.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[kittyt-hexxed]

Book Two of Hexed - The Fury of Zaun (Vi × POC!Reader) - Ch.21

Next Upload Date: December 29th

Act 2: Chapter Twenty-One - Piltover Gets Jinxed!

Warnings: Bombing, Animals set free, Collapsed building, Vi and Jinx meet for the first time, sister bonding, Jinx’s Birthday

Summary: It’s Jinx’s birthday and she’s celebrating in a way that lets Piltover know that she’s still there. Vi gets to see her sister again, and they have a moment.

The Rapids and the Grotto were buzzing with activity before the sun even rose. Both places were decorated for Jinx’s birthday and people were chatting excitedly. Preparations for the main event are in the process of being completed, with last-minute adjustments being made. Jinx was practically vibrating with excitement and bouncing up and down the place. One moment she was here and the next she was across the way talking off Ekko’s ear. This was her first birthday party in years. Not only is she spending it with people, but she gets to cause trouble in the process. The only person missing was Vi.

You sat perched in the tree, watching as everyone worked together to make the day possible. While it was Jinx’s birthday, it was also the first official move you’d be making towards the war. Jinx had wanted to do something fun so you came up with it. The party involved a couple of fun gadgets, fireworks, a bomb or two, and a target. You’d be using some stolen cameras to broadcast the event to the people of Zaun. Everything had been secured the week before and the hidden viewing rooms were all hooked up to the network. Piltover’s technological genius just so happened to be a Zaunite.

Jinx’s door opened and the blue-haired maniac came staggering out with a big device in her arms. Ekko emerged behind her with a duplicate of it in his arms. They were big rockets that would be launched from atop the Councilor’s Building. True to her theme, they were decorated like sharks with wide grins on their faces. While you were supplying Jinx with the means to cause a ruckus, you didn’t know how she was going to do it. And, you were excited about it. This was part of your plans where you weren’t obsessing over every detail. You get to sit back and watch it all happen.

Jinx notices you in the tree and waves you over. You stand up and jump off the branch, dropping down onto your hoverboard, and make your way to her. She has a huge grin on her face, not too unlike the ones she drew on the rockets.

“I’m officially nineteen today!” Jinx says, hopping in place.

“You are!” You throw an arm over her shoulders, “You’re getting to be old.”

“At least I’m not a grandma yet, like Sevika.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Ekko chuckles, “She’ll turn you into one.” That makes the two of you flinch. You remember the screaming from the last person who cracked a joke like that.

“Right. Right.” Jinx nods slowly. The three of you walk to the main building and a large group of people greets you. They welcome you warmly as they finish connecting the big screen. You grin as it shows you and Jinx standing there.

“Finishing touches are almost done!” Someone in the back shouted, “Going live in ten seconds!”

That kicks up a frenzy in the room and Ekko ducks away to give someone the rocket in his hands. You and Jinx are guided to an empty area with cameras pointing at it. You eye the cameras a little apprehensive. They screamed “Made in Zaun” by the way they looked. You’ve only seen others in front of them. Being in front of them made you feel very out of place. This wasn’t technology Zaun possessed. This was exclusive to Piltover. To be around this stuff was a reminder that Zaun was finally making progress.

“Go ahead and speak, my Lady.” Lizette gives you a thumbs up. You nod at her and face the camera.

“Good morning, Zaun. Today we’re celebrating Jinx’s birthday in the only way it should be done for a demo specialist.” You smirk, feeling excited about what’s to come, “We’re blowing shit up. You got any words before we let you loose, Jinxy?”

“Helloooo, Zaun!” Jinx tosses the rocket to the left and someone frantically catches it, “I’ll be taking you all around Topside, so keep an eye on those screens!” She winks, “I hope you’re ready for Piltover’s Treasury to go BOOM!” She mimics an explosion with her hands and starts laughing. The grin on her face could only be described as deranged as everyone screamed their agreement in excitement. You and Ekko share a look before you turn your attention back to Jinx. It’s going to be a fun day.

~

Jinx could feel the wind blowing her braids around. She is standing atop the Councilor’s Building and looking out over Piltover. It gave her the best view of the city and she was thankful for the custom hoverboard Ekko had surprised her with so she didn’t have to scale the damn thing. She would have done it, but that didn’t mean she’d enjoy it.

Her target is to her left. It is one of the few notable buildings in the city. The Treasury. She didn’t even want to think about how much money there was made on the back of her city. The people in the mines who lost their lives trying to put food on their tables. The gangsters resorted to more dangerous jobs that would guarantee them a stay in the Hold. Even the Chem-Barons stopped being a point of stability and turned into corrupt bosses scraping for money themselves. And, Vi.

Jinx’s grip on her rocket launcher tightened. Thrown into Stillwater and taken from her before they could even be a family. Who is now forced to side with the people who took their parents from them. She grits her teeth but takes a deep breath to calm herself down. She takes a moment to collect herself, thinking about all of the fun things she’s about to do. Piltover is going to become her playground for the day.

“You look like you’re thinking too much.” Ekko’s voice sounds in her ear.

“Just thinking about the best way to do this.” She responds, her eyes scanning the city below her. “I don’t want to go to the Treasury immediately. I need a distraction.”

“You’ve always wanted to see the zoo, right? You should stop by.”

“Perfect idea!” Jinx grins, running and leaping off of the roof. Her feet hit the hoverboard and she can feel it humming as she travels. She drops down enough so people outside won’t be able to see her. The zoo would be closed by now. They tucked all of the animals away before the snowfall got too heavy. Since it snowed yesterday, the gates were locked and no one was inside.

That made Jinx feel excited as she dropped to the ground. She has the whole place to herself! ‘Since the people of Zaun are watching, I should make this fun for them, too!’ She thinks. She ran around the zoo as if she was a tourist. Reading the plaques they had placed by all the animals' enclosures and sneaking inside of them to get a peek. Her favorite had to be the rhino and she made a mental note to go back to it.

“Now that we’ve taken a tour, it’s time to decorate the place!” Jinx whips out her spray cans and crayons. She cackles as she graffitis the place, making little doodles everywhere without worrying about any Enforcers showing up. Once she was done with the building, she turned her attention to the animals.

“You know… I think they deserve a chance to roam free, don’t you?” Jinx tilts her head in the direction she knew the hidden camera was with a dark grin.

~

Vi let out a long exhale, watching her breath turn into mist in front of her. She had a love and hate for the winter months. Both she and her sister were born around this time. And, it was her mother’s favorite time of the year. They would leave the fissure to make snowmen until their fingers got so cold they struggled to move them. She could remember the first time she hit Powder with a snowball. Her little cheeks turned pink as she gave Vi a look of excitement. It was a lot of fun until they both fell sick. Yet, their mother continued to do it with them every year.

“You look sad.” Kevin says, his footfall pattern giving him away before he even spoke.

“How perceptive of you.” Vi says without looking at him.

“Oh, come on, Vi. You’re as cold as the weather!” Kevin groans, leaning against the railing next to her. “Warm up a bit, huh?”

“Why don’t you have a smoke?” Gina approaches and holds out the pack. She was alright for an Enforcer. She took the job because it was the only one that allowed her to spend most of her day at home with her kids. She usually takes the night shifts but switched over since her husband lost his job. “That usually warms me up on days like this.”

“I don’t smoke.” Vi shakes her head. That was a lie. She smoked her share of cigarettes when she was younger. She wasn’t a fan of them. She preferred the herb that Sevika had snuck her. It was a purple color and tasted like a smoked fruit. She had begged Sevika to smuggle her in a pack in return for a favor. It was a birthday present for when she turned fifteen. Sevika declined but made her swear to never tell Vander about it. She had a craving for them every once in a while for how relaxed they made her feel.

“You’re better than me.” Gina lights up one, “It’s a habit I picked up from University. Ten years later and I can’t crack it.”

“Don’t talk about classes,” Kevin sighs, “I’ve got a paper due in two days, so I’ll be working on that when I go home.”

“And, you, Vi?”

“What about me?”

“What are you going to do when you go home? I’ve got kids to watch over. Kevin’s got a paper. What about you?”

“It’s my little sister’s birthday.” Vi rubs the tattoo on her wrist, “I’m going to head down and find her so I can give her the gift I got her.”

“You have a sister?!” Kevin gasps, yelping in pain as Gina cuffs him over the head.

“Yeah. I just… don’t talk about her much.” Vi shrugs, “We haven’t talked in a while.”

“THE ANIMALS FROM THE ZOO ESCAPED! I REPEAT - THE ANIMALS FROM THE ZOO HAVE ESCAPED AND ARE FREE IN THE CITY!” Caitlyn’s voice shouts over the comms, “I NEED ALL UNITS WORKING ON CONTAINMENT NOW!”

“What? How’s that even possible?!” Gina furrows her brow.

“It’s not.” Vi says, watching a spray-painted rhino run past them. It was covered in the doodles she knew very well. “Someone released them.”

“SHERIFF IT’S JINX! SHE’S PAINTED ALL OVER THE ZOO WALLS!” Someone shouts on comms with the sound of a small explosion in the background, confirming Vi’s suspicions. But, it made her heart ache. She had planned on taking Powder to the zoo for her birthday before she got taken. It was the one thing she wanted to do for years. Weirdly, she was relieved she had a chance to see the animals even if she released them.

“FOCUS ON CONTAINMENT! WE’LL WORRY ABOUT HER ONCE THE PEOPLE ARE SAFE!” Comes Caitlyn’s response. Vi knew she wouldn’t be focusing on that at all. She was more concerned about her little sister running around Piltover unsupervised. Her releasing the

“You heard the Sheriff.” Gina starts walking towards the rhino, “Let’s get these animals back home.”

“Have fun with that!” Vi says before whirling around and sprinting away. The animals were the least of her worries. She knew the Enforcers would get them back in their pens in time. Her focus should be on her sister. If there was anything that Vi taught her as a kid, was that a distraction should last longer than needed. The amount of time that it would take for the Enforcers to wrangle those animals gives her sister more than enough space to do something. The real question is what is she trying to do?

Vi makes her way to a building she knows has walls that are easy to climb. She needed to get above the streets fast. Her fingers dig into the wall and she scales the side, using her foot to hook the roof and pull herself up. She takes a moment to scan the area, locating where the zoo is, and finds blue indicators filling the air. Caitlyn thought it was a good idea to have smoke signals so Enforcers could find each other when running through the streets.

“Wait.” Vi blinked, turning back to one of the smoke signals. It was a lighter shade of blue than the ones the Enforcers use. Close enough that at a glance you wouldn’t be able to tell, but with so many up, Vi had a comparison.

“Vi, come in.” Caitlyn’s voice comes through their private channel, “...Vi?!” With a huff, she takes her radio off and tosses it down. She took off running, staying above the buildings so she didn’t lose sight of smoke. She knew her sister loved playing games, so this had to be one of them! Releasing the animals would be a distraction but she’d have fun watching them get chased around. They used to do that with some of the creatures in the Undercity. Mylo had managed to get himself chased by an angry poro. They had laughed themselves silly to the point Powder fell off the crate she had been sitting on. Ekko picked it up and scratched it to calm it down. Mylo refused to join them on their adventures for a few weeks after that. Vi’s lips twitched at the memory.

She stopped at the building above the dissolving smoke and looked down. The street was covered in doodles with arrows pointing in one direction along with the words “come find me!” She couldn’t help but be impressed. Her sister must be moving quickly through the streets to be able to release the animals blocks away and still have time to do this. The Enforcers would have found this before the animals were released, so it had to be done after. ‘Alright sis, i’ll bite.’ Vi thinks, grinning as she drops down onto the street.

Vi followed the direction the arrows were leading her which was interestingly toward the center of the city. The next set of arrows was not as obvious as the first few sets. They progressively got more and more hard to spot, at least, for a Piltie. Vi knew where to look. How to spot the design on the windows, in the bricks, and even on a store sign. It made Vi’s eyes sting, being able to see how much her sister really did grow up. She was exactly what Vi had known she’d become. Well, not the murder part, but everything else… Vi came to a stop at the city square and looked around. Something glimmering caught her attention on the white marble of the water fountain. Her brow furrowed as she walked closer and some words slowly came into focus. ‘Look… up?’ Vi’s gaze went up and she saw the Treasury building standing in front of her. Clear as a cloudless day, scrawled on the building was Jinx’s signature monkey.

A loud sound had Vi turning her head to the right where the Councilor’s Building was. Her eyes widened as a group of rockets streaked across the sky leaving colorful smoke in their wake. She didn’t have to squint to see the unsettling shark-like grins decorating them. Vi couldn’t do anything but watch as they headed for the Treasury. A gasp left her lips as they struck, the loud sound of the explosion filling the air and making the citizens scream in a panic. She covered her face as the wind blew toward her and looked to see debris on the ground. The citizens ran past her, some knocking into her in their haste to get away from the area. She stood firm on her feet as they did, not moving an inch from her position.

Vi felt like she couldn’t breathe. Like someone was squeezing her throat and trying to suffocate her. Her little sister did this. She was dizzy with her thoughts. She felt proud. So proud that she wanted to laugh and embrace Powder in a hug so tight it’d leave bruises. At the same time, she knew she was mourning her. Mourning the little girl her sister had been before their family was torn apart. This wasn’t Jinx’s doing. This was Powder. Her little sister who tried to craft her own bombs and wanted to help fight if the Undercity went to war. A war that… seemed all the more likely.

“Enforcer!” Someone ran up to her, “Please! There are people trapped inside the building! Please, you have to help!” They started tugging on her arm and it snapped Vi out of her staring.

“Don’t worry,” Vi shook them off, “I’m on it!” She ran for the building. Thankfully, only the top of the building was destroyed. She charged up the gauntlets, feeling them vibrate against her arms as they began to hum. She brought her arm up and lunged forward, slamming her fist into the rubble in front of the door. The concrete crumbled to pieces and Vi staggered forward with the momentum. She caught herself before she could fall and inspected the room. Not only were people stuck in the building, but some of them were stuck under the rubble. Vi took the initiative and got to lifting the beams off of the people. She was the only one who could do so without a group of people. The gauntlets helped a lot, but she wished to take them off and do it on her own. She missed the feeling of her muscles straining, feeling them contract and stretch as she lifted something she shouldn’t be able to. But, she couldn’t. Not in Piltover.

“Hey, Enforcer!” Powder’s voice echoes in the lobby, making Vi’s head jerk up while she’s lifting a part of the upper floor. Standing on top of the teller’s desk, her braids blowing in the breeze and her revolver in hand was Powder. She was dressed differently than the last time she saw her. Her pants were mismatched with one leg being drastically short and the other down to her ankles. There was even a proper holster for her weapons. She looked like a real fighter now.

“Do you know if this is needed?!” Powder - no, Jinx - holds up a bag showing off all the money she had inside of it. She had to separate this young woman from her sister or she wouldn’t be into the fight at all.

“If you put it back, that’ll be one less charge against you!” Vi let go of the wall and it fell to the ground with a crash. “I’m gonna have to book you for blowing up the Treasury, though!”

“If you can catch me!” Jinx cackles, pointing her gun at Vi. That makes Vi’s eyebrows jump up. ‘Is she going to shoot me?!’ Jinx fires and Vi dodges out of the way. There’s a ping and hiss shortly followed by smoke covering Vi’s vision, but that doesn’t stop her. She kicks off of a column next to her, catching sight of Jinx running up the stairs, and makes her way after her. Vi didn’t really know what her plan was. She couldn’t let her sister get away, but she also couldn’t catch her. If anyone saw her let her sister get away, that would cause trouble for her up here. Too many questions and not enough answers.

So, Vi chased her through the building, dodging the smokescreen bullets and keeping pace. She knew her sister was an amazing shot, but Vi was too good at fighting. Powder wasn’t the first person with a gun that she’d fought before. Vi had even given Caitlyn a hard time during one of their routine practices. The Enforcers that watched them didn’t stop talking about it for weeks. Someone had told Vi they were relieved she was helping them out and not against them.

“Why don’t we take this outside?!” Jinx shouts, running straight for a window. She slipped through and closed it behind her and Vi couldn’t help the grin on her face. She didn’t slow her momentum at all, bringing her arms up to cover her face as she crashed through the window. It shattered, raining glass down below as she landed on the roof of the building next to her and pitched into a roll. Jinx laughed as she saw Vi, continuing to run and fire bullets that seemed to be endless.

“You can’t run forever!” Vi yelled to her.

“Then let’s make a deal!” Jinx came to a halt on the roof across from Vi, “If you catch me, I’ll let you everything you want to know! If you can’t catch me, we can do this again another day!”

“As if I’d make a deal with you!” Vi uses the power from the gauntlets to launch herself faster than Jinx could process. Jinx yelps and narrowly dodges Vi’s punch, causing her to hit the roof instead. Part of the roof crumbles inward, but Vi’s too focused to care. She takes advantage of Jinx’s hesitation and continues to attack her. Her sister narrowly dodges each punch, courtesy of Vi slowing her fists down before she hits her. It makes Vi laugh, earning her a surprised look from Jinx. She was enjoying herself.

“What happened to being a slug monster?” Vi teased her. Jinx froze for a moment before she started laughing as well.

“You’ll have to catch me first, crab!” The grin she gave Vi was thrilling.

Vi didn’t know what had gotten into her. She chased Jinx all over the city, destroying things in her fake fight as she tried to give her sister a chance. She ended up getting a few solid punches on her that made Vi wince, but Jinx seemed to love it. It wasn’t until Caitlyn had found them that Jinx decided to pull out her hidden advantage. Vi had to jump off the roof when her sister fired a firework at her! Jinx had gotten away and Caitlyn had dragged Vi into an alley to scold her.

She had half-listened. Her adrenaline from the fight kept her in good spirits and she was still thinking about it. Caitlyn got so frustrated that she dismissed Vi for the rest of the day. She didn’t even bother to complain and made her way back to the mansion in high spirits. After all, she had to get changed and grab her sister’s gifts before heading into the Undercity. Being dismissed early gave her more than enough time to do that.

Vi had glanced into the mirror before getting in the shower. The colored powder from the bullets had turned her hair the same shade of purple that their mother had. It made her heart ache, but she didn’t dwell on those thoughts. A hot shower got the dust and colored powder out of her hair and helped to relax her muscles. It was nice to be able to shower with hot water versus the cold water in the Undercity. But, thinking about that only made her sad. Especially now that the isthmus was in the winter months. It normally didn’t start snowing until November, but they believe that Jinx blowing up the Councilor’s Building with a hextech rocket might have had something to do with it.

“Ms.Vi?” A knock sounds at the door making Vi hurry up and put on her shirt. She makes her way to the door and opens it to reveal the head maid.

“Hello, Mary.” Vi greets the maid. Mary gives Vi a kind smile. She always snuck Vi extra cookies with her dinner and turned a blind eye when she passed her in the halls after curfew.

“You have a visitor waiting for you in the receiving room.” Mary takes a step back, “Tobias asked me to bring you over.” Vi blinks and glances down at herself. Leather pants and a white t-shirt. ‘That’ll have to do for whatever big wig it is.’ She shrugs.

“Lead the way.” Vi nods. Mary guides her through the mansion to a room near the front door. It wasn’t a room she’d been in before since no one had visited for her specifically. She had seen the Kirammans go in and out of there consistently along with the maids when they were bringing tea for whichever guest arrived.

Mary knocks on the door and waits for Tobias to call her into the room. With a wink, Mary opens the door and steps aside so Vi can go in. Laughter is the first thing that greets her before she can see who’s in the room with Tobias. Her sister had the front of her hair up in space buns while the back fell free. Her bangs were clipped back like she did when they were younger, and she was wearing a plain t-shirt and pants like Vi. It had none of the playfulness she’d seen before. Jinx’s playfulness

“Powder?!” Vi gasps, seeing her little sister sitting on the couch with a cup of tea.

“Vi!” Powder grins, jumping up from her seat to engulf Vi in a hug. It takes Vi a moment before she’s hugging her sister back tightly.

“What are you doing here? I-I was going to come down and see you!” Vi was startled, but excited.

“I wanted to see where you were staying! Besides, I didn’t know when you were going to be done with work.” Powder bounces on her heels, “I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday alone.”

“Powder was telling me all about her birthday traditions you with.” Tobias chuckles, putting his cup down, “Why don’t you hang out here? I can have the kitchen staff make you a cake and have dinner here!”

“I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience.” Vi shakes her head, “Besides, the staff would be doing this last minute.”

“Nonsense!” Mary huffs, flicking Vi’s ear out of nowhere, “They will be more than happy to make something for you and your sister, Vi. You’re never an inconvenience to us.”

“Ah…” Vi smiles at the sincerity in Mary’s eyes, “Thank you. Why don’t we go to the kitchens and you can tell the staff what kind of cake you’d like?” She looks at her sister. Powder’s eyes light up and she nods enthusiastically. Powder grabs her hand and drags her through the hallways, rambling about what she’s doing in the Undercity to Mary and Tobias. Vi can’t help but feel a little hazy. This was Powder. Laughing happily, chatting away with people without a care in the world as long as her sister is by her side.

They spent the whole time in the kitchen while the staff made the cake to her sister’s liking. It was a blue velvet cake with a layer of cookie crunch covered in black and white frosting, sprinkles, and gold letters. The staff didn’t mind the extra work they had to go through to get it done. They were so happy that Vi and her sister were hanging out in the kitchens with them. They got to taste-test the batter and filling, and some of them made sandwiches for them to eat while they waited. Vi spent most of the time watching Powder be happy. It made her eyes sting as she watched her be so carefree once again.

Tobias had snuck out at some point, but more of the mansion’s staff had joined in on the fun. There was tea going around, cookies and biscuits popping out of nowhere as they held a little party of their own. They ended up cutting the cake as soon as it was done and Vi managed to smash her sister’s face in a slice. Powder ended up chasing her around the kitchen trying to do the same to her. The staff laughed at their antics, spending some time after the cake to wind down with a milkshake. Once they were done, they cleaned up the kitchen, boxed up the leftover cake for Powder and Mary took them back to Vi’s room.

“Why is this bef so sof?” Powder’s voice came out muffled as she lay face-down on Vi’s bed. Vi chuckled and sat down next to her after grabbing a box from behind the dresser. She reached out and brushed her hand over Powder’s head, getting her sister to turn and face her.

“I don’t know, but it was too soft for me. Mary had to make adjustments so I could sleep in it.” Vi’s eyes wandered over the luxury fabric. “If I’m honest, I still sleep on the couch.” She motioned to the couch on the other side of the room.

“What’s that?” Powder quickly sits up, eyeing the present in Vi’s hand.

“It’s for you… Happy Birthday, Pow.” Vi holds it out to her and Powder gingerly accepts it. She looks at Vi, silently asking for permission to open it and she nods. Powder rips into the wrapping paper, popping the box open to see what’s inside. Vi watches as her eyes widen, shining with unshed tears as she shakily reaches in to pull out what’s inside. It sparkled in the light, the golden hair clip glimmering like the lights of the Undercity. It was fashioned after a crow’s feather but the top was painted in various colors.

“Did you… Did you make this?” Powder’s questions, looking at Vi.

“Of course I did.” Vi gives a shaky smile, trying not to let any of her tears fall, “I figured you were too old to wear the ones I made you when we were kids.”

“So you don’t hate me after everything?”

“No! No, I could never hate you. I’ve missed you so much. I think about coming back to you every day, but I’ve been trying so hard to keep you safe.”

“Come home. You can keep me safe that way, too!”

“Pow, I’m so close. Please trust me on this.”

“I do. I just…” Powder bursts into tears, throwing herself into Vi’s arms, “I miss you!” Vi can’t help herself and starts crying, too. They hold each other as they cry, whispering “i miss you” to each other as if it’s the first time they’ve said it. This was the first time she’s seen her sister in months and it hurt her more than anything to know that she couldn’t go home yet.

“I promise you, Powder. I’ll be home soon. I’ve got to make sure you’re off their radar.”

“When you come home, can we go cause trouble together somewhere?”

“Sure thing.” Vi smiles. “Now, tell me everything.”

“About?”

“About what you’re really doing in the Undercity… Oh, and I shouldn’t say this but… I had fun today.” Powder grins at Vi’s words.

“I knew you would!”

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Greensleeves Chapter Seven: The Horror And The Wild

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Brief description of dead animal at the very end Wordcount: 4.1k

The party adjust to their newest member and set out on their journey to the goblin camp. They're interrupted by an old business partner of Xaph's

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Gale and Xaph return to their companions without further discussion. He shares what they have learnt from the goblin prisoner, about this Absolute. A god none of them have heard of. Xaph peers at the map and plots possible routes with Wyll and Shadowheart. Two black circles are on the parchment now: the goblin camp, and where Zorru had encountered the githyanki. One is much further west than the other. The goblin camp must be their priority. The githyanki can wait a few days. The tieflings can’t.

“Your kind prove compliant, Xaph. A useful trait.” Lae’zel tells Xaph as the group collect themselves and begin to move. The tone of her voice almost makes it sound like she’s trying to compliment rather than insult.

“I warned you, didn’t I?” Shadowheart butts in, “You ought to reconsider keeping her around, before she causes real trouble.”

“Let’s not start a fight,” Wyll reasons, “Not here.” He’s right. She shouldn’t start a fight within the group, not after accepting Lae’zel and bickering with Shadowheart. Besides, to bring violence inside the grove would certainly have them tossed out by the druids, and they might take that as an opportunity to evict the refugees too.

“We’re not compliant. We’re survivors. These people are running for their lives.” Xaph informs Lae’zell, refusing to break her stride and let the githyanki goad her into an argument. That’s far too easily done with Shadowheart already.

“Cockroaches are survivors. Yet I do not congratulate them.” Lae’zel points out. Xaph’s tail twitches, but she still doesn’t stop. Astarion and Gale note the movement, and the latter mumbles,

“Steady. Remember she’s acting out of fear, like the rest of us.” He’s right too. She can’t pick a fight with every being they come across who has something against tieflings, but it’s always somehow worse being the butt of the joke in front of a group of people who aren’t.

“The teeth-ling was clear. If there are githyanki west of here, that must be our objective. Purification cannot wait.”

“We are tieflings. With an f.”

“I am unfamiliar with the - well, I shall not say culture. Custom, perhaps.” Lae’zel says, eyes rolling behind Xaph’s back. The tail twitches again, more violently this time, but Xaph’s jaw is set.

“Nor am I familiar with yours.” Is all she says.

It is decided through vote that Xaph is least likely to get them lost. As a ranger, she has a better grip on maps and traversing rough ground than the elf who looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in a century and the self-proclaimed wizard of Waterdeep, and Shadowheart and Lae’zel both carry the prickly presence of lone wolves who are distinctly uncomfortable in a pack. Wyll is well-suited to keeping everyone on task, which Xaph thinks will work well to curb her habit of going off the beaten trail in pursuit of interesting tracks. When Shadowheart points out the impracticality of her armour for hiking, Lae’zel makes that noise between her teeth again, tchk. In loose formation, Wyll puts himself between the cleric and the githyanki. A fight between them seems inevitable, but hopefully the Blade of Frontiers can keep it verbal for the time being. It scratches a pleasant itch in Xaph’s brain, that from above they must look like an arrow. She, Astarion and Gale form the triangle of the point and Lae’zel, Wyll and Shadowheart the shaft.

She revels in being outside again. The sun is warm, but pleasantly so, and the wind moves enough to keep cool air circulating around them and prevent overexertion. The air carries only the occasional waft from the nautiloid, and is otherwise deliciously clear. No longer drowning in the stink of burning flesh, blood, and acrid smoke, she can dissect every delicate note of the grasses around her and the flowers they hold. When they pause so Wyll can shake a stone out of his boot, Xaph takes the opportunity to retie her hair so it’s all gathered up and she can feel the breeze on the back of her neck. Even the unevenness of the ground beneath her feet is a delight. It’s been a while since she’s travelled with others, and it takes her a while to correct her speed so Gale doesn’t lag behind, so Lae’zel doesn’t snap about them going too slow, so Wyll stops fretting about them burning through energy. Eventually, they settle into a rhythm and keep to it until the sun reaches its peak and several members of the party start flagging. Even those used to roughing it are struggling, weakened by the tadpole. They should endeavour to sweat no more than necessary to retain fluids.

Now several miles away from the grove, they’ve reached a bridge. Deciding to make a brief stop before crossing it, they find a good clump of trees that cast enough of a shadow to hold them all. Xaph slides down the trunk of a tree, lets her head fall back onto the bark, and reaches out blindly for her bow to unstring it and give it a break. Food, provided by Okta, is doled out and eaten in near silence. Lae’zel stays standing. Pacing, actually, questioning if there’s any real need to stop. No one answers her, too tired. Once they’ve eaten, Wyll and Shadowheart split from the group to investigate voices they can hear not far away. Gale tells the remainder of the group his Yawning Portal story with suitable dramatics, and Xaph resists the urge to correct his grip when he mimes holding a crossbow. Lae’zel shows no such restraint, but to look at Gale her words are no more than irritating flies, and his blasé attitude makes Astarion chuckle. It’s a neat little pocket where, for a moment, Xaph thinks this group might work. At least for the next few days. As long as none of them turns. Or dies. Or kills another member of the party. Alright, it’s a little complicated.

Wyll and Shadowheart bring disturbing news back to the shelter of the trees. A man has died nearby, leaving his siblings under the impression that the Wyll and Shadowheart were True Souls, beings chosen by this new god the Absolute as vessels of her word. Their brother had died after foolishly following an owlbear mother back to her nest, and after convincing the siblings not to avenge him they had run off into the woods. A tadpole had squeezed out of the dead man’s eye not long after. With more than mild concern at the third mention of this new god now coupled with a mind flayer worm, they end their break early and continue to move.

Their redoubled efforts do not last long. They don’t even get to cross the bridge. Halfway across, Xaph skids to a stop as bright red and gold sparks swirl in a vortex in front of her. She groans audibly as the sparks convalesce into the form of a man. He looks human, even if his skin carries a reddish undertone. Middle-aged. Not particularly remarkable.

“Don’t.” Xaph warns at the sound of multiple weapons being readied. She herself hikes her bow up her shoulder and waits.

“Xa-pha-ni-a,” he stretches each syllable far longer than necessary, until they’re transparent, “Well met, muzz.” Xaph’s companions have heard her use this word on the tiefling children when she wants their attention, when she demands their respect. He knows her name, this swirl of sparks that stinks of sulphur. Astarion can taste cherries in the air, unable to overwhelm the smell of the hells. Shadowheart can feel her hair prickling at the back of her neck at the untoward curl of his lip. Gale can judge the track of his eyes from Xaph’s boots to her hair before he appraises her friends. Wyll and Lae’zel know devils when they see them. Xaph closes her eyes as she breathes in through her nose and opens them as she heaves a world-weary sigh,

“Raphael,” worse, she knows him, this must-be-infernal, and she does not show him the respect he has ordered, “What. The everloving fuck are you doing here?”

“Mind your manners, little mephit. Speaking of, what manner of place is this that I find you in? The path to redemption?” his voice rumbles ever so slightly deeper than it should, “Or the road to damnation?” he leans forwards, into Xaph, and she leans back to maintain distance, “Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning. What would suit the occasion? The words to a lullaby, perhaps?” there’s whispering behind Xaph but she doesn’t listen closely enough to make out what her companions are saying. Raphael always did like delivering his riddles in song form, “The mouse smiled brightly: it outfoxed the cat! Then,” he drags a hand through the air, “Down came the claws, and that, love, was that. They know how to write them in Cormyr, don’t they?”

Lots of lullabies and faiytales come from the Cormyr area. Wine, too. He’s been listening. Watching. The air around Xaph and Raphael shifts as something red-hot teases the bones of her spine. Gale shuffles his feet, uneasy at the mention of Cormyr, under the same suspicions as Xaph. This devil had heard their late-night conversation. Her tears.

“What’s brought you down here with all us worms, Raphael? Hardly your scene.”

“Quite right,” his eyes rove over the party again, “Too many pests, and decidedly too middle-of-nowhere for my tastes. Come.” Raphael offers Xaph his hand and, to Wyll’s dismay, she takes it. The entire group is engulfed in the same red-gold sparks that had brought the devil to them, sparks that turn to flames that flare white without burning and are snuffed out in an instant.

***

They are no longer on the bridge. They stand in a grand dining room. Dining room, because there’s a behemoth of a table in the centre, round and positively overflowing with food. Every good cooking smell in the world comes from this table. There are huge roaring fireplaces, huge black statues, huge everything. They are ants here. 

“You’ve redecorated,” Xaph notes. “New portrait,” she flicks a hand towards a towering painting that hangs on the wall above the fireplace behind where Raphael now stands. Ten-foot tall canvas, easily, the frame itself adding another two feet around the perimeter. Xaph turns her back on the devil while her companions are still trying to process what had happened. It’s an illusion, Gale can tell that much, but such a strong one of the like he hasn’t seen in…well, in a while. Wyll’s eye darts nervously along the walls, looking desperately for the windows, for assurance they aren’t actually in the hells. “Liked the old one better.” She tosses the words over her shoulder as an aside to the devil. The devil. A devil is talking to them. A devil knows the tiefling. Maybe she isn’t as soft as Shadowheart had thought.

“The House of Hope,” the showmanship is for the benefit of the party rather than Xaph, who is nonchalant, surveying the table, “Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed. Lavishly,” He chews on that word for longer than necessary, making it more than it is, “Go on. Partake. Enjoy your supper.” Xaph picks up a loaf of bread. Tears it in half. Squeezes the halves into dough balls in her hands. Holds them up to her nose. Licks them. Listens to them.  She tosses another loaf of bread at Astarion and he catches it without a second thought. His eyes are everywhere, there’s just so much to take in, but he has enough wherewithal to catch it. 

“The food’s safe. Take what you can carry,” her words are light, but when she looks at her companions her eyes are dark and deadly serious. Her voice pushes into their skulls, Trust me. Please. Let me handle this. Astarion and Lae’zel begin to fill their packs as advised. Gale’s eyes are stuck on Xaph. He hadn’t considered that she too might have her own secrets. Wyll fidgets, entirely unable to stay still. His eye keeps going to the door, but it snaps back to Raphael as flames roar around him. A devil indeed. It’s confirmed, made official. He is showing them his true form. His skin fully red, his bone structure sharpened. Winged. Horned. A genuine product of the Hells, and one with power too.

“What’s better than a devil you don’t know?” Raphael asks the room at large.

“A devil you do.” Xaph replies.

“You’re stepping on my lines, love.”

“Maybe you need a new script.” Wyll is in utter shock. As are several other members of the party. Xaph is treating this fiend as though he’s just another human, another elf, another githyanki even. Her surety worries Gale, but it fascinates Shadowheart. “What do you want?”

“Some respect would be a suitable start. On your knees, mephit. I am not known for my patience.”

“Or for your sta-” This, apparently, is too far. Stale air rushes over the party as Raphael’s wings open. He almost seems to grow taller. It’s not clear if Xaph kneels of her own volition or if she’s forced. The stillness of her tail indicates the latter. An apology flies from her lips, then, “Don’t hurt them. Your business is with me.” Her voice has taken on a strained tone. Pained.

“That heart of yours bleeds as much as ever, then. No matter. You won’t have use of it for much longer.”

“I’ve been lower than this. Why now?” A dozen questions burn in the minds of her companions but not one of them dares to move. The extra height Raphael had gained recedes, and he steps forward so as to more effectively look down on the tiefling. Her hands are behind her back, as though bound.

“Don’t play hard to get, not when you’re in so deep over your tadpoled head. One skull, two tenants, and no solution in sight. I could fix it all,” the devil snaps his fingers and a flame leaps up between them, “like that.”

“He spits lies. The only way to cleanse-” Wyll clamps a hand over Lae’zel’s mouth before she gets them all wiped off the mortal plane. She bites him, but doesn’t say anything else once he lets her go. 

“And you know I’ll never agree to your terms.” She sounds as though she’s running out of breath.

“Oh, never say never, love. But very well,” with a wave of his hand, Xaph is released. The ranger falls onto her hands, whipped out from behind her back to break her fall, and she coughs like a cat trying to bring up a hairball, “Try to cure yourselves. Shop around. Beg, borrow, steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left. And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that is when you’ll come knocking on my door.” He laughs, and they can feel it rumble in the floor beneath their feet.

“I’ll rip out your tongue first.” Xaph tells him, still out of breath.

“Ah, yes. The tongue. Yet another piece of pleasurable anatomy you’ll soon have to do without. All those pretty little symptoms - sundering skin, dissolving guts - they haven’t started to manifest yet, have they? You’re a paragon of luck, muzz. But luck always runs out eventually. I’ll be there when it does.”

With a thud that rattles their knees, the party are thrown back to earth. They’re standing in the same fashion they had been in the House of Hope, still arranged around a table that isn’t there anymore. Xaph is on the ground, crumpled, still trying to clear her throat. Wyll reaches her first, on his knees in front of her and lifting her head to see her eyes.

“What in all the hells was that?” Shadowheart’s next, and her voice is sharp and accusatory, but she deliberately stands so that she’s not in the way of the light Wyll needs to look Xaph over.

“Raphael,” Xaph’s words rasp, but she sounds less congested, “Mephistopheles’ heir and a fustilarian shitfire,” the words she shouts into the dirt path devolve into Infernal.

“More importantly, darling, how in the hells do you know him?” Astarion asks, though he keeps his distance. He and Lae’zel, packs bulging with food that has proven not to be illusory, stay a few feet away from the rest of the party as Shadowheart takes Xaph’s pack and Wyll and Gale slot their shoulders under her arms to get her to her feet.

“You don’t have a deal with him, do you?” Wyll asks. The group begins to move across the bridge they’d almost forgotten was there, all of them wanting to put as much distance between themselves and Raphael as possible.

“No, gods, no,” Xaph assures him, having to stop to cough again and her face pinches in a wince, “He came to me about ten years ago, when I was as close to starving as I ever will be. He preys on the hopeless, offers them a way out in exchange for their soul. Gets quite offended if you refuse.” That can’t be it, Gale thinks, the story’s too short, but she doesn’t say anything more.

“You shouldn’t have provoked him.”

“It’s the quickest way to get him out of your hair,” Xaph tells him, “If you’re a mark, that is. Looks like I’m still a prospective client.”

“Just when I think I’ve got a grasp on our dilemma, a bloody devil turns up.” Shadowheart exclaims, throwing her hands in the air.

“Cambion.” Wyll and Xaph correct her together.

“He claims he can help. How true can that be?” Shadowheart asks, addressing Xaph specifically.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“He flaunts his paltry wings as if he wants to impress us,” Lae’zel sneers, “You saw the red dragons slaying his infernal kin above Hell’s fires, did you not?” These questions are for the group at large, though they turn out to be rhetorical, “Next to a dragon, a devil’s a gnat. When I am kith’rak, I will take my Queen Vlaakith his head as a trophy.”

“Kith’rak?” Gale repeats, his pronunciation very close to Lae’zel’s.

“Githyanki knights. The riders that chased the nautiloid. They are the commissars and enforcers of my Queen Vlaakith’s will.”

“Forget the kith’rak,” Astarion cuts in, his pronunciation not as clear as Gale’s, “There’s a devil after us. Cambion!” he corrects himself before Xaph and Wyll can, “This just gets better and better. Shop around he said. He seems sure we won’t find anything.”

“That’s his angle, to grind hope down to bone meal.” Xaph tells him.

“Maybe, but all that take your time, I’ll wait nonsense. He’s playing with us. He reminds me of someone I used to know. Someone that liked to play with people. Creatures like them don’t play games unless they know they can win.”

“We’re not his playthings, Astarion,” Wyll says, “We won’t be.”

“Besides, he can’t have a cure. Only the zaith’isk can remove the tadpole.” Lae’zel reminds them. She and Astarion descend into debate. Xaph turns her head to look at Gale, who’s hardly said anything. This close to him, still propped up by him and Wyll, she can see spidery lines of black that crawl out from the neck of his robes up to his eye. Curious.

“Rather flattering, to be invited to dine with a devil.” He says quietly when he sees Xaph is waiting for him to speak.

“For you, maybe. He’s got no patience for me anymore.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. He knows how far he can push.” She doesn’t want to go into it, how hands of hot air had pushed her to the floor and held her wrists, her tail. How motes of fire had burned beneath her skin. She’ll be left with the feeling of bugs creeping over her body for hours, until Raphael forgets or lets her go. Shadowheart presses a cooling, healing hand between her shoulder blades and she regains some strength in her legs, “But for the rest of you? That was roses and champagne.”

“He wants something from us. Badly…” Gale gets lost in his own thoughts and Xaph has to laugh at him.

“He wants our souls, Gale.” Wyll says.

“Let me play advocatus diaboli,” he borrows Wyll’s own phrase from the day before, “If there’s one quality all the denizens of the hells share, it’s ambition. A quality they share with many humans, come to think of it. He wants Xaph’s soul, yes, but why drag the rest of us tiddlers in with the catch of the day? Fact one,” he starts to count with the fingers of his free hand, “There’s something very strange and very powerful about our tadpoles. Fact two, a cambion offers to take it away. The infernal aren’t known to aid mortals out of simple kindness,” Wyll hums in agreement, encouraging Gale, “Whatever Raphael wants, we must be the key to getting it. Along with our tadpoles…”

***

They know they’re making proper progress when Shadowheart recognises a specific tree. A short detour brings them back to the place where she, Astarion, Gale and Xaph had made camp that first night. There’s a good few hours of light left, but Xaph is still wincing at odd intervals and they’re still weak from their time aboard the nautiloid, so Lae’zel’s protests are largely ignored when they decide to camp here again. Gale manages to talk her down, reminding her that no warrior can be at their best without rest, and that seems to calm her somewhat. The party, though larger than before, is as subdued as they had been that first night. The combination of hard travel and Raphael has tired them. Xaph fillets fish Lae’zel and Shadowheart had engaged in competition to spear from the nearby stream, and Gale peels potatoes Okta had given them. A look passes between the ranger and the wizard and they know they will not be able to have their discussion tonight. They have more than enough food to use foraging as an excuse between the tiefling’s donations and Raphael’s buffet. Astarion had suggested that the devil’s food might be poisoned, but Xaph had quickly quelled these concerns by shoving handfuls of the stuff in her mouth.

“Xaph?” Wyll’s voice rings out between the rocks. He’d gone exploring, and has apparently found something of interest. Xaph cleans the smell of fish off her hands and moves towards the sound of his voice, tailed by Astarion.

Wyll has found a boar. Full grown, stone dead. Xaph squats and runs a hand over the bristles of its stomach.

“The pig’s dead, my friends. Staring at it won’t bring it back.” Astarion tells them.

“I can’t figure out how it died,” Wyll says, ignoring Astarion and crouching beside Xaph, “He’s fairly young. Strong.”

“Must be five or six years old,” Xaph slides a hand under one of its front legs, “Not warm, but he’s still a little stiff. Can’t have been killed more than a day or so ago.”

“Can you eat it? Because otherwise, I don’t understand what the problem is.” Astarion says flippantly. Xaph reaches for the boar’s snout to see the length of its tusks, and that’s when she notices the puncture wounds. Small holes punched into the beast’s neck, less than a finger’s length apart. It’s the only wound on the boar’s body, as far as she can see. She twists to Astarion and holds out a hand,

“Knife?” he obliges, passing her a dagger, but he does ask,

“Shouldn’t you lug it back to camp before you start hacking away?”

“I want to see something.” Xaph tells him. She sets the point of the dagger in one of the puncture wounds and cuts.

“And? Is it dead enough for you?”

“It’s been completely drained of blood.” Xaph states, and this effectively shuts Astarion up. Wyll probes the incision Xaph has made, investigating further. He looks at her, the question in his eye forming on his lips in a whisper,

“A vampire?” he asks. Xaph nods. “So close to where you’d slept? Are we safe here?”

“We’ll be fine with the night watch, but we should keep a specific eye out.”

“So you can kill it, I suppose.” Astarion muses. Xaph stands and turns to him, and he recognises the look in her eye. Determined.

“No.”

“No?”

“They must be starving, to drain a boar of this size and still not be strong enough to dispose of it,” she glances at Wyll to confirm he feels the same and finds no resistance from him, so she locks eyes with Astarion again. His red eyes glow in the night, as her green ones do. They’re beginning to take on that nocturnal sheen as the sun sets. He’s watching her. Waiting. “And hunger makes beasts of us all.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Demogorgon Dinner

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

genre: follows show plot lines, will diverge (come on, we know at this point)

WC: 8.3K

warnings: cursing, steve’s terrible girl advice, possibly getting eaten by monsters, jonathan being a bad older brother this chapter. that is it!

summary: Demodogs are now a thing. Also someone lives and someone dies.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

series masterlist

thank you to @alecmores for triple checking my work💕

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The three of you have been walking down the old train tracks for over two hours now, throwing chunks of meat onto the ground and listening to the woods. You walked in front of the boys since Steve said, and you quote, “I want to keep an eye on you and the kid,” and he was very insistent on the matter.

So you’ve been zoning out and mindlessly throwing meat, none of you starting a conversation. Not until an hour and a half in and Steve asks Dustin a question, “So, how did you find this thing?”

“Demogorgon,” you added.

“It might be a baby Demogorgon,” Dustin argued.

“Whatever, Demogorgon, baby gorgon, who cares. How did you find one and why did you keep it?”

The crunching of the autumn leaves beneath everyone’s feet filled the silent void as you and Steve waited for Dustin to give his answer. You can tell he was hesitating in his reply.

“I found it in my trash when I came home on Halloween. And I kept it…because of a girl,” he rushed the last bit out.

You had to stop in your tracks and turn around at the boy on trial. He halted in his steps when he was close to running into you. A pinch of his brows along with the confused look gracing his face showed he didn’t know why you stopped walking.

“So you’re telling me that you kept a dangerous creature because you thought a girl might be impressed?” You didn’t mean to hold anger in your tone.

Dustin shrunk into himself a bit, “ye-yeah,” he replied in a stutter.

“Dustin, two things. One, you have already been told to not take home wild animals, and two why didn’t you tell anyone, like Hopper for example.”

“To your questions, one: I did tell the party and Max.”

“Who’s Max?” Steve butted in. You also wanted to know, but that wasn’t important right now.

“And two,” he raised his voice, “I didn’t realize what he was at the time, not until he got bigger, and oh yeah! Ate my cat!”

“All right, so, let me get this straight.” Steve’s voice stopped your heated conversation, “you kept something you knew was probably dangerous to impress a girl who…who you just met?”

“All right, that’s grossly oversimplifying things.”

You separated yourself from the close distance formed between you and Dustin. The three of you went back to throwing meat and walking, wanting to continue this topic, but needing to get your task done by sunset. Then you remembered Dustin mentioning a girl named Max, and immediately thought of mad max at the arcade.

“Is Max the girl you just met? Also, is she mad max from the arcade?” “What’s a mad max?” “Someone at the arcade who beat all of Dustin’s high scores.”

Dustin huffed, “yes, Max is mad max.”

“Ah, so you like a girl who’s better at games,” you joked.

Before Dustin could answer Steve asked your earlier question, “Why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?”

“An interdimensional slug? Because it’s awesome.”

“It’s not Dustin,” you argued.

“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t, I…I just…” Steve sighed, “I don’t know. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard.”

You took a glance over your shoulder and smiled at the sight before you, Dustin and Steve standing beside each other. Steve trying to help Dustin with his girl problems, it’s like they were suddenly friends.

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?” Dustin muttered.

‘God, you wanted to run your fingers through those strands one day’

“It’s not about the hair, man.”

“Oh, then do tell us the actual reason you score girls, Harrington,” you teased.

“The key, Byers, with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?” Dustin was confused, you were too.

“Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts.”

You had to stop this before Dustin got the wrong idea, “oh, so ignoring girls is your advice?”

“That’s not- no not ignoring just not caring.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, then what?”

“You just wait until, uh….until you feel it.”

You were seriously contemplating throwing meat at Steve’s face right now.

“Feel what?” Dustin inquired.

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh…electricity, you know?”

“Steve, what the hell are you trying to implant into Dustin?”

“What, I’m just trying-”

“So, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere-” Dustin was using science as his guide.

Steve stopped him, “no, no, no, no, no. Like a… Like a sexual electricity. You feel that and then make your move.”

You stopped walking at this point, completely flabbergasted by what Steve was ‘teaching’ Dustin, “Steve, you can’t tell a thirteen-year-old about ‘sexual electricity’.”

“So, that’s when you kiss her?”

You threw your hands at Dustin after his question, “My point proven. He’s gonna do something stupid because of your terrible advice.” You turned to Dustin as he was quiet during your rant, “Dustin, don’t ignore girls.” “I didn’t say-” you cut Steve off with a hand to his face.

“Don’t ignore or act like you don’t care. Girls don’t like that. Show genuine interest in her, in things she likes. Try and make her feel like she’s the only girl in the world.”

“Okay, sure, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a…I don’t know, like a lion.” Steve was going back to his way of advice to Dustin, it just made you roll your eyes and went back to walking and throwing meat. “But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a…like a ninja.”

“What type is Nancy?”

Your blood ran cold. Wishing you could run further down the tracks away from the boys, or regret leaving your cassette player at home, you could be listening to ABBA right now! But, no. You were stuck listening to the boy you like talk about his girl- sorry, ex-girlfriend, to give Dustin terrible dating advice.

“Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.”

The twist to the knife was hard. Like the hand was taunting you, playing sick games so when it unexpectedly twisted and dug deeper, it would steal the breath from your lungs. 

You pretend to not hear their whispers, you didn’t want to talk anyway. So you just threw cubes of meat beside you and zoned out, trying to think of a happy memory or remember how one of the million songs you love started.

“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

“But this girl’s special, too, you know. It’s just, like, something about her. Kinda like (Y/n).”

Your ears perked at your name, but you showed no sign that you caught it. You wished that Steve said something similar to how he described Nancy, but he didn’t.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey.”

“What?”

A look over your shoulder showed they stopped walking and were just facing each other now. You walked a bit further, close enough where you could faintly hear their voices still, but enough space for you.

“You’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?” “What, (Y/n), ha, no,” you blushed at the nervous tone lacing Dustin’s words.

“What, no doofus, this new girl…Max.”

“Oh, uh, no. No,” he still seemed hesitant in his words.

“Okay, good. Don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit.”

You could hear the tiny infliction of hurt, how Steve is quietly telling you and Dustin that he fell deeply in love with Nancy, and all he got back in return, instead of an I love you, was his heart broken by her silence and drunken words.

You turned to look at the duo, Dustin with his head down and Steve who was looking at different points of contact. He would be looking at the ground or he would tilt his head to sneak a glance at Dustin’s quiet face, or he would end up making eye contact with you as you waited for them to catch up to you.

You saw him lick his lips and seemed hesitant in saying something, but spoke anyway, “Fabergé.”

“What?” Dustin asked for the two of you.

Steve pointed a gloved hand at his hair, “It’s Fabergé Organics,” an amused smile appeared upon your lips.

“Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair’s damp…it’s not wet, okay? When it’s damp…”

“Damp.”

Bemused by the new topic and Steve now being serious about his hair products and routine, along with Dustin listening to his instructions, you let the earlier conversations slip from your mind.

“You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray.”

You had to hide the snort that left your nose, “Farrah Fawcett spray?” Dustin’s voice filled with amusement.

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?” Steve was pointing a finger at him while he was holding meat.

“What about (Y/n)? She’s also here and probably heard this whole conversation.”

You stayed forward, not wanting to be involved.

“I know (Y/n) can keep secrets. So, do you understand? You blab and you’re dead.”

“Fine, okay. I won’t tell.”

And you heard their feet moving again, pieces of meat falling onto the tracks and dead leaves.

“Farrah Fawcett, really?” You had to ask.

Steve shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, she’s hot.”

“Yeah,” Dustin replied.

You turned back around and had to give it to Steve.

‘Yeah, she’s hot’

…

It was now probably five in the afternoon when your trio arrived at the abandoned junkyard. Steve pulled his black ray bans from his backpack, sliding them on to protect his eyes, and then, suddenly, a second pair came into your field of vision. You looked at Steve with a confused brow and he waved them.

“I had an extra pair in the glove compartment.”

A silent thank you passed when you took the glasses and slid them onto your nose bridge. You turned to Steve, a smile adorning his lips. “They look good.”

“I’ll try not to steal them.”

“Nah, you can have them.”

It’s stupid how your heart thumps during this simple conversation about ray bans.

“If you two can pay attention,” Dustin’s voice interrupted. You can tell Steve rolled his eyes under the dark lenses.

“This is a good spot, Dustin,” you clapped his shoulder in excitement.

“Yeah, this is pretty good. This will do just fine,” Steve agreed as he walked off.

You could see the wide grin on Dustin’s face when Steve called out, “Good call dude.”

“Aw, does someone like having an older male friend in their life?” You poked a finger into Dustin’s sides.

He squirmed away from you and swatted your hand away, “Stop being weird,” and he followed after Steve.

A giggle escaped your lips and you just shook your head at Dustin’s display. Seeing Steve and Dustin interacting made you happy, but it was like a bucket of cold water was splashed over your head Carrie style. You don’t know where Will or Jonathan are at this moment, they could be at home now worrying about you, or they could still be out there not thinking about how scared and anxious they are making you. You wished you had a phone or something, but Dustin has his…

“Dustin!” You shouted.

Their two heads shot up when you called for Dustin, your figure running down the slope with the bucket of meat in one hand and the wind brushing the loose strands of hair off your face. Steve stood up from the ground where he and Dustin threw the rest of their meat, his hands coming out to brace your incoming speed.

“Woah, what’s the sudden rush?”

You ignored him, only pushing the bucket into his chest, “Dustin, you have your walkie, right?”

He points at the antenna sticking above his head, “Duh, you think I’m wearing this as a statement?”

You backhanded his shoulder, “Dude, shut up. I need to borrow it.”

“Why?” “ ‘Cause no one was home when we left-” “Wait, Steve spent the night?” a teasing glint to his voice and eyes.

Now Steve smacked him upside the head, “Shut up, dingus.”

“Anyway! There wasn’t anyone home this morning and I wanted to check in, maybe Jonathan got back after we left.”

“Dude, give her the damn walkie.” “Alright! Geez.”

He unplugged the antenna and headset and handed it over with a huff. You didn’t need to tune it.

“Will? Mom? Anyone home?” There was silence on the other side.

You stepped away from the boys wanting a bit of privacy in case those annoying tears appeared. 

“Jonathan? Jonathan, are you home? Anyone, please just answer.”

Again no one spoke and just when you were about to walk back to Dustin it crackled to life, “(Y/n). It’s Jonathan.”

A sigh of relief passed, and you pressed the walkie into your chest as a silent thank you to whomever.

“Oh, thank god. Jonathan, where the hell have you been?”

“I’ll explain later. Where’s mom and Will?”

“They’re not there?” “No, only Bob’s car when we pulled in.”

“Who’s ‘we’, Jonathan,” you noted.

It went dead for almost a minute, you thought the battery suddenly died out on you.

“Uh, it’s me and…Nancy.”

A hand came up to your forehead and rubbed at your temples. While you were worried about Will and Hopper for the past two days, the reason Jonathan left so earlier on Friday was because of Nancy. She had Steve whipped around her finger and already Jonathan is being threaded. You’re not angry at either of them, just really annoyed at this moment.

“Okay, well since you’ve been gone, Will had an episode. So, if he and mom aren’t home you might want to check the lab.”

“Okay, and where are you?” “None of your business.” “(Y/n), come on.”

“I’ll be home late, over and out.” And with that, you turned the walkie off.

You stomped over to Steve and Dustin, your face probably giving off how you felt after the conversation because you noticed the look exchanged between the two, “You okay?” Steve questioned.

“Never better,” a grit to your words.

Steve reached out a hand and before it could touch your arm or wherever it was gonna land, a far-off voice called out.

“I said medium-well!”

Everyone wiped their heads in search of the voice. You were greeted by the sight of Lucas and a new girl beside him. Lucas sent a wave and you happily threw one back in greeting and the duo walked over to your group.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked Dustin.

Dustin not giving a reply the both of you looked at him, and the look on his face broke a piece of your heart. You knew that look on his face, knew the emotions running through his mind and heart. It’s something you saw in the mirror every day, it’s the hurt you felt every time you saw Steve and Nancy together, the two of them happy and infatuated with each other. It’s something you saw in Jonathan’s eyes and sometimes Will’s. It was the look of your heart breaking slowly.

“Okay, right now we need to set up a base inside that bus. So, we need to forfeit it to withstand damage,” and Steve clapped his hands together.

He walked off and pulled the yellow gloves off, pulled the redhead with him, and pointed out stuff, probably giving her instructions. Dustin grabbed Lucas by the arm and dragged him off behind a red car. Throwing off the gloves and dropping them near a pile of trash you walked to Steve and asked what you should do.

“Uh, try to find big pieces of sheet metal to cover the bus.”

A nod of your head and you were off looking for the needed supplies. Walking around the junkyard you found multiple things of sheet metal and dragged them back to the bus. You even found an ax that was in good condition so you left it by the bus as a reminder to grab it.

You and the redhead met at the bus, each with a new sheet of metal.

“I’m (Y/n), Byers. You might have met my little brother, Will.”

“Yeah, we’ve met. I’m Max, Mayfield.”

“Uh, would you happen to be related to Billy Hargrove?” you were just a bit curious since you remember her leaving his car a few days ago.

“He’s- he’s my stepbrother,” she seemed to hate this fact.

A thudding sound resonated throughout the trash, you looked up and saw Steve standing at the trunk of the red car, both Lucas and Dustin standing to look at him. He threw an arm out and pointed in your general direction, probably telling the boys off for not helping. You looked at Max and she was also paying attention before walking off.

And so with an hour and a half left of sunlight, the five of you went to work on setting everything up and ready for the coming danger to come tonight.

…

Once the bus was set up, the meat bait and a line of gasoline ready to go, everyone huddled into the ruined bus. It went Lucas, Max, Dustin, you and then Steve coming behind and shutting the door shut.

Everyone went to different spots inside, you sat near the back and leaned against the side of the bus with your legs stretched in front of you, Max sat behind the ladder and stared at everyone, Steve sat in the middle and flicked the lighter on and off. Dustin was pacing a bit and Lucas went to the roof to stake out the darkened junkyard.

“So, you really fought one of these things before? Both of you?”

You understand where Max is coming from. Moving to a new town and these kids try telling you that a small town like Hawkins is the complete opposite of your ideal image, that an evil lab held experiments and opened a gate to an Upside Down version of your town where interdimensional monsters run around. And that a kid didn’t go missing in the woods, he was on the run for a week trying to stay alive and make it home. You wouldn’t believe them either if you hadn’t experienced it firsthand.

“Yeah, but it was a big Demogorgon, and it was in my house.”

She looked perplexed at the casual air you gave that statement. All Steve did was nod his head and flicked the lighter closed.

“And you’re, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“Shit. Don’t be an idiot. Okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

“Dustin, dude.” You weren’t sure what this sudden attitude towards Max was, but it was pissing you off.

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.” You and Max both shared similar looks of disbelief and shock at this attitude. Max just scoffed at him and got up from her seat, “Geesh. Someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” And she headed up the ladder to join Lucas.

Steve let out a breathy laugh at the display, “That’s good. Just show her you don’t care.”

“Steve, this is why you shouldn’t give that crappy advice. It just pissed her off.”

Dustin stopped his pacing, “I don’t,” he said to Steve.

Steve turned to look at Dustin, “Why are you winking, Steve? Stop.”

“Steve, did you really pull all those girls?” You taunted.

He whipped his head so fast at the question, “Are you insinuating I didn’t?”

“Wow, big word,” a snarky Dustin comment.

You ignored him, “I’m just saying, how were you able to get girls if you ignored them, pretended you didn’t care about them or their interest? It’s a shitty move.” Speaking from a similar experience.

The early days of high school where boys would talk to you at your locker, a charming smile tricking you into their little games being played behind your back. Getting ready for a date someone wanted to take you on, and when you got to wherever they took you, whether it be Lovers Lake, Skull Rock for a ‘picnic’, or a drive-in, they always wanted the same thing. To win a prize and humiliate you. They never got the prize, but you always got humiliated.

“Look I- I didn’t mean for it to sound…”

“Dude you’re just digging yourself into a grave,” Dustin muttered.

You pulled yourself deeper into the bus, trying to curl yourself into a ball at this moment, “Girls want to feel loved, we want to feel appreciated by that special person. Someone who wholeheartedly, and genuinely shows their devoted interest in you. We don’t want to feel like a trophy to be won and then thrown away, life already makes us feel that way,” you whispered in the last part.

“(Y/n)-” Steve’s voice was cut off by the sound of growling from outside.

You jumped to look out the window, Dustin and Steve copying. All you could see was a thick fog covering the junkyard floor.

“You see him?” Dustin asked.

“No,” both you and Steve answered.

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Dustin screamed into the roof.

Lucas told him to hold on and it was quiet for the next minute. The growling coming back telling you it was out there, but just hiding.

“I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock! Ten o’clock!” Lucas yells.

You tried looking in the general direction of ten o’clock, but all you saw was fog and trashed cars. You should probably look into glasses soon.

“I don’t-”

“There,” Steve cut you off.

You left your area of the bus and joined the boys, leaning your right side into Steve’s to try and look for Dart. You could barely make out his shadowed figure.

“What’s he doing?” Dustin inquired.

“I don’t know,” Steve stated. “He’s not taking the bait. Why is he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow?” You nervously joke.

Steve backed away from the window, you turned your attention away from Dart and focused on Steve who seemed to be thinking through a stupid plan. Dustin turned around as well, Steve looking between the both of you before turning away and towards the front of the bus.

“Steve? Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin urged.

“Steve-”

He turned around and threw the lighter at you, “Just get ready.”

“What? Steve, no, please. Please don’t-” you pleaded with him.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” And he left the bus.

You and Dustin rushed back to the windows of the bus, watching as Steve slowly walked further into the lion’s den with only a nail-studded bat as protection. He swung the bat low, parting the fog layer. His back was hunched over a bit and his head was whipping all around, trying to keep a close eye on any movement. As he got further in he raised the bat at shoulder level, his steps still slow, waiting for any action. He let out a low whistle to alert Dart of his presence since he wasn’t taking the meat anymore.

“What’s he doing?” Max questioned as she came down the ladder.

“Expanding the menu.” You smacked Dustin’s shoulder, “That’s not funny.” Now the three of you watched as he stood right in front of the meat pile, his feet constantly moving. The bat held steady in front of him, keeping his defense up.

“He’s insane.”

“He’s awesome.” “No, he’s insane and stupid for going alone,” so you smacked the lighter into Dustin’s chest and grabbed your new ax.

“Seriously?” “Just be ready,” you mirrored Steve’s words.

As you exited the bus you kept an eye out, not knowing if Dart was the only one here tonight. And your question was answered when Lucas shouted, “Steve, watch out! Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”

And sure enough, there were not one, but two new Demogorgons stalking closer to Steve. You walked a bit closer to be near Steve, not wanting him to be their dinner.

“Steve! Abort! Abort!” Dustin cried from the open bus. 

“Steve!” You yelled.

He turned around at you and Dustin shouting for him then turned back to Dart just as he rushed forward along with one of the others. He rolled out of the way in time, falling onto the hood of a nearby car and landing on his feet, able to hit one of the creatures.

“Steve, run!” “Steve, hurry!” They continued to shout.

You swung at one of the three animals that were close to you, trying to keep a distance from the both of you as you ran back to the bus. Steve grabbed your hand as he ran by and pulled you with him, the two of you having to outrun the four-legged animals. Steve pushed you into the open doors first then came in behind and Dustin shut the doors, a Demogorgon running into it.

“Shit!” Lucas and Dustin wailed.

“Are they rabid or something?”

Steve pulled some metal from the front window to reinforce the door.

“They can’t get in! They can’t!” “You think we don’t know that Lucas!” You shrieked.

Now all of them were throwing themselves against the bus, shaking it around like an earthquake. You all screamed in terror, Steve keeping his feet against the metal on the door. You gripped Steve’s arm then suddenly one of them got through the door. You reached for your ax as Steve started to hammer at it with his bat, the kids rushing to the back. Dustin began to call for backup again, “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God! Anyone!”

“I don’t think God’s gonna help us!” You babbled.

“We’re at the old junkyard, and we are going to die!”

Steve kept batting at the door, their claws seeping into the cracks. They left a dent in the back from their impact. You looked up at the roof when you started hearing the metal bending from the weight. Max was standing right under an opening and started to scream. You threw her out of the way and saw it, a Demogorgon looking into the bus. You held your ax up, ready to defend the kids and yourself, but you didn’t need to. Because suddenly it perked its head up and then ran off.

“What just happened?” Max whispered.

No one had the energy to answer that question. The five of you are just waiting to see if they’ll come back. When it sounded quiet, not a single growl was heard. You all made your way outside the bus. Steve stepped out first, a loud banging sound caught you off guard, “jeez.” He had his bat at the ready and you held the ax low, but neither of you saw anything out there.

“Did Steve scare ‘em off?” Dustin questioned. “No, no way.” He turned to the four of you, “they’re going somewhere.”

It clicked, “the lab.” A tremble to your voice.

…

“You’re positive that was Dart?” “Yes. He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“He was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.”

Dustin and Lucas’ argument lasted for five minutes now, while the five of you walked on the tracks in the direction of the lab.

“Malted?” Steve asked, mispronouncing the word.

“No, molted. He shed his old skin to make room for growth,” you explained.

The sun’s warmth was replaced with the cool night air, along with the goosebump feeling on your arms that something could be watching you in the thick tree line. The two boys walked ahead of everyone, whispering sometimes or loudly voicing their opinion. Steve walked in the middle, his eyes moving between the boys to look at the woods or taking a glance over his shoulder to make sure you and Max were keeping up. Max seemed a bit quieter after the demodog incident earlier, which you fully understand. She kept thinking the four of you were crazy or pulling a bad prank on her, she kept insisting it was just a large animal. But once she saw it directly in front of her, ready to attack and eat her, you knew she came to the full realization.

So, when you all packed up and headed off to the lab, you stayed behind to keep her company.

“Are you… are you okay?” you knew it was a stupid question, but you felt the need to ask.

Her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her green Adidas zip-up, hair tucked behind her ears, but falling over her shoulders. She would scuff her sneakers into the dirt and leaves, her shoulders hunched close to her ears. She was very quiet, but you wanted to know what she was thinking, so you would give her time to answer.

“I… You said you fought one before?”

“Uh, yeah. Last year, it kinda destroyed my house a bit. But there was only one at the time and it was full grown. Steve was there too.”

You saw her take a look in the boys' direction, and you do the same. You saw Lucas and Dustin walking side by side and Steve was walking close behind, his head bent forward.

“He was- Steve was courageous tonight and even the first time. Saved my older brother from getting killed,” you added for Max.

She was quiet again, and you waited a bit to see if she would have something to say. When she did, she seemed hesitant in her words.

“How are you- how are you so…calm about this? You almost got attacked, we all almost got hurt. Those things… they wanted to kill us.”

You processed your thoughts for a moment, “I- I think it’s my coping mechanism. I have past trauma about something else, and it’s either I make jokes out of it or I…I choose to be in denial. And I think over the last year… I slowly came to terms with certain things. I still hate all this, I wish it would go away for good, but at least I have people I can go to. Plus I have to protect you kids, always doing stupid shit on your own.” You nudged her shoulder for the last part, a smile gracing her once solemn face.

The two of you went back to walking in silence, well silence of the conversation. The boys and nature-filled in the empty void. Your hands kept a bit of warmth in the back pockets of your jeans, your feet getting colder by the minute.

You thought back on your conversation between you and Jonathan earlier, you regret getting upset at him. He deserves to do his own thing, he had to take care of everyone else and last year was no exception. You just wished he told you, he knows you don’t like being thrown to the wolves, being left to hold the fort without any backup. But that’s something you can’t dwell on any longer, right now you just need to get to the lab and find Will.

“Wait, a cat?”

Suddenly the boys all stopped in their tracks, Steve ahead of everyone with Lucas facing Dustin. You and Max halted to a stop before running into them. Lucas looked confused by whatever was said before, you weren’t paying close attention to their conversations.

“Dart ate a cat?” Oh, Steve might have said something.

“No, what? No,” Dustin was doing a bad job of saving face.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews.” 

You and Max were both confused, “Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max questioned. “It’s Dustin’s cat,” Steve confirmed.

You turned to Dustin just as he turned to look at Steve, “Your cat’s name was Mews?” “Steve!” Dustin shouted at his friend.

Lucas shoved at Dustin’s shoulder in anger, “I knew it! You kept him!”

“No!” Dustin shouted.

“No?”

“No, I…No, I…” you, Steve, and Max were watching the two boys, Dustin failing to think of something.

He finally gave up, “He missed me. He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit!” Lucas blurted, and you saw Steve barely flinch at the word.

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?” “Guys, who cares?” Max voiced, “we have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas yelled to Max then faced Dustin, “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” Now Dustin was yelling at Lucas.

“What?”

You stole a glance at Steve, he was exasperated by this whole conversation, and honestly, you were getting there as well. Then suddenly Dustin shined his flashlight directly into Max’s face.

“Dude,” you threw a hand out to drop the light.

“You told a stranger the truth!”

She scoffed at his remark, “a stranger?”

“You wanted to tell her, too!” Lucas commented.

“Yeah, but I didn’t, Lucas, okay? I didn’t tell her!”

Then suddenly you could hear screeching in the distance, Steve hearing as well with his head following in your direction. The kid's argument is drowned out by the loud rushing of blood passing your eardrums, your heart beating quicker. Steve walked forward a bit, his light shining into the blackout forest. You followed a step behind, a light tremble coming into your hands making the light shake. The sudden weight on your wrist distracted you from the faint screeching and instead focused on the feel and warmth of Steve’s hand circling your wrist.

“Guys?” Steve tried to call the kids.

They kept yelling at each other, to focus on their conversation. You kept your eyes forward while Steve twisted to face them and yelled out for them again, this time louder, “Guys!”

Their talking stopped and another wave of screeching could be heard. Your breathing was picking up, worried for your family if they were inside the lab right now. You started to flick at your nails with the hand that was held in Steve’s grasp.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet, only for you.

You didn’t turn your head, wanting to keep an eye on the forest, scared of any tricks it could play when you were caught off guard. Your fingers stopped flicking at your nails when Steve’s hand slid from your wrist, slotting his fingers between yours. Your breath caught in your throat, and the pressure of a squeeze from him released it. You wanted to look at him but didn’t dare.

He began walking forward, further into the woods, his grasp pulling you behind him. Then the kids followed, but you could hear Max protesting. The four of you, the horror movie protagonist that walks toward the suspicious noise, you’ll either die or make it to the final act.

…

Your group trekked through the woods, your feet slipping in the wet spots at times, but Steve’s hold on your hand saved you from eating dirt. He held your hand the whole time, you could feel the kids' eyes watching, but you ignored them. You wanted to savor this moment for however long it was gonna last. When the five of you reached a clearing that looked over most of Hawkins, Steve slipped his hand free, you already missed the warmth and comfort.

Everything was completely dark and a little fog covered most of your view. Only the distant yellow color of lights allowed you to see where a building was located.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mentioned.

“It’s dark, Dustin, obviously you can’t see him,” you mouthed.

Lucas pulled his binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the area.

“Can you see the lab?” You asked him.

It took a moment, but then he answered, “Yeah, and it looks to be completely dark.” “Dark? What- What do you mean dark?”

“I mean, there isn’t a single light on. It might be a blackout.”

You spared Steve a look, “I don’t like that, they could be on lockdown because of something.” You wrung your hands together. “(Y/n), everything is fine,” Steve was trying to comfort you, “I’m sure it’s nothing. We’ll head that way and check it out, okay?”

You glance in the general area where the lab was located then back to your group, Max looking at you and Steve while Dustin and Lucas look at each other and then to you. So, you nodded your head and started to walk off back into the woods, the other four following just behind you.

…

“(Y/n)!” His voice called out, you ignored it.

“(Y/n)!” His voice was closer this time, but you still ignored him and continued forward.

‘You needed to get to the lab.’ ‘You had to make sure your family was safe.’ ‘If Hopper, Bob, and Mike were in there as well, you needed to make sure they came out alive.’ ‘You can’t lose anyone, you can’t lose anyone, you can’t-’

“(Y/n),” his hand grasped your wrist again and brought you to a halt.

Steve pulled you into his bubble, the arm he held was close to his chest and in between your two bodies. The tip of your shoes brushed against his in the breath of space separating the two of you. You had tilted your head up just a bit to look at Steve, his taller figure looming over you. His eyes were peering into yours, it felt invasive as if he was trying to search your very mind, but also it was comforting to know he cared enough to worry about you in this instance.

“I know you’re worried about Will and anyone else at the lab, but we need to be careful,” he sighed, “I gotta keep you and the three morons safe.”

You held a fixed gaze on him, noting the pained look slapped across his face. His eyes watching you, zooming over your face, almost in an intimate way. His lips parted and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Steve loosened the hold on your wrist and dropped it free. He used that hand to push it through his hair, a nervous gesture you’ve picked up.

“I- I can’t have another person get killed because of my stupidity,” his hand slapped his outer thigh.

Your heart crushed at the crack in his words. He thought Barb died because of him.

“Steve…Barb didn’t die because of you.”

“Yeah, well… if I didn’t take Nancy up to my room, maybe she would have left with Barb. I- I just…”

You stopped him, a hand automatically caressing his cheek. You just crossed one of your boundaries, but at this moment you didn’t care. Steve needed to know.

“Steve, none of this is your fault, it’s not even Nancy’s fault either. We didn’t know about the Demogorgon yet, how would you have known something this evil was lurking in your backyard?”

He tried to look away from you, you threw another hand and now Steve’s face was being gently held between your two. You need to make sure he gets your message.

“Steve, I want you to listen closely,” his eyes were pleading with your own, “you are not responsible for Barbara’s death, no matter what anyone says, you didn’t kill her. The Demogorgon killed her. And sadly we weren’t able to save her in time.”

“But if I-“

“No, Steve. Just stop, okay, just stop for a moment.”

You slid your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulder and finally, they settled on his upper arms.

“Steve Harrington, you may have been a douchebag that only wanted to get into Nancy’s-“

He scoffed, “Byers.”

“But! But, you are not that type of person anymore. You were helping Dustin with his little problem before I came along, you’re spending a perfectly fine Saturday with me and three kids walking around in the woods on the hunt for baby monsters.”

He chuckled at the sentiment, “I wanted to hang out with you, but I wasn’t expecting we would be doing this.”

You gave a breathy laugh, “Yeah, me either.”

“Look what I’m trying to say, but failing at it is, sometimes these certain events happen no matter what, just so they would lead to a fixed outcome. Maybe even if Barbara didn’t come to your house that night with Nancy, someone else could have gotten killed, or there could be many other scenarios,” your hands flapping around in the air. “The point is, it’s in the past now, and it’s something we can’t change, we can only learn from our mistakes and walk forward.”

You stood with your fist against your hips and legs spread out a bit, it was like a knock-off superhero pose you were giving, for whatever reason. You expected to hear Steve say something along the lines of, “that was good advice” “thank you for getting that information through my thick skull” “(Y/n) Byers, I’m madly-” But all you got from him was the delicate sound of his giggles.

“What’s so funny, Harrington?” Your head tilts in question.

He held a hand to cover his mouth, a finger resting just under his nose, “Ah, it’s- it’s nothing.” “No, come on. You were so quiet just a few seconds ago, now you are giggling about something. Was it my little speech, are you making fun of me?”

He rushed to correct you, “No, no, no. It wasn’t- Thank you for the little pep talk. I appreciated it,” he held his hands out. “It’s just… I remember you used to do that little pose in elementary school,” he pointed a finger to indicate what he meant.

“Oh,” you slouched from the pose, “my mom…she uh- she used to call me her little Wonder Woman, and that was her signature pose. I saw it as a way for me to be her. I imagined I was Wonder Woman, someone who was strong, can hold her own, and protected people from monsters.”

You looked at your feet and whispered, “I’m my family’s Wonder Woman.”

You peeked over at Steve as the both of you went walking again, you talking and he was just silent, his shoulders skimming against your own. His eyes were turned down to the floor, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, wind sweeping through his hair, and his lips held a quaint smile on them.

“Yeah, I- I remember one time,” he was chuckling at the memory, “there was one time at school when- I believe it was Sharon Halloway, she shoved James Barnes in the chest and he fell straight on his ass.”

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny!” “No, I know. But after she shoved him, I saw you, small little (Y/n) Byers storming over to the scene of the crime, standing tall and protective, striking your pose to protect James.” You felt the blood rush to your cheeks because you now remember that memory and also how it ended, “Yeah, but do you also remember how Sharon shoved at my shoulder and I pushed her a bit too hard, also I might have slapped her…” Steve turned his eyes on you, “I had really bad anger problems when I was younger,” you tried to play off.

The two of you walked in silence and it was comforting.

Then Steve nudged your shoulder, “So if you’re Wonder Woman, who am I?”

You looked quizzically at him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, does she have a sidekick or something?”

You pointed a finger at him, “Steve, you may think it’s ‘nerdy’ to like comics, but I will make you read some, mark my words.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Uh, but to answer your question, there is a guy in the comics who helps her.” “And,” he pushed forward.

“Steve Trevor, he’s a fighter pilot,” ‘and a love interest’, but that’s something you won’t add.

Steve grinned at the character, “I think that’s perfect for me.”

“Yeah, completely,” you replied in a lovesick haze.

Again silence filled your bubble for a while.

And then you heard Lucas shout out from somewhere in the dark, “Guys! We’re here!” And the kids walked a bit faster, making you and Steve pick up speed to put yourselves first.

…

You and Steve shined your torches that illuminated a path that led to the road of the lab. As you were getting closer to the clearing you could hear someone shouting, you couldn’t make out what they were saying or if they were even shouting in your direction. Just as you were out of the forest, Steve was in front with the bat in his hands and you were a step behind with your ax in hand as well, Steve stopped in an abrupt halt causing Dustin to slam into your back making you trip over your feet and scramble to grab Steve for support.

“Christ, Dustin.” “Steve? (Y/n)?” The two mystery voices screeched.

You looked away from Dustin and faced the voices of Nancy and Jonathan.

“Nancy?” Steve asked while walking forward.

“Jonathan?” Dustin questioned.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked while marching forward.

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorted as your group headed toward them. “We’re looking for Mike and Will, and (Y/n) said they might be at the lab,” Nancy answered.

You felt eyes on you and you took that opportunity to grab Jonathan by his arm and yank him away from your group. You needed to talk with him anyway.

“(Y/n), why are you with Steve?” You scoffed at Jonathan’s tone, “No, you don’t get to ask questions. Especially if they involve Steve.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “What I want to know is where the hell have you been for the past two days? And why are you doing who knows what with Nancy?” You demanded an answer from him.

He rubbed a hand over his face, “(Y/n), it’s something I can’t talk about right now-” “Oh! Oh, how convenient!” “(Y/n)!” Jonathan all but yelled out your name, “what I want to know right now is why the gates to the lab are closed and why Will is inside.” He threw his arms at the closed gate where his car was stationed in front and the blacked-out lab.

Just before you could say anything the loud sound of screeching could be heard from a close distance. You turned towards your group and they were also looking at the lab, they heard the noises as well. The two of you rushed to the others, Jonathan falling beside Nancy and you beside Steve. Everyone was talking over the other, Dustin trying to explain the situation, Lucas butting in, Max providing unnecessary information. It was too much for you at the moment.

You had to step away from the noise, cover your ears, close your eyes, and hum a song to yourself to not think for just a moment. Voices were too loud, your heart was thumping too hard, your eyes were stinging, and your breathing was both harsh and quick-paced.

It wasn’t until a hand squeezing your shoulder pulled your eyes open and hands away from your ears. You saw Nancy standing beside you, a concerned pull to her brows and worry swimming in her eyes.

“You okay?” Her voice was a whisper.

You rubbed your hands over your face, “ah, just- just overwhelmed.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded at your answer. You looked away from her and at that moment you saw the lights of the lab turn on, floor by floor, the lab had lights again.

“That power’s back,” you muttered, then you turned to the group and said louder, “the power’s back!”

The six of you rushed to the guard's box, Jonathan rushing into it and pushing against the buttons. Everyone else was watching the gate, waiting for it to open. Nothing was happening.

“Let me try,” Dustin sounded impatient, you understood.

The two scuffled a bit, Dustin yelling at Jonathan and then him yelling at the buttons for not opening the gate at his touch. You started to hop on the tips of your toes, needing the stupid gate to open already so they could escape.

After what felt like hours to your racing mind, but was probably only two minutes in real-time, the gate finally opened. You exhaled a sigh of relief and headed to Jonathan’s car before he stopped you.

“What the-” “Just wait here.”

“What? No, I-” “(Y/n)! Just wait!” And with that Jonathan and Nancy hopped in his car and drove into the lion’s den.

You watched in disbelief as his headlights disappeared the further they went. Jonathan just pushed you to the side, but let Nancy go with him. Both your brothers were there and your mom, why couldn’t you go with them?

“Don’t take it personally,” Steve's voiced.

You scoffed, “Don’t- don’t take it personally? Steve, my mom, and my brother are in there. Along with Bob and possibly Hopper, those are people I care about. So I am gonna take it a bit personally when my own brother won’t let me go with them.”

Steve sighed, “(Y/n), he just wants to protect you.”

Again, you scoffed at the statement, “Little late for that,” you muttered.

Before Steve could say anything else, you saw headlights barreling towards the gate and then a horn honking repeatedly. Steve pulled you out the way and you saw the kids running as well to avoid becoming bowling pins. You saw Jonathan’s car rush past without stopping and then you saw Hopper’s truck pull up, you were so relieved at the sight. He stopped the car and waved at the five of you.

“Let’s go.” And Steve reached for the door.

He handed Max the bat and she went in first, then Lucas, and finally Dustin who you handed your ax to. There wasn’t any more room in the back so Steve hopped in the front seat first before pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms tight around your waist as your seatbelt.

With everyone in, Hopper put the car into drive and sped down the dark road like a bat out of hell.

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

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*a strike means tumblr can’t find your account*

[phxntomhives]

Welcome to my sideblog

That has most likely become my main one. But idk how to change main and second one. So yeah. So if you see @phxntomhives-98 it's still me. I just don't know why sometimes I can't switch accounts and sometimes I can.

I will try to keep this blog mostly related to Kuroshitsuji and twst but who knows what I will like next. From memes (mostly repost because I am not that funny) to theories you can find anything here.

I am not spoiler free BUT I try my best to protect the new fans and hide things under the cut. Unfortunately, I am human, so you may run into spoilers, I am truly sorry.

I am 25, she/her pronouns, INTP. I would love to get to know more people in the fandoms I am in, but eeeh my social skills are lacking. So feel free to hit my dms, I don't bite I promise. I am trying to make more moots/mutuals pls

Here most thing you can find me posting about/comments etc (under the cut because it became long ops)

Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Sebaciel shippers do not interact. I will just block and move on. If you see me liking one post tagged like that it's because I am stupid and I don't always read the tags, pls let me know and I will fix the problem.

Now that the important part is over: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW SEASON AAH. The Weston College arc is my favourite so I am very happy and it feels so nice to see my children here :3

I am up to date with the manga as well, so if you need to cry with someone, I am here. Sobbing.

My fave is Ciel, and Lizzie slander shall not be tolerated (half joking, you are free to dislike her but I am ready to fight at any time to defend her).

A couple of things you may want to check? If you are bored???

New manga chapter comments under: #Phxntomhives Kuro manga yapping

Analysis/theories

"The Parade of Battlers" song analysis

Finny grew up (chapter 211 spoilers)

Short analysis of the GFantasy May cover

The unlucky fate of the P4

Silly theory of the cricket's ending dance

Edgar sure is very much unlucky when it comes to life decision...

About Lizzie's anger (reblog theory)

Chapter 209 crack theory (to welcome denial)

Short analysis of Bluewer talking to Ciel during the Midnight party (from a reblog)

Short analysis of Undertaker's GFantasy cover

Headcanons

P4 headcanons

My kuro AU, kuro AU pt 2

Gregory scream headcanons (kind of angst)

Pandora Hearts

Very new to the fandom and I understood like half of it. Anyway it's beautiful and you all should read it! Come cry with me!

Here some fresh thoughts after I read the last chapter

Headcanon to hurt my soul

Vanitas no carte/The case study of Vanitas

Up to date with both anime and manga! And not so patiently waiting for each update. I miss them, I hope for a new chapter soon.

Twisted Wonderland (JP SERVER)

Up to date with main story and eons behind with the events ops. No I do not know japanese, tho I am trying to learn, but I started the game when that was the only version avaiable and I will not start again on eng server sorry. (Technically I have started but I had no more space on my phone and one had to go)

If you are curious about what I think about the story check #phxntomhives twst yapping (because I plan to type a lot and refuse to keep updating this list it's supposed to be pretty after all)

Theories

Events are canon. Part 2: wish upon a star.

Silver gets a title copium.

Tokyo Aliens

READ IT LEGALLY. FOR FREE. HERE I TELL YOU HOW.

WHY IS THERE NO FANDOM IT'S SUCH A NICE STORY. PLEASE GIVE IT A CHANCE.

I AM LIVING OF HALF A POST AND FANMADE TRANSLATION. HELP.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Spoiler/Analysis from scans: chapter 41, chapter 42, chapter 43, chapter 44, chapter 45, chapter 46, chapter 47, chapter 48, chapter 49, chapter 50 (After I added these I basically took over the tags plsssss)

Dr stone

It's appearing more on my feed so I had the feeling I had to add this lol. I love it dearly, I finished the manga and I need to catch up with the anime. I am extremely worried about the rumored (?) new volume that is coming ngl

Negai no Astro

Damn, I am hooked.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Aaand honestly many more, feel free to ask! If it helps, here is my not updated because it takes forever MyAnimeList! But I probably missed many of them so really, just come and ask.

I may drop some suggestions to read too sometimes, here they are

Suggestions for you <3

Why you should read Merry Marbling

If you like Negai no Astro or Tokyo Aliens PLEASE CHECK THE OTHER SERIE MENTIONED.

[zivliveblogsop]

One Piece Reread Chapter 1: Romance Dawn

It's time to kick off our reread with the very first chapter, titled (by now, very famously) Romance Dawn.

(index | next)

The first thing that comes to mind as I open to the first page is, ironically, of adaptations - at this time, every major screen adaptation of One Piece (it remains to be seen how Wit Studio will play it) has made changes to the sequence of events in the beginning of the story, either postponing the flashback to later episodes (as in Toei's anime) or interspersing the events via flashbacks in the first few episodes (as in the Netflix show). No doubt there are pacing concerns, but I find I much prefer the manga's decision to have the story play out in its entirety before we join Luffy in the present - it allows us to get acquainted with his character, and we already feel attached to him as the journey begins. We know where he came from, and we're already looking forward to travelling with him in pursuit of his ambition.

(There's also just the fact that Romance Dawn is a solid introductory chapter - so much so that its structure can be found in a lot of other manga that came after it. Just look at the first chapter of Naruto, which is almost beat for beat.)

Regardless, we open on the iconic stage-setting of Roger's execution. I'm somewhat vindicated to see that I did remember correctly, the manga (the Viz English translation, at the very least) does specify the manner of execution as beheading. This is another detail that adaptations have shied away from, from what I've seen, at least - either by avoiding showing the actual moment of death (Toei) or changing it to stabbing, for some reason (Netflix). I feel like that takes away from a very strong visual of a man cut off mid-laugh. I would be curious to know if the original Japanese also alludes to beheading, or if it is a more general term for execution that's used.

We travel, then, to Windmill Village, where I'm drawn in by the description of the place:

"A small harbor village. One year ago, a pirate ship made the village its base. The wind blows from the east. And the village is at peace."

It definitely feels like the sort of quote that might come back around, perhaps at the very end.

Luffy is first introduced to us as "villager boy" Monkey D. Luffy. The Red-Hair Pirates are nonchalant about his holding a knife, and about his (somewhat ominous) declarations - it's clear that he's already somewhat famous to this, and they're all used to it. Not so used to it, of course, that they're not taken aback by him trying to take his eye out, but by the time the scene changes to the Partys Bar, they're all in high spirits, drinking to Luffy's courage and their voyage. Their familiarity is clear, as is the very early institution of some of the series' most recurrent themes.

From the very beginning, Luffy is drawn to good times, adventure, and, most importantly, freedom.

Interestingly, Shanks rejects his crew's estimation of the pirate's life, which carries fascinating implications for his character. Shanks is pigeonholed often as being relatively laid-back, and while it might often be true, in his first and most extended appearance, he's actually quite serious about instilling the dangers of life at sea.

For as often as he's playing jokes, he's got something to say that sounds incredibly cryptic in retrospect, given what we know at this point, and what we can reasonably infer. (Roger, what was it you said to him when you came back from Laugh Tale?)

Funnily enough, Luffy seems to have a lot of respect for Beckman - calling him by the very polite "Mr. First Mate" and listening fairly diligently to his explanation for Shanks' rejection (even if he rejects it, though even Beckman admits that Luffy may have a point). For all the ways that Luffy and Shanks are alike in somewhat-irreverent disposition, Luffy does respond well, in this case, to being taken seriously, having Shanks' reasoning explained to him, and being treated with the assumption that he's capable of understanding (put a tally on the "Luffy isn't as dumb as you think he is" chalkboard, and leave a lot of room, because I'm going to be harping on it the whole way through).

Shanks and Luffy's relationship rightfully gets a lot of press, but I think this interaction does a lot to show that there's a pretty solid bond between Luffy and Beckman as well. I almost feel like Beckman was primed to handle Luffy from having to wrangle Shanks for a living.

Makino is a character that fascinates me. What happens to leave a nineteen year old as the proprietress of a bar? How did she end up as the one looking after Luffy? I doubt we're likely to get answers, but if our suspicions about her baby pay off, maybe there's a chance.

Higuma arrives, and there is brilliant economy of storytelling in these few panels - Makino's alarm, Shanks eyeing the hand on the counter, poised to step in, and Luffy eating... what is that? This is actually the first panel in which the Gomu Gomu no Mi appears. I actually went back to the last panel Luffy was in to double-check, and he was eating a regular bread roll. It's a Looney Tunes-type cut that provides an almost hysterical, irreverent laugh without breaking the mounting tension of the sequence. It really is a brilliant early example of the series' tone.

Another sequence that I feel the adaptations have failed to capture is that of Higuma breaking the bottles - the breakage is fairly violent, you actually see Shanks struggling with indignity and anger for a moment before schooling himself, which makes the lecture about choosing when not to fight feel much more effective.

That said, Luffy answering Shanks' "where are you going?" with "to find a real role model" is hilarious. He was getting zingers in even as a little kid.

It's time, then, for the Red-Hair Pirates to discover that Luffy ate their Devil Fruit - one wonders whether they truly did just happen to swipe that one by chance, or if it was intentional, and bound for someone specific... regardless, I'm a big fan of the art in this panel. The tension of the moment is broken comedically a moment later, but there's a surprising amount of emotion packed into the gestures and the expressions here that very much pique my interest. Shanks, one of these days we'll figure out what's going on with you, but for now I can only wonder...

I notice that Luffy also calls other people in the village by their job titles - Mr. Fishmonger, Mr. Mayor. His characteristic bluntness follows, but it's a cute detail. I don't remember the habit persisting - I wonder if it was Ace's bad manners that led to him nicknaming everyone he meets in the future.

Shanks does this a few times within the chapter, which is interesting - a panel where his eyes will be in shadow, and he seems almost foreboding, followed by a panel where he's fully illuminated and seems his usual, much more approachable self. Whether it's simply foreshadowing the fact that he's much more of a heavy hitter than he passes himself off as, or if it's hinting at some deeper aspects of his nature, it's very intriguing.

And for another sequence that hasn't been touched in any adaptations, Shanks standing stock-still while Lucky blows a guy away point-blank, and then a couple pages later you get Beckman putting a cigarette out in another guy's eye. I really hope we get to see more of these guys in action soon.

We're all familiar with what happens next - this all started because Luffy, despite being all talk about the Red-Hair Pirates being cowards, told Higuma he was wrong when he said the same, Higuma takes Luffy out to sea, Shanks breaks out Conqueror's Haki hundreds of chapters ahead of its formal debut (and then uses the secret fourth medical Haki to prevent himself from dying in 90 seconds via exsanguination of the brachial and axillary arteries - or something. Don't worry about it).

Something very interesting happens in a lot of emotionally significant moments for Shanks - a lot of the time, Oda doesn't let us see his eyes.

Poor Luffy tries so hard to play up his bravado, but it's already apparent that he doesn't deal well with goodbyes. Still, the stage is set - and the feeling is mutual.

Ten years later, the now-17 year old Luffy makes quick work of the Lord of the Coast and sets out, musing about the things he'll need (any takers on that tenth crew member)?

To me, the funniest change in Luffy from his child self to his young adult self is undeniably the attained nonchalance with which he confronts the things that befall him. On an informed level, we know that this is a Luffy who's spent the last ten years or so fighting lions, tigers, and bears in the jungle, but on a meta level, it works well to affirm what Shanks said just a few pages ago - he says Luffy is a lot like he was when he was a kid, and now, this older Luffy faces things with the same lightheartedness that we saw Shanks very consciously choosing. The explicit parallel between Luffy and Shanks goes a long way to characterize them both, to inform us of the hidden depths of our hero and plant the idea from the get-go that there's more to him than what might be apparent on the surface.

But anyway, down the water-hole Luffy goes - next stop, Alvida.

[aeoki]

Toyland - Prologue 1

Location:��1-B Classroom Characters: Touri & Yuuta Season: Autumn Writer: Yoshino Yuuki

Yuuta: Christmas is~ just a few~ more night’s away~♪

Touri: You’re making way too much of a fuss, commoner~ You say Christmas but it’s only been a few days since “Halloween Party” ended.

Commoners sure are a bunch of sad people, seeing how they don’t have a lot of ways to have fun and the fact that they’re being swayed left and right every time there’s an event~ 

Yuuta: Ahaha, you’re not very honest, huh, Hime-kun. I can’t imagine a kid like you not being excited for Christmas.

If you’re not a good boy, then Santa won’t visit your house, you know~

Touri: Don’t call me a kid. You’re the one who’s younger~ Anyway, getting excited for Christmas isn’t a privilege that only the commoners get.

You don’t have to tell me to be a good boy because I’m already one.

Santa’s gonna come to my house and I’ll ask him to make my wish come true~ Ehehe ♪

Yuuta: Ohh~... Hime-kun, you still believe in Santa at this age?

Touri: ……? What’re you talking about? Santa lives overseas and he’ll come into your house through the chimney if you’re a good kid, right?

Every year, I tie a huge stocking to the pillar of my bed and inside that stocking is a piece of paper with my wish on it.

And Santa personally gives me exactly what I want. Isn’t that great~? ♪

Yuuta: Yeah. Don’t ever change, Hime-kun.

Touri: Uuu~! Why’re you patting my head with a bright smile on your face? I know you’re my friend but you’re being way too casual!

I thought you were more gentle compared to Hinata, but the more I talk to you, the more I feel I’m just talking to him instead~!

Yuuta: I think it’s because it’s you, Hime-kun. I can’t help but wanna tease you all the time~

Maybe it’s something leftover from our “Circus” training.

Touri: Uuu, don’t make me remember. It’s a lot of fun talking to you two, but I don’t want any more training!

I really won’t be able to get married at this point~!

Yuuta: Ahaha, looks like that training was pretty traumatic for you, huh~

But you still became friends with me and Aniki despite that, so I guess you’re pretty strange? No, I guess you’re a nice person, Hime-kun ♪

Touri: No, that would be you two, right~? You’ll probably get something nice too out of your relationship with me.

But I don’t think you two are friends with me to gain something from our relationship…

People who ignore those sorts of advantages and disadvantages are what people call “friends”, right? That’s why I thought it would be fine for me to add you to that list.

Yuuta: I see. There, there…♪

Touri: I just told you not to pat me like that! Oh, geez, do I have to train a bad dog who doesn’t listen to what others say~?

Yuuta: Training a bad dog…? Actually, I learnt how to train animals from Aniki, so I can train you instead. Heheh ♪

Touri: Don’t say something so scary like you’re proud of it! Uuu~... I’m joking so don’t actually be serious about it!

Yuuta: Don’t cry, Hime-kun~ I’m sorry for saying something so scary this early in the day, okay?

Actually, did you always come to school this early?

I’m on classroom duty today so I came to school early to open the classroom up, but you still had time to come a bit later, right?

Tsukasa-kun usually arrives pretty early but even he hasn’t come yet.

Touri: Ugh, don’t mention that awful name… Me and him can never ever see eye to eye with each other. I really hate him.

Yuuta: You guys argue whenever you see each other, huh.

I think you guys could be pretty good friends if you two just talked things out, though~ But I shouldn’t be poking my nose into other people’s business.

I’m sure you’ve got your own opinions about things and Tsukasa-kun has his own too.

Touri: You’re pretty good at understanding people. Do you tend to take a step back because your older brother has that personality of his? Well, I guess it’s way better than a certain enthusiastic someone.

Next Chapter →

[shera-dnd]

Late to day 2, but I still delivered.

Ochako and her party venture beneath the city of Baldur's Gate in search of Toga's former master

Yes. This means exactly what you think it means. BALDUR'S GATE 3 AU!!!

Originally this was gonna be Durge!Toga, but that would take way too many words to do it justice. Instead she's taking Astarion's place and Ochako is vaguely taking Shadowheart's, but I don't go too deep into that

anyways enjoy the read!

@togachakoweekoffical

The underground chamber before them stretched beyond what Ochako ever deemed possible.

Seven thousand and six souls, all trapped together in one colossal structure, hidden just beneath the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

And now the seven thousandth and seventh soul approached it.

Every step they took through Cazador’s manor only seemed to dredge up more and more unpleasant memories for Toga. But she couldn’t turn back, she would be free, no matter what it might cost her. And Ochako would be with her to the very end.

Their steps echoed as the party descended into the ritual chamber. Ochako and Bakugo took the lead as they advanced into the ritual chamber, their respective paramours trailing behind.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Midoriya reassured her in a whisper, “just remember the plan.”

Reflexively she adjusted her pack, causing their spare weapons to rattle and clang.

“Right,” Ochako nodded, then repeated to herself, “stick to the plan…”

Next to her Bakugo let out one of his annoyed ‘chk’ s, obviously not happy to have to rely so much on an ‘istik’ .

Behind them Toga was eerily quiet. For once she had no jokes, no quippy lines, not even a little casual flirt to throw Ochako’s way. All she had now was silence .

She was afraid.

Ochako’s hand itched to latch onto Toga’s own, to pull her close, and whisper to her that everything would be okay.

But she was never given the chance as Cazador spoke, “could it be? Has our prodigal daughter returned?”

His voice alone was enough for Ochako to want to put her mace through his face.

“Say girl , has the real world proven too much for you yet again? Have you come here to beg to join our family once again?”

“Family? You call this a family? You abused us! Controlled us!” Toga hissed and stepped forward, breaking formation, “How dare you call any of that a family!?”

“Oh come now, girl,” Cazador dismissed with a wave of his hand, “you of all people should know that that’s what families do. Did I not rescue you from a far more pathetic fate at the hands of your parents? At least this way your life will serve some higher purpose.”

“Shut up!” Ochako shouted without even thinking, “Himiko’s life is worth more than your stupid ritual! She’s our friend, our family, and we won’t just stand here and let you throw her life away like it’s your property!”

Cazador looked at her with a mixture of surprise and disgust, like he was looking down at the mud that got stuck to the sole of his shoot.

“I don’t remember asking for the opinion of cattle ,” he spat.

She heard Toga shout, “don’t you dare talk to her like that!” as she lunged forward to drive her knife through his eye.

A single tap of his staff was all it took to stop her, suspended in mid air before being thrown flying through the chamber.

One moment Toga was next to them, and the next she was trapped by the ritual circle. The final soul needed for Cazador’s ascension.

Cazador cackled as his servants began to gather around the group of adventurers.

“Okay! New plan,” Deku announced, raising his hand and readying a triple shot of Eldritch Blasts, “Uraraka, you need to free Toga before the ritual is finished. Kacchan and I will keep them off you as best as we can.”

“Tsk’va!” Bakugo cursed, though he still drew his battleaxe, “don’t you dare call me that in public!”

Were this any less urgent of a situation, Ochako would have pointed out that everyone at camp had heard him call Izuku ‘ source of my bruises ’ as if that was the sappiest nickname githyanki culture could conjure.

As it stood, mocking the emotionally constipated gith could wait, right now she had a girl to save.

In a single Misty Step Ochako crossed the entirety of the ritual circle, stopping right at the step of the platform that held Toga.

The woman squirmed as the magical force held her suspended in mid air, her very soul being drained into the red beam of light. 

Ochako’s heart tightened at the pain she saw in Himiko’s face, and she didn’t need the parasite to tell just how terrified the girl was.

Before she could take another step a werewolf slumped dead in front of her, a javelin firmly impaled through its throat.

“Pay attention, istik!” Bakugo barked, bringing her back to reality.

Right. 

Can’t get distracted at a time like this.

Ochako shoved the werewolf’s corpse aside, and stepped up next to Toga. 

Underneath an intricate array of magical runes held her in place. If Momo was here, she would have cleverly unraveled the spell at the seams before giving a detailed explanation of its function.

Ochako’s solution was nowhere near as elegant, but it got the job done.

She slammed her mace down, cracking the stone under it and splitting the rune in half. This seemed enough to break whatever spell was keeping Toga in place, gently dropping the woman into Ochako’s arms.

“I got you,” Ochako assured her, “I got you, Himiko.”

The only response she got was a loud hiccuping sob as Himiko clung to Ochako as tightly as she could.

“I will never let anyone hurt you, not anymore,” Ochako soothed, before reaching for her backpack and shouting, “Midoriya, now!”

Without a second of hesitation the warlock turned his entire focus on Cazador, trapping him inside a spell of Hold Person. 

Bakugo, for his part, needed no order to jump to Izuku’s defense, making sure his companion would be able to keep focus on the spell.

Ochako pulled a different mace from her bag, with a bright golden head that shined like the sun.

“Remember what you said when we first got this?” Ochako spoke softly to Himiko. Their entire time at the Temple of Lathander had been a massive fiasco, but Toga’s words after they had all been revived had stuck with her somehow. “Something between a nice summer’s day -”

Himiko’s hand rose to meet Ochako’s, their fingers wrapping together over the handle of the Blood of Lathander, as she spoke.

“- and the full concentrated power of the sun.”

The mace ignited, a bright beam of sunlight burning through the darkness of the cavern. It was nothing compared to the lance that destroyed the temple, but it was more than enough to reduce a vampire to dust.

Himiko’s hand dropped, the legendary mace falling down to the ground and rolling off harmlessly.

She stumbled towards the ashes of her former master and looked down, almost in a trance.

“He’s dead,” she spoke, and whatever spell had dulled her emotions finally shattered .

With a shivering gasp, Toga kicked away his ashes with all her might.

“You’re dead!” she cried, stomping the ground where the bastard once stood again and again, “Dead! Dead! Dead!”

Her cries broke down into sobs as she fell to her knees, tears falling over what was left of the scattered ashes.

Toga hadn’t even noticed Ochako approaching her until she was pulled into her gentle arms.

“You’re safe now,” she soothed. “ I promise. ”

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XIV

Chapter 14

Wordcount 2,9k

Title Part XIV

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: Somehow I feel this one is more of a chapter of transition, a calm passage between two important points of the story: the party when everything is settled and the future of Hades and reader's relationship. There are no great changes or events in it, if you don't count the curious revelation on Loki's part, but I hope you like it :)

Both gods and humans agreed that the party of that year was memorable, so much that it was the main subject of the conversations for days after.

Since the guardianship period didn’t end with it, the gods and goddesses stood in the company of their students for the subsequent weeks, while the ones who adopted pupils at the night of the presentations started their work right after it, and the ones who didn’t become instructors left a few days later.

Hades’ brothers, who basically came to meet the woman about whom he talked, didn’t stay for the same amount of time: Poseidon, despite treating you with politeness, didn’t hold great affection for humans, having no reason to stay longer than necessary and leaving Valhalla in the next day, but not before talking briefly with his elder brother and stating that he would come back in a matter of months, for his presence would be requested only then; Zeus, who had some juridical matters to discuss with the Nordic head, stood for two weeks, but you rarely saw him during this time; Adamas, on the other hand, decided to stay for an entire month enjoying the delights of the blessed lands, and during this period you had some cheerful interactions, most of them supervised by Hades, who didn’t hide his contentment with such friendship: his second brother sort of adopted you as a little sister, thus being the responsible for you to feel like you were part of the family. Finally, he had to go to Hellheim in order to replace Hades in the practical aspects since the King would stay away from his domains for a couple of months. You were a bit sad when he said his farewell, but you were content to know that he would come back soon.

Now, among the deities who stood for longer, there was one whose presence wasn’t exactly good news to you: Loki, who wouldn’t leave until Odin-sama decided it was time to return to Asgard. You still didn’t forgive him completely for the episode at the balcony, but chose not to speak about it anymore; to your surprise, Loki did the same, but he would take any chances to play little tricks on you when Hades and Adamas weren’t around. None of them were as unpleasant as the one of the goblet, being limited to attempts to scare you by appearing suddenly in your way in the form of animals, statues or objects, but you somehow learned to recognize him moments before his transformations. Still, the game continued to be funny to the god, who was determined to have you as his main target – or, in his words, “as my new favorite friend”.

At first, you tried to get rid of him, but it didn’t take long for you to understand that getting rid of someone like Loki was an impossible task, so you just endured the situation. But, after some time, you found in yourself some patience to deal with him: you noticed that, even among his Nordic partners, Loki was a bit of a solitary god, more because his nature was youthful if compared to their stern manners than because of his tricks and jokes. Besides, if your supposition that he was around the same age as Hermes was correct, he must belong to the small group of young gods there, getting easily bored around the elders. The presence of many young girls, to whom anything from the gods’ land was a novelty, might have excited him, so he would divide his free time between you and the others – a routine that didn’t please Hermes, who saw his work become twice as hard now that he had to watch the girls from even closer. Finally, being his heart a mystery even to other gods, he never talked to you about it, but you started to think that he was actually cheering with the perspective of seeing a new goddess being born, something that doesn’t happen everyday, which would explain his “obsession” with you.

One day before the Nordic pantheon finally left Valhalla, you had a brief conversation at the Gardens, in which the god of Mischief found a new way to surprise you.

You somehow were talking about Hades’ enigma, and Loki was now stating that, despite being poetic just like a good enigma should be, it wasn’t really difficult.

– Hades-sama is really good with his words – he was saying – But he kept it too easy, you know? He really wanted you to solve it.

In other times, you would find yourself offended by it, as a suggestion that Hades was insulting your intelligence, but now you were just curious.

– Perhaps – you shrugged – But I really don’t care. I enjoyed working on it – and, turning directly to him, – But how long would you take to solve it, Loki-sama?

There was a statue of a woman sitting on a stone beside you. Loki was on her lap, with his legs crossed, the moment he replied to you.

– Less time than you, of course – he grinned.

– But wouldn’t it kill the diversion?

– What?

You had a narcissus in your hands. You twirled it by holding the stem between your fingers.

– I know I took too long to figure out everything, and only did it in time because of a random accident, but I had a good time in the process. I believe this is more important – you smiled to yourself – I feel like I became another person after solving it, and I have no desire to come back to what I was before. And, in my opinion, we shouldn’t even want to come back.

Loki frowned, but agreed.

– I suppose you’re right – he sighed, his feet dangling on your peripheral sight as he spoke –You know what? When I saw you for the first time, I thought you were just a cute, simple girl, but I started to change my mind when I talked to you. You’re a really interesting creature, y/n-chan.

Now, you were the one who frowned. What did he mean with “saw you for the first time”? Did he see you before the episode of the serpent?

– I don’t understand. When did you...?

– Ah, don’t you remember? – he seemed to be enjoying each second of your surprise – I thought you were the type who recognizes a fake when you see one.

– I…

– Hm… Shortly after entering the ball room, you went to a table and started observing the names of the seats. Then, an elf woman came to offer her help, presenting you the very seat you were occupying at the table. Do you remember her? – and, more to himself than to you, – I could swear we have the same eyes...

You held your breath. You remembered the beautiful elven maid with red hair who came to guide you through the table, and who told you that your name was settled between Hades’ and Zeus’ as a request from the first one. So, that woman was actually Loki?

– It was you, then… – you murmured the obvious.

The god created the same crown of yellow flowers the elf wore and put it on his own head, then started moving on the statue’s lap, cheering: he had no scruples in seeking for attention and compliments.

– Are you impressed, y/n-chan? – he asked, clearly waiting for a response.

You sighed. If he was going to leave Valhalla and soon stop testing you, there was really no reason for you to deny something so silly, but apparently so important to him.

You opened your best smile to reply:

– I am. It was really impressive – you shrugged – And, to be honest, that disguise was much better than the white snake.

Loki's cheeks got red when he heard that.

– Really? Do you think so?

– Yes – you replied with sincerity – I really liked it.

Loki’s eyes glowed up with the confirmation, and for a moment you thought he was going to cry. You thought his reaction was too emotional – too honest – for someone whose first instinct was to hide his true disposition, but the thing was that observations about his abilities were a sensitive matter to him, given that he didn’t always get recognition for his talents among other gods.

In the end, your case with him had a more peaceful ending that you thought to be possible, and when the Nordic group finally left the blessed lands, Loki seemed so sad for separating from you that you got worried.

Is it just me or was he really developing a crush on me?

***

During the next months in Valhalla, you lived what looked like a dream.

You spent a good amount of your time alone, but sometimes you appreciated the company of the girls. There was a curious change in how you were seen by them: some who were among the first to find guardians and haven’t built a close friendship with you were now willing to treat you as an acquaintance; you, on the other hand, preferred to seek the company of the others who, just like you, took longer to find their place there. These ones, you sensed it, were really happy for you, and wouldn’t hesitate in drowning you with questions about your future and how “dating a god”, as they used to say, felt like; you were willing to answer them as best as you could, but there were some things you were yet to discover, and others that you’d rather keep to yourself.

Your most recurrent contact, however, was with Hades, who would be there until the time for him to leave the world of the living would come – and the time for you to decide if you would go with him or not.

Since the King of Hellheim was now playing a role similar to that of an instructor, your routine was now organized primarily by him: you continued your studies at the Library, but now they were directed to themes related to the Underworld, the destiny of souls and many other metaphysical themes. Just like the researching sessions you’ve been doing by yourself, those lessons used to take entire afternoons, during which you would discuss every subject in each possible detail, as you would listen to his explanations with a mixture of curiosity and fascination, taking so many notes that Hermes had to get you a new notebook after a few weeks.

During those days, you and Hades became the closest friends. Communication between you were free and constant, and it didn’t take long until it became your favorite part of the day. Because of the countless ages during which he has been alive, Hades knew stories about many places and many people, some of them long gone, others still existing by the time you were born; you loved sitting by his side and listening in awe as he described the appearance, personality and principles of men and women whose names were now part of History, the difficulties and rewards of their journeys and the lands they walked on, all of this in the god’s soothing voice and wise choice of words that made you feel like part of those adventures. By the end of the stories, you would discuss what you would do exactly like the heroes and what you would avoid, and ask many questions about details that Hades forgot or didn’t have time to explain.

During those conversations, you also had opportunities to reveal many things about your life as a human to him. You told him that you lived in the same house you were born with your parents, your sisters, Luna and Helena, and a niece, Ellie, who was still a toddler; this latter was actually daughter of your elder sister, Nora, who passed away months after the girl came to the world, so now she was raised as one of your own and you were now the eldest girl of the family, with Luna being fifteen years old and Helena twelve. Despite your city being considered small, it was a port city, so that you used to meet all kinds of people in its streets while you worked alongside your mother, and in your school there were kids who would present themselves as workers of the ships and would stay as temporary students, taking lessons for a few days or a few weeks until they left the town with their ships. Your homeland was a fantastic place to live, as much as a dangerous one, where things were never the same except for the ones who stood in it like you. It was funny that, no matter how trivial, ordinary the events you told him seemed to be (at least in your eyes), Hades would pay close attention to each sentence with utter interest; at first, you thought that, for someone with his knowledge, he was exaggerating in this, but as time passed you understood that it was the first time in his life that he became so close to a human and found yourself more and more comfortable in your narratives: he was perhaps the most attentive listener you’ve ever had, and that was good thing.

You two discovered many things in common, such a deep interest in History, arts, literature, philosophy and the mysteries of the mind, and would have much fun exchanging books at the Library, inventing games and sharing opinions on the things you’ve learned, but you also had significant differences, for example, while Hades had a great understanding of politics and laws, you were just crawling on these subjects, having to be told everything from the basics. But not all divergences between you were this big: some were simple, even funny, such as his passion for crafting (well seen in the hairpin he created for you) and your complete lack of talent for it: he even tried to teach you some techniques, but after a few attempts you both decided that, for the sake of your relationship, you should stop there. After some days, however, you realized that your struggling in this sense derived from your inability of make use of already existent tools, with no possibility of alterations or spontaneous creation, so there might be some hope for you in the future.

In the meantime, you paid a visit to Valhalla’s Greenhouse and discovered a new hobby, one that you would never have the chance to develop in your homeland: botany. You fell in love with the study of flowers and plants, and the possibility of creating new ones, with unique characteristics, using the science of the gods, quickly became a passion, so that your free time were now spent mostly among the greenhouse’s experiments. Hades used to make you company during those hours, and observed your activities with a smile. One day, when you asked him why he seemed so satisfied in observing while you worked, he just replied that witnessing one’s love for a study field was always satisfying; you didn’t continue that conversation, but you had the sensation that he caught a glimpse of your future in it.

***

There was a morning when you were together at the Secret Garden, resting under the pomegranate tree after having your breakfast there. Hades had his back on the tree’s trunk while you were on his lap, making a crown with some flowers you managed to grow the last days, as the empty plates were left beside you upon a cloth.

You were talking about a book you just finished reading, and you stated that the antagonist reminded you of Loki.

Hades seemed surprised with this observation.

– Really? But to which aspect of Loki’s personality you’re referring to? Because, you see, he’s more than what you had the chance to observe during his short stay here.

You smiled while your fingers braided the hems of two flowers together: you already had half of the crown finished.

– The part of him that unconsciously seeks for people’s attention – you explained – Even if he has to get it through negative ways.

– It’s probably his most prominent trait – Hades commented – Most of the times, it is inoffensive, but he can cause great damage when he’s really invested.

– I see – you took another flower to braid with the crown – Just like the book’s character, that’s certainly an irritating trait, but I think it couldn’t be any different. Being the god of Mischief, this must be the only way of living known to him.

– And do you think it’s limiting him? Because he doesn’t see that way.

– No – your hands stopped working for a moment – I just think it’s sad.

You saw Hades taking one of the flowers on your lap, then felt his fingers brushing your hair before placing the flower in them, behind your ear.

– You know, I could say I don’t enjoy seeing your moods shaken by someone who’s now miles away from us, or tell you to not feel so deeply sorry for him – he gave you the same sad smile you saw at the party, when you talked at the balcony after Loki’s provocation – But I know it would be useless because, apparently, that’s how your heart works. It’s a rarity to see such thing, and it only makes it more beautiful.

After feeling your cheeks warming up at this, your response was to take a flower and repeat Hades’ gesture, leaving it behind his ear to match your own.

– I wish I could be harder in my judgments, but I just can’t – you smiled – Still, if you think it’s beautiful to be like this, then I guess I can be satisfied.

Part XV

[anmylica]

Fly With the Black Swan

Chapter Two: The Avalanche

Tagging the Usual Crew: @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @sotangledupinit @tiganasummertree @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @whimsicallyenchantedrose @deckerstarblanche

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Their arrival in the tiny port town came late at night. After settling the matter of docking and arranging shore leave for the majority of his crew, save the skeleton shift for the night watch, Hook met with a handful of his most trusted sailors to plan for their reconnaissance trip. After staying awake for way too long that evening making plans, they agreed to set out the following morning in order to rest and gather supplies. The North Mountains were known to be cold and snowy all year long, so Hook and his crew would need to be prepared.

“Make sure that a skeleton crew mans the ship at all times,” Hook repeated to Mister Bones, the second mate, who was to stay with the ship and watch over her. He had already made sure to stress this order to the man, and Mister Bones clearly was weary of hearing Hook’s insistence, nodding his head and waving his hand in the air. Hook ignored the man’s dramatics, well used to the man’s mannerisms due to how long they had sailed together on this ship. “Arrange for shifts each day. I don’t want to come back to the Jolly Roger commandeered by someone else.”

“Aye, sir,” Mister Bones nodded exasperatedly for the upteenth time. Finally satisfied that his ship would be taken care of, Hook turned his attention to the rest of the preparations. He knew his ship would be in good hands with the second mate for all his nagging. Mister Bones had come on as a member of his crew shortly after Hook’s turn to piracy, and he had been loyal ever since. Hook spared no more thought to the matter as he made way into town to arrange for transportation of some sort and the necessary supplies.

The morning had dawned bright, a perfect cloudless day with a comfortable wind that belied the coldness that awaited them as they climbed into the mountainscape of the Diamond Peaks range. They had arranged for horses to take them through the valleys, and the band of pirates collected their mounts from the local stable, a small structure that barely had enough extra horses to lend to the men. Hook had made sure that the owner of the stables would be compensated fairly as a result.

Once they collected their mounts, they made haste for the Emerald Pine Pass, the road through the mountain range that would hopefully lead him to the next step in his revenge. The crew of six plus their captain were in good spirits, singing sea shanties and telling jokes at each other’s expense (especially Smee’s) as they started the first leg of their journey. Starkey, a tall, wiry pirate who served as Hook’s master gunner, told bawdry jokes the entire time. Black Murphy, an older man from the Tolou province of Northern Wei, joined in with Starkey, egging him on.

Damien Salt and John Turk, both from Tirulia, spent their time reminiscing about previous fights they won at taverns they had all been patrons at in the past. One Eyed Jack rode silently alongside Smee, occasionally correcting details in any of the stories told by their accompanying party members. Hook led the pack, slightly ahead of the others, but close enough to laugh and chime in with remembered details of his own. His revenge was never far from his mind, so he was more subdued than his compatriots.

Their journey through the Emerald Pine Pass was slow. Snow banks that hadn’t yet melted in the sun frequently cut off parts of the road, and so their horses had to wade through it. Because of this, they had to pause to take frequent breaks to warm the animals and make sure they were taken care of during the voyage. Other than these minor annoyances, the trip had begun without a hitch. That should have been Hook’s first clue that things were about to go awry.

Their good fortune with the balmy, mild weather didn’t hold up. As they slowly climbed in elevation, the temperature dropped. Hook began to grow more and more concerned at the weather conditions, worrying as to whether he and his men could carry on with their already slow pace. Each day brought worse and worse conditions. As the temperature dropped more and more, Hook recalled how some of the locals had spoken of the quickly changing weather and of how sudden snow storms uncommon for the warmer seasonal months could sometimes sporadically appear. He hoped this was just a fluke and the temperatures would begin to warm again, but his hope was to be vain. On the sixth day of the otherwise boring journey, a blizzard came through the area, covering everything in a blanket of snow and whiting out the pass. Hook and his crew had no choice but to hunker down and wait it out.

“A bloody menace these storms are,” Starkey complained around a feeble fire, shivering as he held a thick fur blanket around his shoulders.

“Aye, the deserts of Agrabah are a tropical paradise compared to this,” Damien Salt sneered, holding out a piece of hardtack on a long stick over the fire in an attempt to thaw it out.

“I think I’d take a typhoon,” Starkey shot back, clenching the fur blanket tighter around his wiry frame.

“At least we have shelter,” Smee said, pointing to their makeshift tent, the only thing protecting them from the worst of the elements. “And we can sing songs to pass the time.”

The group collectively groaned, for singing shanties had gotten old after the third day. John Turk and Black Murphy threw pieces of hardtack at their first mate, who crouched and flinched to try and avoid being pelted. Hook sighed but said nothing, continuing to sip from his rum flask that has refilled itself since the last time he had corked it closed. For as much as he hated most magic with a passion, he had to once again thank the gods for his foresight in having the bottle enchanted to always refill itself. He was going to need every drop being stuck here with this lot.

One Eyed Jack rolled his eyes and got up to brave the conditions to check on the horses rather than stick around for Smee’s usual false cheer. Hook ignored them all as they carried on with their antics, double-checking his calculations for how far they still had to go. He hoped the weather would move on and allow them to carry on with their journey. He sipped his flask of rum as he did so, finding that the warmth from the rum made the temperature in the tent almost pleasant.

The rest of the men eventually broke out a deck of cards and proceeded to play a few rounds of five card poker to pass the time. The storm outside grew worse and worse as the evening proceeded and night fell. They all fell into an uneasy sleep at different points in the night, save for a couple left to keep watch. By establishing shifts, they were able to keep their fire going even through the raging storm. Each one checked on the horses at the start of their watches, so there would hopefully be no problems in setting out once the storm passed.

It was just Hook’s luck that the storm lasted three long, miserable days. As petty arguments began to break out that he would have to quell, he began contemplating just how lost he could get in the melee if he left their sorry arses there. After the latest squabble between Starkey and Smee about going to fetch more firewood, Hook rolled his eyes and drank more from his flask, thankful once again that he had had it enchanted to never run out long before his sojourn to Neverland. He vowed to keep up a steady buzz so as to be able to better tune out the bickering of his crew.

The morning after the blizzard finally blew itself out dawned clear and bright, much like their first day in Sapphire Springs. The light off the snow was blinding in these early hours. Hook applied a new layer of kohl to try and help with the glare, but it did little to actually help. Smee, Starkey, Black Murphy, One Eyed Jack, Damien Salt, and John Turk all followed suit with their own kohl, grumbling and griping all the while about not having warm enough clothes and lamenting that they hadn’t stayed behind on the ship.

The group quickly broke camp after a hasty breakfast of hardtack and cured meats, not wanting to linger long in these colder conditions. The group were mostly silent as they packed their belongings into the saddlebags of their horses, tamping their feet and rubbing their hands as they blew into their cupped fists, trying to keep the cold at bay as they did so.

Black Murphy glanced around warily as he tightened the straps on his saddle. “It’s mighty warm today,” he muttered, his breath coming out in foggy clouds. “Much warmer than it was yesterday.”

“Thank the gods for that,” Damien Salt sneered. “Maybe my hands won’t fall off before I get back to the ship.”

“Your hands were already gonna fall off, Salty,” wheezed One Eyed Jack. “What with all your time in front of the forges repairing our cutlasses.”

“Aye, and if you lot would be more careful about breakin’ ‘em, I wouldn’t have to lose any appendages,” Salt laughed. “No offense, Captain,” he added with a respectful nod of his head.

Hook shrugged the comment off, much like he did the cold conditions they were in. “None taken. Are we all ready?”

A chorus of “Ayes” rang out from the others, and he mounted his horse, tugging his duster closed tight once he was settled in the saddle. “Then let’s shove off. We might not have much time before the next snow storm comes and cuts off the pass entirely.”

The others nodded and mounted their horses as well. They began riding through the snow, their horses trudging along through the thick drifts. As the morning progressed, the day grew warmer and warmer, much to the relief of the crew. They had settled into a companionable silence, speaking only briefly as they moved steadily forward. They ate more hardtack and cured meat whilst on the move around noon.

Shortly after they had finished their meal, a soft thump echoed through the mountain air. Smee looked around in concern, having been the one of the group paying the most attention to their surroundings.

“What was that?” Smee asked. The others listened, but the sound didn’t happen again.

“‘S probably your imagination,” Starkey rolled his eyes. Smee had been famous amongst the crew in Neverland for hysterics at the slightest thing gone wrong.

“I heard something,” Smee insisted. “It wasn’t my imagination.”

“Let’s see if it sounds off again,” Black Murphy sighed as he rolled his eyes, hoping the two sailors would avoid another argument.

The group fell silent again. After a moment, another soft whump sounded, this time from higher up the mountain peak they were under. The sound echoed off the sides of the surrounding mountains.

“There it is again!” Smee exclaimed. “What is making that noise?”

John Turk smirked. “Perhaps it’s your stomach.”

The sailors laughed, save for Hook, who just smiled wryly. Another well-known fact about his first mate was Smee’s propensity for constantly eating, drinking, or even just thinking about food. Smee turned red from embarrassment and didn’t respond.

No one else said anything, content to fall back into silence as they trudged forward. The whumping sounds could be heard occasionally, coming more and more frequently as they continued.

Hook glanced up at the sky. Seeing that it was getting quite late in the afternoon and they had maybe only an hour or two before sunset, he halted his horse.

“Let’s set up camp,” he ordered. “I don’t want to get to nightfall without at least a fire going.”

The pirates agreed and began the process of making camp. Smee went off to gather firewood, and wandered off aways as the rest began pitching tents and readying the ground for the fire.

Just as Smee bent over to pick up a large branch, a large cracking sound echoed off the ridge, causing the pirates to pause and look around in befuddlement. Hook surveyed the mountainside above them. He gasped when he laid eyes on what it was that had caused that sound. An avalanche was coming right towards them from the nearest mountainside.

“Run!” he bellowed, gesturing at his men to grab their horses and try to get out of the way.

Five of the pirate crew managed to react quickly and led the way, but Smee, having been the furthest away, fell behind. Hook was nearly to the tree line when he glanced back to see his first mate struggling in the snow.

He groaned and turned back. He struggled to get his horse to turn back around, but once he did, he made it over to Smee in moments. He wrapped the reins loosely around his hook and reached for Smee's hand. Smee grabbed it and Hook hoisted the man up on the horse’ back in front of him, Smee hanging on for dear life to the side of the saddle as his legs dangled awkwardly in the air.

The horse had already struggled to carry Hook through the snow, but now that it had to carry Smee and Hook, it could barely leap over the snowbanks. The horse whinnied and shrieked in fright as it struggled to maneuver through. Hook could see his men in the tree line, cursing and yelling at him to hurry up. The tree line looked to be safe from the falling snow, and Hook nudged his heels deeper into the horse’s sides, hoping against hope that they would make it.

He was forty feet away. Then thirty. Then twenty-five. He felt his horse struggle even more and begin to slow from the exertion, and he jumped off, growling in frustration. There was no way they were going to make it at this rate.

“Captain!” Smee protested but Hook waved him off.

“I’ll be fine. Go!” Hook ordered. The horse began to move faster to the tree line now that its load had been lightened, and it finally made it to the tree line to safety with Smee dangling from the saddle.

Hook was feet away from the tree line, himself, but as he surveyed the flying snow and debris, he sensed with the kind of perfect clarity that accompanied deadly experiences that he wasn’t going to make it. He ducked down into the snow, covering his head with both arms just as it piled on top of him. His crew yelled frantically as he was buried, but they couldn’t be heard over the din.

Hook felt himself get swept away. Everything was a mass of white. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know which way was up. He couldn’t stop his descent.

He smashed hard into some object buried beneath the snow, knocking what little wind he had left. His body felt as if it were on fire. Still he tumbled on. As he finally, finally ground to a halt, his last coherent thought was of how badly his right side hurt. Hook’s eyes slid closed and he knew nothing more.

After some time, Hook could feel his life slowly slipping from his grasp as he came around back to consciousness. His body hurt everywhere, though the feeling was growing weaker every moment he lay there on the snow and debris. Dazed, his vision blurry, he tried to survey his surroundings. The last thing he recalled was the sight of his crew looking on in helpless terror as the snow overtook him, burying him under the mountain of snow and debris in the avalanche as it swept him away. He had knocked into something hard, and he knew instinctively that it had damaged something inside.

He didn’t have long left.

He squinted his eyes against the brightness of the snow that still surrounded him. The snow was dislodged all around him, rocks and pieces of trees scattered throughout the white from where they had been swept away along with him. He had somehow managed to come to a stop at the surface of the snow, which was lucky even if he were dying. Finally his eyes alighted on a lone dark object in the blinding whiteness of his surroundings. He focused through the dizziness on the figure, his heart seeming to come to a stop when his vision finally focused.

It was a woman, with blonde hair as fair as any in Arendelle that he had seen and eyes as green as the evergreen trees around them. Her lips were the color of blood and her eyes were rimmed in an interesting style of kohl that Hook had never before seen, even considering all of his travels throughout the centuries. Her hair looked fluffy, like the down of a newly hatched chick, and she was dressed all in black. Her legs were encased in the tightest black leather pants he had ever seen on a woman, tighter than even Milah had worn hers. Her black leather jacket looked like it had been taken from the skin of a snake, and it was closed tightly over her form. She wore black knee-high heeled boots.

These details were observed, filed away, and dismissed in a heartbeat. It was her skin that gave away who she was.

Her skin, though deathly pale, was covered in white, glittery scales. Hook had seen only one other person with scaly skin like this in his long life.

This woman was the newest Dark One.

He watched as the woman blinked and then approached him. She knelt down to his left, surveying him critically.

“You don’t have much time,” she said, her voice a husky drawl. “You’ll die soon if something isn’t done to prevent it.”

Hook blinked. He grunted, but didn’t actually respond like he wanted to. The pain surged through him, robbing him of his voice.

“I can save you with a flick of my wrist,” she said mildly, carrying on as if he hadn’t tried to speak. “It’s very easy magic, healing internal damage. But it comes at a price.”

Hook eyed her with alarm. He sneered, gathering his breath for one response, whispered and barely overheard through the whipping wind around them: “I’ll not pay any price for your evil.”

She raised her brows in mild surprise but otherwise gave no other reaction. She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “The price is 15 years of servitude. No more; no less.”

Hook sneered, whispering, “I’d die before I become a Dark One’s plaything.” His efforts ended in a hacking cough, spitting out blood into the pure fallen snow.

The woman hummed. “It’s up to you. You obviously were in pursuit of something coming into these inhospitable mountains, but I’m sure your pride is worth giving up on that business of yours. You can die knowing that you failed in obtaining whatever it was you sought.”

She stood silently and turned to walk away, picking her way gracefully through the detritus around them. As he watched her perfectly postured form go, Hook thought about all that he had wanted, and all that he had gone through to get his revenge. He remembered how it had felt to hold Milah in his arms one last time as she lay there on the deck of his ship, panting and moaning from the pain of having her heart slowly crushed to dust. He recalled watching the dust blow into the wind along with all of his dreams and plans for the future. He remembered the high pitched gleeful giggle of Rumplestiltskin’s as the demon murdered his estranged wife and mother of his child in cold blood. He thought of the wracking pain his heart had felt as it shattered beyond repair. The pain of losing his hand was nothing compared to the emotional upheaval her loss had caused. Finally, he thought of leaving the demon itself in this world, of not making it pay for preying upon people and twisting them to its sick desires, and he shuddered out of disgust. He could not let his life’s purpose go unmet. Not now. Not when the creature responsible for every torment he had felt these last centuries was standing mere feet from him at last.

He closed his eyes in despair for the choice he was about to make. He had sworn once he had clawed his way out of indentured servitude that he would never be enslaved to another’s bidding again. He had had to agree to similar terms as these during his long stint in Neverland, playing the errand boy to Pan’s machinations, and he had sworn again, No more. Hook desperately tried to recall Milah’s bright smile, faded from his memory due to the passage of time, and of her gray eyes as they looked on at him in pain and heartbreak. He couldn’t let his revenge go, not at the cost of his own life. Not if the price was another stint of servitude alongside the demon that caused all his pain.

“Wait,” he grunted, closing his eyes against his decision.

The Dark One stopped and turned back. She walked back to his side and knelt by him again. “Have you changed your mind?”

Hook closed his eyes, fighting for coherence through his injuries. “I agree to ten years of service.” He was panting harder and harder, the breath he needed to speak growing harder to muster. If he couldn’t accomplish his goal in another ten years, it would be worth suffering this new Dark One’s wrath as he met his end at her hand. Either he would have his revenge or he would be united at last with his beloved. Ten years would have to be worth it all.

The Dark One considered him. She nodded once and waved her hand over his form. Golden light flowed from her hand and into his body. He felt his body heal, the cuts and lacerations closing up, the broken bones forging new ties, the bleeding and bruising stopping and reversing. He began to breathe easier, taking deeper breaths each time, and finally, he was healed.

He raised up into a half sitting position, surveying his body with awed interest, when he noticed a black band around his wrist just below the edges of his tattoo.

“The band represents your agreement to provide services to me. It is magically binding, breakable only by my magic or your completed time. You will not be able to remove it in any way. Once your ten years are up, it will disappear.”

He looked up at the Dark One in shock and fear. She had already turned her back on him.

“My pet will be along momentarily to bring you to my residence. Don’t try to run; it will only make things worse for you if you do.” She stepped forward and disappeared in a cloud of gray-white smoke.

Hook looked wildly around him. He was alone on the mountainside, the sun quickly setting below the horizon. Even if he could run, he had no way of knowing which way to go. His crew were nowhere to be seen, and the mountain was silent. He started shivering and tugged his leather duster closer to him, cursing his ability to now feel the cold he hadn’t felt while he had been dying.

He didn’t have long to wait before this supposed “pet” came along. A rush of wings sounded from overheard, and he looked up, gasping when he realized what it was.

A giant black swan slowly descended from the air, just a ways down the mountain from him. He gaped at it as it landed and tucked its wings against its body. It stared at him with a familiar green gaze, though he couldn’t place why the eyes looked familiar. He slowly stood from his stooped position.

The bird had to be at least as tall as a house and as wide as a small barn. He eyed its beak warily, but it seemed to want to do nothing but blink at him.

“Are- are you here to bring me to the tower?” he asked with uncertainty. The black swan nodded once.

“Am I meant to walk with you?”

The black swan shook its head.

Hook frowned. “Then how are we meant to go there?”

The black swan lowered its head to the snow and unfolded a wing, dipping it to the snow as well in a strange sort of bow. Hook blinked.

“…You want me to ride on your back?” he asked slowly.

The swan looked up at him, its green eyes blinking, and nodded once.

He sighed in uncertainty and looked at the swan’s back. He wasn’t sure how to mount the animal without injuring it with his hook. He found that, though he loathed the thought of being the Dark One’s servant, he did not want to hurt this beautiful pet of hers. It seemed so innocent.

He stepped up to its side and stroked the feathers along its neck. “I apologize if I hurt you,” he murmured before taking hold of a bunch of feathers and hoisting himself up.

He somehow managed to get settled on the bird’s back without pulling any feathers out, but it had been an awkward mounting. He swayed unsteadily as it raised its head, grabbing on with his right hand firmly to keep from falling off. Hook had just managed to secure his grip on the feathers when the bird unfurled its wings and flapped them hard, launching them both into the air.

Hook grabbed the bird’s neck out of an instinctual fear, closing his eyes against the wind and the rapidly receding ground below. He sat paralyzed, afraid to move an inch lest it dislodge his hold on the feathers in his hand. He had never wished more for the return of his left hand than he had in that moment. After a few minutes, once the ascent had steadied, he slowly opened his eyes. He raised his head up slightly and looked around.

The sight was beautiful, Hook had to admit. Though he had always preferred the sea, there was something majestic about these mountains. The sun’s rays hit the peaks just right, singing a melody of sight. He smiled slightly at the view.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the swan began its descent. He leaned as far over as he dared, desperate to see what their destination was. Growing ever closer was a tall tower resting in a valley, completely surrounded by mountains on all sides.

‘How perfect,’ Hook thought. ‘A prison surrounded by land.’

The tower extended quite high into the sky; it had to be at least seven or eight stories. The landscape around it was littered with trees and bushes and flowers of all colors. The tower’s edifice was cheery looking, casting a reflection on to the lake beside it in the now dimming light of evening. It was a stark contrast to the imposing figure that Rumplestiltskin’s castle cut in the countryside of the kingdom in which he had chosen to live after losing his son to his cowardice.

The brick was a smattering of pink and red and white, and windows dotted the sides in levels. The roofline was pointed, the shingles were a pretty cerulean blue, and a Germonian flag flew at the top of a spire. Hook wondered at the flag and why the new Dark One would live in a tower that sported the Germonian flag. He stared at the yellow buttercup on the crimson background for a moment longer before turning his attention to the rest of the valley.

He must have been a thousand feet above the ground, far higher than he had ever been before, even when his ship had the Pegasus sail as they flew to Neverland. A quick survey of the mountains showed no way out, save the aerial kind. Hook frowned. He knew there had to be some way out of this valley; it was simply a question of finding it. He noticed a stream that flowed through the grounds and into the lake just a ways down the shore from the tower, and Hook wondered whether the stream possibly held a way out.

The black swan dove down sharply, startling him from his thoughts. It glided down, down, until it landed on the ground. He clambered gracelessly off its back, falling to his knees once he was back on the ground. The black swan spread its wings and took back off to the air, flying beyond the mountains until he couldn’t see it any more. He turned back to the tower and contemplated the lone door that led into the structure. Before he could take a step towards it, he fell to the ground hard and passed out. He never noticed the Dark One standing behind him with her hands raised, the remnants of a sleeping powder made from poppies blowing in the wind from where she had blown it out of her hands and onto the pirate captain.

The Dark One stood over him, surveying him with curious eyes in the dimming light, before smiling softly. With a casual wave of her hand, the door of the tower shimmered with the release of a ward that served to keep anyone out of her home away from home. She gave one last lingering look to the pirate captain before going inside, waving her hand once more to send his sleeping form to a guest bedchamber that had never before been used. When she stepped onto the threshold, she closed the door, grinning widely at her new fortune.

Somewhere deep inside, the Darkness gave a heaving shudder at this new turn of events.

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 62

I only just now realized there was a phone on the table Ed and Riza were sitting at. There are a few panels where we can't see it despite how it should be in-frame.

I'm glad Ed is self-aware enough to understand his statement about self sacrifice applied to him.

I love how May's imagination of what Alphonse looks like has that 1970/1980s anime style.

Ed and Al meet back up and realize they don't have any plans beyond getting Al's body back. All they come up with are simple ideas. Ed wants to make his loved ones smile and Al wants to eat an apple pie.

Simple works sometimes. If asked why they want to get their old bodies back, it would probably be too hard and abstract to explain. What would it even be like to have them again? What's the ultimate reason? But that anchor helps. Al wants to get his body back because he can't eat an apple pie without it.

Simple answers have helped in complex situations. Recall that Hughes said he fights because he doesn't want to die.

Who's idea was it to go for the extra drama in faking Marcoh's death?

And what was the conversation like?

"There. Everything is set up. Let's leave." "Wait! We need to make it clear [Dr. Marcoh was] murdered. Let's write "VENGEANCE" on the walls in blood! That will make it clear!" "I don't think we have to do that." "No we have to do it!"

If it was Scar, I can imagine he's been wanting to do something like that for a while. If it was Marcoh, then he probably just thought he needed to add it to be sure the trick works. If it was both of them, then all I can imagine is them giggling to each other over pulling off an epic prank.

Extra question is how they escaped without issue. I guess the hidden passages Scar was using didn't have nearly as many chimeras.

I'm so glad this one joke happened at least once.

Throughout the series, random bystanders are constantly looking at the characters' antics because of course they should. People saw the commotion when Hawkeye fought Barry. People stared at Alex Louis Armstrong because of his height. People stared at Foo and Lan Fan because of their outfits. People stared as Roy and Hawkeye commandeered someone's car.

People stare at weird things and the cast of FMA are all weird.

And now this arc is coming to a close. Scar's party is traveling north for the next part of their story. Meanwhile, Roy's team all say their goodbyes to each other, to Roy, to Hawkeye, and to Sergeant First Class Black Hayate. And Roy is beginning the next part in his story by finding new allies to help him out.

In the manga, Roy just says he lost all his chess pieces, but in the anime, we're shown which member corresponds to which piece. Roy is the king and Hawkeye is the queen obviously. Meanwhile, Fuery is the pawn, Falman is the bishop, Breda is the rook, and Havoc is the Knight.

I wonder if the girls at Madame Christmas's establishment share the same names as the codenames Roy's team used during the Super Heist. One girl was named Vanessa and Falman's codename was "Vanessa'

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