#the way i perked up at the instant recognition

[donutghoul-a]

👫

( send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship. )

001. bound to each other as it is, there's a fixed anchor inside both of them: their souls just slot together oh-so nicely. they complement each other, despite their shared differences, flaws, and all. it almost feels like both of them belong to each other -- it's an instant recognition when they first meet even before bonding via ingesting the mermaid scales ( it's a "matchmaking charm": a curse that ties two individuals together through space and time. )

002. Hanako does a good job of distracting her frequently; especially while she's in class. you can always find Hanako skulking around just out of her field of vision -- frowning at students' textbooks, looking over half-hearted notes from her classmates, or moving the pens on the teacher's desk just so. Nene attempts to fight to keep her attention on her lessons and off him, but he's always looking proud every time when he looks up and finds her already looking at him.

003. they're able to communicate silently with each other. it's a unique way of exchanging thoughts like when they're knocking each other's knees when sitting to point something out. or making eye contact and knowing exactly what the other is thinking without saying a word. neither of them is sure if it has to do with their bond, if it the two of them just spend too much time together, but Hanako always seems to know what Nene means with nonverbal cues.

004. he loves to listen to her ramble. even if he has no idea what she's talking about -- his ears perk up to the sound of her and she has his undivided attention on her. he listens to her when she has a list of things to do, or when Nene talks about her love for her hamsters, or whenever she's full of excuses against her own inner criticisms. even when she talks about boys, he still teases her lightly over it ( which she does a lot of ... and she does it, A LOT. jealousy always manages to rip through him in a gust, settling in a low, seething hum ) -- but other times, he doesn't say anything about it. he knows she'd stop talking completely if he points out that she's been going at it for hours.

(BONUS) 005. if it were up to him, it would be decidedly hard for Nene to maintain friendships outside of Hanako and whomever he seems fit to be her friend due to his own selfish/possessive behavior. not that that’s the case. still, he likes to remind her ( constantly, desperately, whispered quietly in the space between her shoulder blade ) that no human could treat her better than he could. no one could know her better than he could.

[bxldrsdraumar]

Sigurd couldn't help laughing when Fenris shook his head – not with any malicious spirit, of course, and he held a hand down to young Leonardo to heave him back to his feet. But he did laugh nonetheless, the absurdity of the situation beginning to catch up. 

"Poor boy must have needed a scritch," he chuckled, clearing his throat. "All right, then, lad? Let's dust you off, and we shall try again. I can go first, if that's your preference." 

Facing the dog down now, no larger than a thumb, he could have seen why the boy might have been intimidated, unsure – if Sigurd had not counted the dog as a companion during his convalescence, he might only have been able to see the slathering maw, rather than the pup whose belly needed rubbed and who chased butterflies. 

"Now Fenris," Sigurd adopted a faux stern tone, holding a finger up to get the dog's attention – the dog's ears perked, and its head canted this way and that for a moment as Sigurd continued, "We really do need your assistance. It's very important, so I need you to sit like a good boy – there we go." 

Either by recognition of the command, or the understanding that the action preceded treats, Fenris plopped his backside onto the ground and stared at Sigurd, tongue lolling for a moment before he yipped excitedly. The sound was sharp, rumbling through Sigurd's chest, but he laughed off the odd sensation, and approached the animal from the side, slinging his leg over smoothly. With a gentle dig to his heels, Fenris stood, and for the briefest instant Sigurd had forgotten that he was in miniature, and felt quite the same as anytime he had mounted his steed for battle, hair blowing careless in the wind. 

He smiled down at Leonardo, and extended his hand to tug the young man up behind him. "There we are! Nothing to it – and so, we ride!" 

Most Valiant Steed || Sigurd & Leonardo

[sungbeam]

𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞.

wolf shifter!jeno x human!reader x vampire!jaemin

▷ yes, this is a twilight au

▷ word count: 1k only of this trash

a/n: i'm sorry, this is so cursed 🤧 i was in my writing class and we were doing parodies, and i came up with this CRINGE drabble/idea 🤡 it also switches povs like twice so that's cool 💀💀

The air around you froze, as if all of time was physically frozen from a gust of wind. You rubbed your bare arms in a poor attempt for warmth. A chill ran up your spine just as a presence filled the space behind you. You had come into the woods behind the school alone, a mistake you would do well not to make again. 

"Why did you follow me?"

There was a bout of silence that you feared to fill. Na Jaemin said, perhaps about 20 paces behind you, "To see what you know."

You swallowed, pulse pounding in your ears. "I know what you are, if that's what you're referring to."

Instead of acknowledging your statement, Jaemin crooned, "There's no need to be afraid, sweets." His tone was sweet, not like the dry sarcasm that you usually overheard from him in the hallways. You felt him come closer, the leaves on the forest floor crunching beneath his heavy soles. 

"I know what you are," you repeated. Even if you tried to force some kind of confidence into your voice, the words came out quiet. 

And then you felt the warmth of your breath on the nape of your neck, barely reeling in your gasp. "Then say it," he prompted gently. "Go on, darling. Say it aloud."

"You're a vampire."

The world seemed to unfreeze as soon as the words left your tongue, as if the secret had put pressure on a pause button and was suddenly lifted. At that instant, you both perked up at the sound of someone calling your name. Jaemin groaned under his breath, already knowing who it was—scented him. 

"YN! Yn, where are you?"

Recognition lit your features. "Jeno?"

As you bounded off in the direction of Jeno's voice, Jaemin lingered behind, so you didn't hear him mutter "Damn dog" under his breath before following after you. He could hardly wait to interact with the Alpha pup after so long… but if he knew you? Jaemin did little to suppress his smirk. This should be fun. 

He found you and Lee Jeno in a clearing, the latter of which was frantically searching your body for injury while you assured him that you were completely fine. Jeno froze abruptly, trailing his eyes all the way up to Jaemin's smug face. 

A low growl erupted from Jeno's throat. Jaemin frowned at how you jerked in surprise and scanned the surrounding forest for stray wolves; he could scent your fear. The way that Jeno had scared you like that? That didn't sit well with Jaemin, and Jeno was so focused on Jaemin's presence that he didn't even notice what he'd done. You poor thing, you didn't even know the predators were right in front of you. 

"Demon," Jeno snarled. 

Jaemin smiled tightly. "Mutt." He mocked a bow. "What do I owe the distinct displeasure of seeing you on this fine morning, Alpha?"

If Jaemin wasn't so worried about you (read: if he didn't care about you so damn much), Jaemin would have found your confusion amusing. 

Jeno stepped in front of you, placing his body directly between you and Jaemin. Jaemin stiffened; the monster inside of him did not like this—at all. "Stay the hell away from her."

"Don't be such an alphahole, Jen," Jaemin crooned. This time, his crooning was less sweet, and tinted with a venomous bite. He feigned boredom, examining his meticulously manicured fingernails. "Darling can make decisions for herself—" his gaze shot to you expectedly, "—can't you, sweets?"

You were so confused, but you were almost compelled to believe the feeling of safety radiating from Jaemin. Come with me, it seemed to purr, you'll be safe with me. "I just want answers," you said lowly. 

The tension was palpable; hostility rolled off of both men in waves, like watching heat radiate from a roasted sidewalk. Jeno clenched his jaw and fists. "Don't talk to her. And don't call her that."

Jaemin blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry. Should I call her 'your mate' instead?"

What the hell—

"Shut up." A vein pulsed from Jeno's muscled neck, and you had a sudden, itching feeling that you knew what was about to happen. You had seen it happen countless times before: Jeno getting angry, Jeno beating someone to a pulp, Jeno coming to you afterwards to patch himself up. You couldn't stand the sight; you were beyond sick of seeing him covered in someone else's blood, knuckles bruised to the bone. 

"Oh? Touchy subject… okay," Jaemin taunted with a laugh, clearly amused by the situation. "Well let me put it this way, Fur-For-Brains, at least I don't hide what I really am." Jaemin's smile as he said this was armed with teeth—fangs that peered out from his mouth before they disappeared. Like a reminder of the threat he posed. 

"Jeno." You grabbed his bicep, yanking him backward, too afraid of what might occur if you let go. "You cannot get into another fight."

Instead, Jeno said to you, "Yn-ie, please go back to campus. I'll meet you there."

The blood drained from your face. "Jeno, no! You said—"

"Yn," voice hardened, "go."

Jaemin chuckled humorlessly, the sound grating on Jeno's nerves. "What's the matter, pup? Don't want her to watch me wipe the floor with you?"

"Lee Jeno, don't listen to him; he's provoking you. You promised me you wouldn't!" You snarled at him, forcing Jeno to turn around and look you in the eyes. "Tell me you won't—swear to me you won't, damn it."

Jeno's eyes had gone wide, dilated so far you could hardly see the whites. Your body shook, from fear, anger or adrenaline, you did not know. But as soon as he connected gazes with you, his eyes slowly returned to normal, as if shaking himself from a daze. He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Yn."

You shook your head. You knew there was nothing you could do at this point, nothing to change his mind. "No—no, you're not."

As he tried to reach for you, and you backed away. He winced while the wolf inside him whimpered. 

"Don't come crawling back to me to patch you up," you spat at him, then turned your back to both creatures. You couldn't care less anymore about what happened. No, you didn't want to care, but you did. 

As soon as both of the males scented that you were far enough away, they sized each other up. Jeno, hyped on pure fury; Jaemin running on pride. Both had a reputation to uphold with you at the center. 

"Must hurt," Jaemin said blandly. Though toneless, he knew exactly what buttons he pushed on the rejected Alpha. 

Jeno gritted his teeth. He couldn't get your disappointment, Jaemin's scent on your body, out of his head. "Shut the fuck up, bloodsucker." 

Then they launched at each other: fangs and claws gnashing. This would not end well for either of them.

nct m.list

read "stay away from him" out now!

read the follow-up oneshot "i will always tell you the truth"

read the most recent drabble "doesn't he own a shirt?"

[nctsworld]

spin me right ‘round

✩‌ johnny ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ record store owner!johnny | fluff | smut | 4k‌ ‌

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ buying from the local records shop leads you to eventually bed the hot owner on the night of your first date.   WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (in the second half), oral s*x (f and m receiving), f*ngering, johnny has a big d*ck and f*cks you hard???, office s*x in the epilogue (kind of) RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ @sehunniepot​ (thought you might be interested in this nikki 👀) 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit! 

Opening the store’s door, the ringing of the bell above you signals your entrance. 

You moved into the neighbourhood recently and since someone gifted you a record player for your last birthday, you thought it’d be a quaint idea to drop by the local records shop that you always pass by on your way home.  

Rows and rows of vinyl records, organized both alphabetically and by genre, welcome you with open arms, along with a faint musty smell, likely due to the faded, vintage records hanging between the posters on the cream walls. 

The outside of the store is misleading to its size; there’s enough space here for at least thirty people easily. However, besides you, it looks like there’s only one other customer in the shop.  

Although your surroundings captivate your senses, the striking blond man bent over the rock section in the middle of the shop is the true cynosure of your eyes. 

His long fingers flutter seamlessly over the records, seeming to be on a dedicated search to find one in particular. He towers high over the low stacks and oozes coolness with a thumb stuffed in his front pocket and donning a stylish green beanie atop his medium cut locks. 

Not to mention that his jeans tug perfectly over the curvature of his prominent ass, but you merely steal a glance or two at his backside as you stroll towards the pop section. 

Okay, maybe three glances.

With your back facing the man, several minutes pass as you rummage through the sea of mainstream music, ranging from recent to old, but all the while pleasing to your tastes.  

“See anything you like?” 

Your eyes meet the figure standing nearby with a hand on the edge of one of the stack dividers. His smooth voice matches his strong aura and his gorgeous face, which you’re now blessed to be viewing up-close. 

Your gaze pursues downward, soaking up his sturdy frame hidden behind his flattering clothes. Darting your eyes up his lengthy body back to his face, you lick your lips and swallow, in hopes to dampen the sudden dryness in your throat, and naturally raise the corners of your mouth.        

“Yeah—” You, you think in the back of your head and execute a nod, “—there are a few things.” 

He smiles endearingly towards the floor before glancing back up to you. You wonder if he can read your thoughts, or maybe it’s simply written all over your face.

Releasing his grip, he says, “Take all the time you need. If you need any assistance, let me know." 

Your eyebrows perk up in realization. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand over his beanie. “I’m the owner of the store.”

“Oh, wow,” you exclaim, jaw hanging slightly. “You’re so young, I wouldn’t think someone in their 20s would have their own store, especially one like this." 

A frown falls over his face, and in that moment, you knew you fucked up any chance you had with him.  

“Yeah, 26 to be exact,” he shrugs, tight-lipped, prior to the folding of his arms. His eyes become slits of bitterness. “Thanks for the ageism."

Immediately shaking your head at the misunderstanding, you stammer, “I didn't mean it like that—"

The owner’s expression melts in an instant and a warmness emanates from him once more. The knot in your chest loosens at the sight and relief waves over.  

“I'm just playing with you, don’t worry." 

He opens his mouth, about to continue, but his attention is interrupted by the ringing at the door, and you turn to see another customer over your shoulder. The attractive individual begins to stroll over, but still faces your direction, beaming. 

“Well, if you decide to get anything, you know where to find me, and I'll ring it up for you." 

With puffed cheeks, you nod and watch him greet the incoming patron. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind you, you shift toward the records again and browse for a little longer. 

Finally deciding on a few choices, you walk toward the front register and peer over at the beanied blond. In the classical section, he’s listening intently to the bumbling customer. Not wanting to disturb them, you lay the vinyls on the counter and thankfully find a pen and a stack of sticky notes upon it. 

After sticking the following note on the top vinyl cover, you head out of the store:

“Put these on hold for me?  I'll be back for them.  Thanks!  -Miss Ageist” 

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Judgmental."

A couple of days later, you drop by the store again and find the spirited owner at the front counter. Today, he’s channeling his inner grunge style, adorning a half-up, half-down ponytail and a loose white t-shirt over a tight, long black sleeve shirt. Is it possible for him to look even cuter than he did last time? 

“Sorry again for that,” you scrunch your nose at the memory. He grabs your records from beneath the counter and rings them through. “You just look so young to own a store.”

The blond airily laughs, “I'm gonna take that as a compliment." 

He spots you twisting your mouth to one side and nodding shyly. “It is." 

As you pay for the items, he gestures to your vinyls on the counter. “Good choices, by the way.”

“Are there bad ones?” From the pay pad, you glance up at him and he’s feigning a hurt look. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

You banter with a tilt of your head, “Isn't music subjective though?” 

“Not to me. I am the king of music taste." 

Both parties exchange laughter while you wait for the transaction to process. Once it finishes, he rips the receipt and places it into the bag with the records. 

“I mean, I do own a records store, so I think I should know." 

Flashing you his pearly whites, he hands the filled bag over to you. 

“Here you go, Miss Judgy Pants.” 

“Actually, you can call me—” You properly introduce yourself.

He leans back a little, straightening himself and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 

“I'm John, but you can call me Johnny." 

With a glimmer in your eye, you question, “Is Johnny exclusive to me, or does everyone else also call you Johnny?”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your straightforwardness. “I only let the pretty girls call me Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

The wink he gives is short-lived, but it’s enough to cause heat to blossom over your cheeks. You brush some hair behind your ear. 

“So, Johnny,” you enunciate, indulging in his name. “When does the store close?” 

You lift up your bag and cheekily add, “Gotta know when to break in to steal more vinyls." 

Johnny chuckles, and your heart bursts knowing you’re the reason behind it. Looking aside, his hand rubs the counter casually and you can’t help but stare at his large palm dominating the surface, along with his elongated fingers. Eyes blinking rapidly, you attempt to break the fantasy assembling in your brain—his hands are the guest stars alongside (and within) your body in the leading role. 

“I can close whenever I want to, but thanks for the heads up; I'll make sure to keep you away from the store,” he jokes.  

Catching your gaze, one of the sides of his mouth lifts. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly as you play with the handles of your dangling plastic bag, you reply, “Just wanted to know when the cute worker got off so I can potentially go on a date with him.” 

You scan around as if someone else is there in the empty store besides the two of you and point your thumb to one side, whispering teasingly, “Not you, but the other guy.” 

His tongue grazes against his bottom teeth, nodding understandingly with a deeper smirk. “The store closes at nine usually, but I can make an exception for him to get off earlier." 

Satisfied with Johnny’s answer, you bounce your head and make your way backwards toward the door.

“Sounds good, I'll be here at eight for him tomorrow night. Maybe I'll see you around then, too.” 

Granting him a wink of your own, you turn on your heels and leave. Intrigued, Johnny watches you disappear down the street through the store window. 

At 7:58 the next evening, you show up to the store. 

A customer is at the front counter finishing a purchase. As they pay for the products, the worker takes notice of you, smiling in recognition. You return the same, beaming back at him, and casually stride over to a random section to wait until they’re done. They make some small talk, so you delve in the opportunity to admire Johnny’s outfit for tonight—a tight black t-shirt that showcases his blatant pecs and a loose red plaid shirt overtop of it. 

When the customer exits, you make your way over to him as he puts on a light jacket. You lean your elbows onto the counter. 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Likewise," he jests back, snaking out of the counter to be in front of you. You glance at him, consuming the tall drink of water.   

Nodding to the door, you ask, “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” 

Johnny hums affirmatively and you follow behind him outside as he flips the open sign and locks up the store.

“So, where we heading off to?” 

Informing him of what you had in mind, the two of you decide to take his car to the downtown pier. Once there, both of you grab take-out and eat together at a bench table under the clear sky and dazzling stars. Conversation comes easy, making the night fly by fast. 

While talking with him, since his hair flows freely today, he sometimes shyly brushes some of it behind his ear. Although you’re listening intently, you also ponder how it’d be if you ran your fingers through his soft, silky locks. 

Dinner eases into dessert, with the two of you having ice cream side by side on the pier railing, looking out towards the twinkling water. By the time you’re halfway finished with your cone, you hint at not wanting to end the night just yet. Agreeing with your sentiments, Johnny makes the suggestion of going back to the store. 

After finishing the ice cream, you head together back to his car. The back of your hand brushes up against his. Taking a chance, you curl the tips of your fingers around his, half-holding his hand.  

Pressing up against his arm, you whisper, “Thought you said you gotta keep me away from the store."  

He peers down at the partial hand holding and the grin he gives you reaches his eyes. He gives your hand a small squeeze, ensuring the burgeoning attraction is mutual. 

He whispers in reply, “At least this way I can keep an eye on you." 

At the shop, Johnny locks the door from inside, in case of any wandering bodies, and blasts some upbeat, electronic music onto the store speakers. Intercepting your hand, he guides you to the back corner of the store and starts to dance with you. 

At first, your bodies are separate vessels, grooving to the beat of the music, but as the songs play on, you gradually gravitate towards each other. Soon enough, one hand settles comfortably upon your waist, the other on your hip, while yours are hooked around the nape of his neck. Before you know it, you merge together as one with parted lips, finally satisfying the tension in the air and within your bodies.       

The kissing is intense, electrically charged and sending currents to the tips of your fingers. Although you’re barely acquainted, you two kiss like you’ve been deprived of each other your whole life—every kiss and every touch quenching your thirst for one another.  

Wanting to change it up, you step over to an empty counter and hop onto it. Johnny steps in the space between your legs and his lips meet yours again. You cup his face, clutching onto his strong features, and occasionally run a hand through his hair to caress his head. 

You answer inwardly to your previous thoughts, confirming the silky texture of his hair, and your touch relishes in his golden locks.  

Suddenly, his mouth channels hunger onto your neck and the electric currents divert directly to your rising arousal. At the sensation, you rashly grind your hips into Johnny’s body, and he groans heavily in the crook of your neck.  

He mumbles into your skin, “Do you wanna take this further? My place is nearby." 

Sighing further into his embrace, you half-jokingly reply, “You know, I was really looking forward to getting fucked in a records store." 

He easily breathes, “We can do that next time, I promise." 

You snicker. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?” 

Tugging his shirt by the neckline, you force him to leave your neck and to greet your mouth instead. Pressing the top of your forehead against his, you match his gaze.   

“And what if I don't like you after tonight?”  

Something in you already knows that won’t be true, but you mischievously ask regardless. 

The simper Johnny flickers is enough to send another wave of bolts downward to your core. 

He peels his head away to bring it beside your ear. His thumb on your thigh may be gently rubbing you, but his following assurance is hoarse, absolutely drenched in pure lust.  

“Oh, you're definitely going to like me after all the things I do to you tonight." 

You barely have an opportunity to scan around his bachelor pad because his lips capture yours upon arrival. In his entryway, Johnny entangles with you, pushing you up against the wall. Impatiently, he drags you to his bedroom for the long-awaited spectacle of the night. 

After hurrying to turn on his bedside lamp, Johnny presses his weight against yours on his bed, embracing the full body contact. His lips continue to attack the terrain of your skin as he denudes you. You hum softly as he pursues south to your aching desire. Hoisting your backside and with his assistance, you’re finally completely bare. 

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Johnny pulls his top layers off, revealing a sculpted physique, the kind that artists muse and obsess over. You knew he was fit from how his clothes constantly hugged his body, but this was just insane. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, staring blankly. 

Chuckling, he does the same bashful gesture from dinner—tucking some of his hair behind his ear. The gentleness is a contrast that nicely compliments his Adonis qualities. His soft side is flipped onto its backside in a second as he begins to creep his way over between your legs, his eyes darkening. 

Upon resting on his chest, you didn’t notice it before, but there’s a hair tie on his wrist, which he uses to effortlessly make himself a quick ponytail. 

With anticipation, you sigh into the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh, making his way toward your pulsing sex. When his tongue issues the first swipe, you inhale sharply with fluttering eyes. Johnny isn’t in a rush, taking his sweet time to lazily lap up your slick and learning what incites you.           

Once he has a better understanding of your desire, he dives in and devours you whole. 

Realization sweeps over as to why he has to put his hair up.

In accompaniment to the painting of your folds, Johnny spreads them gently and ensures he dunks his tongue in your wetness. One of your hands drift away from the bed sheets to one of his snaked around your upper thigh, clutching onto his fingertips in reaction to the swift rotational swirls on your raw flesh.   

He draws back, lips lustrous from your nectar, and hastily replaces his mouth with two fingers.

Your half-lidded eyes shoot wide open. His long, thick fingers fill you greatly, scissor you so far in your sex, so much that you fear what his cock is like if this is how his digits feel. 

You’re overcome with bursts of pleasure. Further bursts ensue as Johnny tongues your clit alongside the fingering. Your throaty cries and the squelches of your pussy is melodious to his ears, better than playing his favourite vinyls on the best record player he owns. The lewdness of it all overwhelms his jean-bound arousal, so Johnny retaliates by grinding against the bed.  

After Johnny retreats, he stands by the foot of the bed and starts unbuckling his belt and pants. You crawl your way over, still panting and reeling from the rush of your high. As you reach him, he drags his pants and boxer-briefs towards the floor in one-go, freeing his unsurprising lengthy girth.    

On your knees, hunched over his cock, you chuckle in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair.” 

He watches in amusement as you examine his desire with delight, before taking it into your hand, pumping it languidly. “What is?” 

You peer up, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re hot, own a record store, really funny, and you’re packing. God really has his favourites.” 

Johnny’s about to respond, but his brain short-circuits momentarily at the pad of your thumb rubbing his precome over the tip of his blunt head. He cranes his neck back, exhaling a groan. 

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just-fuck—” 

You suck the words out of him. Literally. 

Your warm embrace encompasses his entirety, possessing a strong hold over him. Since you can’t possibly take him fully into your mouth, your fist solves your problem by stroking him by the base. Aiming to please, especially after his oral act from earlier, you slurp and bob your head mercilessly, disregarding the saliva leaking down the sides of your mouth. 

One of Johnny’s hands arranges your hair in a make-shift ponytail to get a clearer view of the obscene display. His hazy eyes skim over the gorgeous curves of your bent back and ass jutting high up in the air. His breathing turns heavier and he’s about to tug on your hair, motioning for you to slow down, but you thankfully come up for air just in time. 

The stately figure attacks your lips with urgency. The kiss is wet and messy from going down on one another, but it merely adds to the intensity. While lip-locked, he lowers you into his pillow once more, then stretches an arm out to his bedside stand to fish out a condom. 

He nimbly rolls on the cover, but is confused to find you back on your knees instead of laying on the bed. You grasp him by the wrist and press your fingers against his firm pecs, indicating to him to recline backward. In awe, he obediently obliges. 

Hovering over him, you suck in a breath as you line your sex up with his, cognizant that you need to acclimatize to his size. You steadily sit onto his length and when it finally reaches the end, you release a piercing groan at the deep sensation.

For a bit, you don’t move too much to get used to his great desire. In the meantime, your fingers wander over the chiseled flesh in front of you—his defined, veiny arms; his solid chest; and the valleys of his abs. 

Once you think it’s been enough, you transfer more weight onto your knees and slide on his cock with more vigor. You throw your head back in pleasure. 

On the other end, Johnny’s gaze wavers between the main action, your bouncing breasts, and your supple neck. He can’t see your face clearly, but he knows you must be enjoying this as much as him by the breathy moans that follow each thrust.    

When your legs start to tire, Johnny tries to hold you close and roll you over onto your backside. You both giggle at the unsuccessful attempt to keep himself still inside of you, but that’s an easy fix. Despite just having him within you, you gasp again at the penetration. Him being on top hits you at a different angle and you truly feel the length of his inches. 

Johnny reaches down to meet your lips. You brush your fingers over his pulled back hair as he consumes your existence. In addition to each passing drive of his body into yours, you also grip harder onto his hair in ecstasy, which leads to the unraveling of his long locks upon your face. The gold ocean of silkiness drowns your senses, the strands stroking your skin like extra caresses. 

Retreating back onto his knees and raking a hand through his tousled mane, his hands then attach to the flanks of your body and he pounds you breathless, leaving you heaving for air. 

In your dazed state, you desperately grab on to whatever you can—the sheets, his upper frame, his ass, anything. Throughout it all, your core contracts even tighter over the way his clavicle, tendons, and muscles protrude and flex like they’re about to break through his skin.  

At this point, you’re beyond delirious and definitely beyond gratified. You assume he’s about to finish when he decreases his pace and bends closer to you, but instead, he continues to still move inside of you.  

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” you gasp and grunt between his rough, buried thrusts. “How are you not close?” 

“I’m not ready to be done with you yet, beautiful,” Johnny rasps into your ear. You catch a glimpse of his cocked eyebrow and smirk. “Unless you can’t handle me?” 

Denying his accusation, you haul his cheeks to yours and kiss him fiercely.  

And with that, Johnny’s weight is on his knees again and he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, Johnny might’ve been right because it doesn’t take long for you to beg repeatedly for him to come.  

“So, what’s the verdict? Still like me after that?” 

Both individuals are still nude on the bed, but now covered by a blanket. Resting on his chest, you drum your fingers over his skin in thought (as if you need to even think about an answer besides the obvious). 

Pouting up at Johnny, you say, “I’ll only like you if you keep your promise on fucking me in the store next time.” 

“Of course.” He palms your cheek and inches forward, preparing to kiss you tenderly. 

“A gentleman never breaks his promise.”  

EPILOGUE 

One month later, the record store’s business has been growing, so Johnny decides to hire one of his friends, Mark, to be a part-time worker.

Which means that Johnny has more spare time to do other things... like taking you from behind in the back office over his desk. 

“Shit, fuck,” you grip harshly onto the edges of the worn-out wooden desk as he thrusts endlessly. Even after a month of dating, your pussy still isn’t fully accustomed to the size of his girth. You’re unsure if it ever will be. 

No matter, it always feels amazing. 

“Johnny, Johnny—” 

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice suddenly cuts in and calls from outside of the office door. You immediately bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up. “Someone’s asking me about a limited edition vinyl and I don’t know how to answer.” 

“Uhhh,” Johnny drones absentmindedly, yet jabs into you with more rigor. You bite down harder, but you can’t control the rising volume of your stifled moans. “Give me five minutes.” 

A silent beat passes. 

“Dude, are you fucking in the office again?!” the part-timer exclaims. You can practically see him shaking his head in disgust. “Ugh, I’ll give them the store’s card. Hurry up, though.”

As he walks away, you hear him faintly say, “Sometimes I think this is why you hired me...” 

Simultaneously, you both giggle heartily. Your lover pecks you lovingly on your shoulder prior to diving again into the wanton moment. 

In the end, Johnny actually spends ten more minutes with you. But he can afford the extra minutes—he is the owner of the shop, after all. 

[rek1s-headband]

Hello may i request reki angst taking place after episode 7 with a fluff ending?

➯ A/N: Thank you for the request! I’m sure after episode 7 we all need a little bit of Reki comfort. Let’s all give this boy some much needed loving:)

A question for those of you who watched the recent episode: how are we feeling?

➯ Character: Reki Kyan x Reader

➯ Warnings: Shouting, implications of a panic attack

➯Word count:1.7K

“Someone who deserves you”

You could feel yourself struggling to keep your balance on your skateboard, the rain beating down on your figure. Reki hasn’t been answering any of your texts, and had been very distant with you in school, so you’d decided to ride up to his house to see what was wrong. Any time you asked him if he was alright in school, any time you’d beg him to tell you what was making him look so upset, he’d simply ruffle your hair and tell you not to worry your pretty little head about it, that there was nothing wrong. You were his s/o, surely he’d tell you if something was wrong? You’d asked Langa if he knew what was up with Reki, and he’d simply shrug, telling you reki had been kind of off with him as well.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you hit a stray pebble, sending you flying over your board and hitting the floor with a thud. You heard your board roll away, heard someone stop it and pick it up. Looking up, you saw none other than Langa Hasegawa himself walking over to you. He looked concerned, but as he got closer to you, he was wearing what could only be described as a look of pure despair. He put your board down beside you, tears quickly collecting around his eyes.

You were off the floor in an instant, pulling him into your chest, swaying the two of you as langa quietly sobbed into your shoulder. You could feel your hoodie begin to get soaked with rain and his tears, holding him impossibly tighter and playing with his hair in an attempt to calm him down. When his shoulders stopped shaking, you pulled his head out of your shoulder, holding his face in your hands and using your thumbs to swipe away his tears that were beginning to gather again.

“Langa,” you say it gently, but there’s a firmness in your voice that holds enough importance for him to hold in his third hiccup within a minute. “What happened?” The question was barely out of your mouth before his grip on your arms tightened, and he began talking 90 miles a minute.

“It’s Reki, he—I went to his house because he seemed off today and I wanted to know what was wrong, but he wasn’t there so I waited until he came home, but he didn’t show up for ages and I thought maybe he was busy but then it started raining and he came back and he looked so sad, I just wanted to figure out was wrong, but he started shouting a me, saying I was gonna break our promise to not skate against Adam. And I know I told him I wouldn’t skate against him, but its just so exciting and I know I need to beat him if I’m gonna get better, y/n, I need to. But Reki doesnt see that, he just thinks I’m gonn get hurt and-“ you placed a careful hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

“Langa,” you repeated yourself, urgency prevalent in your voice this time. “Where is Reki now?”

“At his house. His mom thought he was with me, can you believe that? He wouldn’t tell me where he was, though. He looked all roughed up and hurt, I just wanted to make sure he was-“ once again, poor Langa’s rambling was cut off, this time by you getting on your skateboard and riding off to Reki’s house. You could tell both boys were clearly hurting, but Reki was all that seemed to fill your mind as you sped down the road to his house. As you began to approach his house, you could make out a small figure leaning against the wall, head in his hands, and soaking wet. Why wasn’t he inside? You saw his head perk up a bit when you got off your skateboard, only to hide his face when he realised it was you, tears also streaming down his face. You knew something was wrong, so why the hell did he try and keep it from you?

Reki didn’t have much time to compose himself or try to explain what was going on before you were marching up to him and flinging your arms around his neck. He stumbled back slightly from the impact, tensing up a bit, before finally letting go and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You kept him there for a little bit, before he was slowly pushing you off him, not daring to look you in the eyes. You looked him over, seeing his multiple bruises and rips in his clothing. For once it was him who couldn’t seem to get a word out, and you who couldn’t seem to stop talking.

“What the hell was that? Why did I run into Langa on my way here, and why was he so upset? Why are you so upset? What’s been going on the past coupe of days, you’ve seemed so sad, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, but you’ve been so distant and you keep telling me you’re okay, when you’re clearly not okay, so why the hell would you keep it from me? And your clothes, did you fall? Why would you...Reki?” Your questions slowly faded out as you watched Reki slump against the wall, refusing to say a word or look you in the eyes. You got closer to him, a quiet “Reki..?” passing your lips. As you got closer, you heard how quickly he was breathing, heard him quietly repeating “I’m sorry” over and over. You placed your hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. “Hey, Reki, look at me. Its okay. It’s me. I’m not mad at you, I could never be mad at you, no one is.” You could feel his breathing slow down a bit, but he didn’t stop shaking. “Please, talk to me.”

He stood up straighter, taking one of your hands in his, looking away from you once again. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” When you gave him a look of curiosity and concern, he let out a shaky breath, continuing to speak. “I didn’t mean to worry you, I just—I didn’t want to hold you back, any of you. Maybe,” he looked at you for the first time in what felt like forever, “maybe you’d be better of if we weren’t together.” He gave you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen as you felt your heart fall into your stomach. “You should find someone who can keep up with you. Someone who deserves you”

Oh.

So that’s what it was....

“Reki....” you pulled his chin up to look at you, tears pooling in both of your eyes at this point. “Is that how you really feel?” You thought he was having a hard time after Langa had gotten better at skateboarding, but any time you questioned him he simply perked up, claiming he was delighted with Langa’s “newfound fame.” But now you were certain of it. “You know we’d never, ever leave you behind, right? We love you, all of us do!” You stopped to wipe a tear away from his face, feeling his shuddering breath on your face.

“It’s just that,” he pulled away from your hold, pulling his arms in around himself. He took a step or two back, tilting his head back to look up into the sky, rain pouring onto his face. “It was me who started skating first, he’s barely even started! And now he’s beaten two of the top competitors, and he wants to go against the founder of the whole thing? It’s not fair, it was my thing, and now he’s got all the recognition! I dont even care that he’s gotten good, I couldn’t be happier. I just dont want this to all get to his head and leave me! Or worse,” he made his way back over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders, “what if he gets hurt, and he quits skateboarding and I’m alone again? I can’t do it again, y/n, I cant lose another friend.” He collapsed into your arms, and you could feel him begin to cry again. For someone who was always such a ball of enthusiasm, this was heartbreaking to watch unfold. You held him close to you, pushing your hands through his sopping wet hair, making a mental note to force him to take a warm bath later.

You began to trace patterns on his back as you felt him calm down a little, poking his head out from where it was hiding. “There’s no one in this world I’d rather be with than you, Reki, so you can cut the ‘someone who deserves you’ shit. I’m yours, and you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not” you gave him a soft smile as he began to wrap you in an embrace, the persistent rain still beating down on the pair of you. He placed his hands on your hips, looking down on you with what could only be described as a look of pure adoration.

“What the hell did I do to deserve someone like you”, he gave you a soft smile, before leaning down to give you a desperate, passionate kiss. You reciprocated immediately, running your hands through his hair once again. You stayed like that for a while, pressing long, open mouthed kisses to each other’s lips. You felt him let out a quiet sigh, pulling you even closer to him and gripping onto the back of your hoodie. When you finally pulled away, he kept his hands on your waist, yours still playing with the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. He looked down at you, a dopey grin plastered on his face.

“I’m not going anywhere, Reki Kyan. None of us are. You’ll never be alone as long as we’re by your side.” You kept your face close to his, your breath mingling in the middle. You pressed one last kiss to his forehead, pulling away from him. “Now lets get out of the rain, you’re gonna get sick.” He followed you down the path to his house like a puppy, a fond smile never leaving his face. “And you better talk to Langa as soon as you get out of that damn shower, I’ve never seen that guy look worse than he did than he did leaving your house.”

“Shit”

[serpent-ofthe-void]

I often wonder what type of goth you identify yourself with? You seem to be a corporate goth to me.

(Hi uhhh quick Mun note: I’m adding a treat in here specifically mentioning something from your blog, as an apology for making you wait so long for this answer OTL)

Dark perks up from his desk the very instant he senses a presence in his void. Subtle as he wasn’t with the body language, the demon’s movement still has an uncanny sort of precision about it. He takes the question in with- what should be, by mortal perceptions, an enthused attentiveness. On the monochrome man, however, it simply appears as unbridled scrutiny, like he’s studying his poor inquirer under a magnifying glass. He does finally soften it a bit with a smooth smile, though, as he steps around to lean his lower back on the front of the desk in a gesture of reception.

“Welcome to my humble void. Ah, and what an engaging question you have me pondering, lovely.’”The demon makes a little performance of his mull, scratching a little at his head in contemplation, before he continues on to the answer.

“You’re right, in a way, but in another you’ll find I’m quite the other side of the coin. You see, I have a knack for the compound, and the contradictory, my dear. Goth fashion is where you’re correct. I do conduct myself, in manners and dress, as a proper business man, yet I am always drawn to the- often dramatic, appeal of black and white fabric with silver or crimson accents. Oh, and I don’t like to ruin the fun, so you may let this stay just between us, since it’s related to your question, but the eyes thing? Yeah, that’s just a ….naturally occurring coincidence.

Anywho~ Goth philosophy however, is a different story. I’m far more of a- I’ll call it, Vampiric Romantic. Maybe I just desperately want to see it in myself, who knows. Whatever the case: I just can’t help but be engrossed in the broken-is-beauty principles of romantic goth subculture. I find such comfort and inspiration in this… adoration of the unhealed, and the perpetually mourning. Ugh, and the expressions of these things! The books, paintings, and so on! My word, they’re just so beautiful, I get short of bre-“

Suddenly, Darkiplier cuts himself off, and stares for a moment. A bright glint of recognition lights up his features. He snaps his fingers, and then points directly at his asker.

“Ah! Poetry too! I’ve seen some of your work. It’s wonderful! …Oh look at me what am I doing. Forgive me, I do get carried away sometimes..” After clearing his throat, and adjusting his tie, Dark swiftly drops his hands back to the desk. Then, he … simply carries on with confidence, like he didn’t just rudely point. Whoops.

“Returning to the rest of my Goth philosophy: while I am no human being, I’m not actually a vampire either, but I do share one extremely similar characteristic with each. I’m no stranger to the human-like desire to allow those utterly charming creatures to sink their fangs into my neck, and I do technically have fangs of my own, but mine aren’t effective in that sort of “feeding,” capacity. That doesn’t mean I won’t taste blood for myself by other means, though.

The reason I called myself vampiric is: like the vampire, I have an insatiable bloodlust, but of course I’m still not one, so unlike the vampire, I can’t just taste blood and be done with it. I need to feel it. To watch it spatter, run, pool, and settle into stains. I have to know it’s drained, and has left a hollow husk of what used to be.. alive.. behind. And I have to be the cause of all the above. Then, and only then, am I satisfied. Until another… “craving,” comes along, of course.”

The more he explains this … “vampiric philosophy,” of his, the more little crackles sound at Dark’s sides. What were typical- except for the monochrome of course, human-like hands are now sharp claws and an uncanny black marking of sorts creeping up blanched knuckles. The demon’s aura begins to distort, as his passionate little smile morphs into something…. unnaturally sinister. He seems to recognize it as well, because he pushes off his desk, and returns to his seat, just before his claws can do any real damage to the wood.

“Oh, and it’s beautiful too. I’ve made magnificent masterpieces, you know! It’s such a shame they aren’t the type that can be admired in a gallery. Oh well, I’ll just have to keep the memories alllll to myself.~ Hah! Ahhahahah! Silly me, I’ve rambled on and on, haven’t I? I do hope I at least answered your question, lovely!”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Drop off Point | SPN Brothers

Warnings; language, anger, arguing

There was no place like home, but the thing was, that you didn’t have one. Each day, you went from motel room to motel room, sometimes you would even sleep in the back of the impala, whist your brothers sat in the front, somehow gaining rest in those uncomfortable, upright positions.

Dad was gone, and left you primarily in Dean’s custody, and with having Sam back, he managed to get your brother to cut you some slack. Dean was a wreck without John, he was desperate to discover your father’s whereabouts, and his decisions made you feel as though you were not as desperate to find where he had gone.

Being a Winchester came with plenty of perks, you got to see so many places in a short span of time, it made it feel as though the world was underneath your fingertip. However, having the attributes of being a teenager, and a girl, didn’t mix well with your suggestions or desires to hunt for the parent that had raised you.

And that left you here, cruising in the backseat of Dean’s beloved vehicle, taking the turns to reach Bobby’s. The elder of your brother had said he needed to stock up on supplies, such as dead man’s blood and so on, in case he picked up on any monsters on his journey.

But the travel was not just his, you and Sam were there too. He had even gone to nab Samuel from his escape, and drag him into the putridness of this life once more, all for the man that spawned you all.

“Hey kid.” Bobby stepped down from his porch, his shoes crinkling upon the gravel. He greeted the boys with hugs, and a set smile occupied his face as he looked at you, it almost screamed relief. “I got everything you boys need, come on.”

The lot of you trailed after the elder hunter, who adjusted his baseball cap as he escorted the three of you into the main room, the devil’s trap brandishing the floor, and scurried piles of books taking up the rest of the space.

“Cool, you got the good stuff.” Dean clapped his hands together as he dug through the small arsenal, dragging out a small blade.

“That there was smelted with dead man’s blood, it’ll murder those suckers straight away.” Bobby spoke, watching as Dean pocketed some items. Sam dropped a bag on the floor, a guilty, disobedient dog expression clouding his face.

It wasn’t any bag, it belonged to you. The satchel contained a few articles of clothing that were clean and a couple of books that you had nabbed from libraries that you had passed through. “Why’d you bring that in?” You asked suspiciously, having an inkling of a feeling as to the reason.

“Sorry.” Sam muttered, he had truly missed you whilst he had been away, and he hated the idea of being subdued into saying goodbye. But this wasn’t his complete choice, your other sibling had entirely taken control of the decision.

“You’re staying here (Y/N/N), at least until we find dad.” Dean admitted, coming to walk closer to you to strangle you in an embrace, however, you were keen to take a step back, denying his request.

“This is ridiculous.” You scoffed, face red from hurt and anger. He had no right to swerve you from the path that you were hellbent on, it was not up to him. “I want to go with you!”

Perhaps it was a peculiar ambition, but in this life, family was everything. It was the code that you had been raised to, and you’d be damned if you were to insult it by giving it nothing but disregard. If it were you that were missing, everyone would be searching, Dean would send everyone out to enquire and look, no matter their gender or age.

And just because you were his sister, he thought that he could put his foot down. It never changed, he was continuously overprotective, it felt as though you were consistently travelling in a cage, a child lock on in the back seats of Baby, rather than being giving a sense of free will. Instead there was no freedom, only constricting bars that kept you in the line of sight and knowledge of your brothers.

“Well too bad sweetheart, you’re staying put here under Bobby’s supervision.” He retorted sufficiently pressing the sole of his shoe upon the wooden flooring on this matter. Dean wised not to argue, but it was where his conspiring opinion ended up taking the pair of you, Bobby scratched his head agitatedly, understanding the reasons for Dean’s red anger, however it was inevitable that one day, you’d be old enough to make your own decisions, and no doubt you would go head first into these dangerous situations. It was how he could tell how related you were to your brothers, even if you had a different mother from the infamous sons of John Winchester.

“Screw you Dean! You’re supposed to be the one looking after me, and here you are, loading me off to someone else. I hate you so much right now.” The words couldn’t be restrained, they tumbled out, and currently you couldn’t care less. Anger was taking the driver’s seat, and it was veering into a crash, one that Sam could see without his ‘psychic’ abilities.

“Don’t say that (Y/N).” Another order, how Dean like. It was such a typical trait that he reverberated from his chest, as though he was constantly the one in charge. The way he bossed people about was far too familiar, and it repulsed you. He was acting as another man in your life, the one that dragged the lot of you around like dogs, pulling on the leashes to keep you all in line.

“You’re not dad, so stop trying to be him!” Dean could only freeze upon receiving your words, as you heavily breathed, wound up from the spitting of conflicting interests. Another instant spewing of hurtful comments were attempting to be catapulted from the void of your mouth, but Sam hissed as he came to stand in front of you, clearly disappointed in your behaviour.

“You know (Y/N), I told Dean that he should give you a chance, although you deserve a life better than we got. Not because it could raise our chances and hopes of finding dad, but because it was what you wanted. But I’ve changed my mind, and I think you should stay here a while, until you are grown up enough to be on the road with us.”

His scolding made you bow your head down, almost ashamed of yourself, before you glanced at the trio of men in the room one last time, grabbing your man and escalating upstairs to a spare room. Sam gulped, knowing that he had silenced the poison in the blood you all shared, however he could only hope that you would understand why he was so inclined to get involved.

It caused him pain, knowing that you, his baby sister wanted to be neck deep in this chaotic life, when he had wanted out. The logic of it didn’t feel right, it only showed as evidence that you too had been brought up loved, yet in a toxic childhood. The inclination, the loyalty you had for fighting was a flaw, it was not something that hunters wanted to do, but instead rather something that they had to.

Sam sighed as he put the phone down in his lap, Dean was in the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched. “No answer?” He asked expectedly, to which the eldest received an affirmative nod. It was frustrating to know that this all uprose from them wanting to keep her safe.

“Bobby said that she’s okay.” Sam spoke in the music of the air con. “She’s actually getting pretty good at combat, hell it’s been six months. Her head is on straight, she knows that she’s good at what she’s doing. But-“

“She still refuses to speak to us.” Dean completed his sentence, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. His knuckles grew white from the pressure he held onto the remote with, his tongue clicking as he pushed away the guilt. That was only permitted recognition when he was alone, he’d never admit to anyone that he may have made a bad decision, all because his sister was alive and breathing, (Y/N) was okay, even if she refused contact with them.

“We should see her Dean.” Sam stated. He had wanted to for so long, he hated how absent the backseat was, and how there seemed to be a lack of the scent of female deodorant.

“Next stop, Bobby’s.”

[wanderinginksplot]

Warriors in Red Armor

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Chapter Three

Warning: This chapter features a highly sanitized and idealized version of a protest. A protest that would take place in a galaxy far, far away with a functional government and officers held to an incredibly high standard. In short, this is not meant to be a reflection in any way, shape, or form of any of the protests that have taken place over the last few years, especially in regards to racial prejudice in the United States. If you think this could be a trigger for you, please skip this chapter and send me a message! I would be thrilled to summarize the chapter's contents for you.

---

Fox I

"These men fight and die for the sake of a Republic that cares nothing for them!"

Fox winced, dialing down the volume on the channel that connected the audio intake to the interior of his helmet. Whoever had given that woman a device to amplify her voice had never been forced to listen to how loud she was all on her own.

"They were bred to fight in wars they did not create, used to protect a society from which they do not benefit, and given no chance to choose a different life!"

A different life. Fox didn't even know what he would do if he wasn't a soldier. Not that it had ever mattered. The woman had gotten that right, at least: the troopers had been bred for ultimate reflexes and battle efficiency. Using them in any other capacity would be a waste.

"They have no rights, receive no recognition, and barely earn a paycheck!"

"Hey, Commander," a trooper's voice said in his ear. Fox's HUD identified the speaker as Jek.

"What is it, Jek?" Fox asked, on instant alert and scanning the crowd with increased fervor.

"Do you think we could get a pay raise out of this?"

Fox bit back an irritated sigh. It wasn't Jek's fault that he had never experienced a riot. He didn't know the devastating speed at which crowds could turn, that you couldn't take your eyes off them for a moment. He didn't know how dangerous people like Nora Czajak could be.

"Keep your focus, trooper," he admonished. "If this crowd gets out of control, you won't deserve a pay raise anyway."

"Yes, sir," Jek agreed, sounding disappointed.

"We must stand for sake of these men who are forbidden to stand," Czajak was lecturing. "We must speak for them, because their voices have been ignored. Come, my fellow Coruscanti citizens! Lend your legs, lend your voice, lend your time! Help us show the Galactic Senate that we will not rest until these men have received all they deserve!"

"Someone must have kriffed up hard if listening to this is what we deserve," Rhys complained through the inter-HUD comm system.

It was only the second complaint, but that was two too many in Fox's opinion. With a short motion of his eyes, Fox had activated the communications system that connected all trooper helmets. It allowed him to make a sweeping announcement.

"Stay on alert, men," Fox ordered. "They have permission to march for another twenty minutes before we can break this whole thing up. Keep your seals tight."

But it was not to be. Groups of civilians thronged to the demonstration, convinced by Czajak's passionate speech to join the Clone Rights cause. At the exact time Clone Rights was to end their march, the Coruscant Guard stepped up to urge civilians off the street. It didn't matter - Czajak took up her amplifier once more.

"See, citizens? Do you see how the troopers are forced to work counter to their own interests?" Czajak demanded. "We march on their behalf, but their commanding officers order them to silence our voices! They have no choice but to obey."

The murmur of agreement passing through the crowd put tension thrumming through Fox's shoulders. If this demonstration was going to get ugly, it would be now.

"No thinking, feeling being should have their choices removed!" Czajak cried through the amplifier. "No being should be forced to fight for those who would keep him enslaved!"

If given the chance, Fox could have guessed the first act of violence down to the second it happened.

By the time the cry of, "Don't push me!" rang through the crowd, he was well on his way to Czajak.

Before she could lift her amplifier again - to do what, he didn't stop to ask - Fox had taken it from her hand. "Sorry ma'am. I'm placing you in custody."

"Under what charges?" she asked, fixing him with an impish grin that made no sense under the circumstances.

Fox's own reaction made even less sense: the sight of that little mischievous smile set his blood boiling. He had experienced far more disrespect from civilians in the past. There was no reason she should have any effect on him at all.

Still, he had to take a deep breath before he could answer her. "Violating the terms of a special demonstration permit, inciting a riot, disturbing the peace… should I go on?"

"Why not?" Czajak asked. "You seem to be enjoying yourself."

Fox shook his head and held up a pair of regulation magnetic binders. "Are you planning to resist arrest?"

She didn't answer him immediately, instead staring into the darkness of his visor in a way that made Fox feel painfully exposed. Czajak was calm and steady while he - Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard - was off-balance. Somehow, she had gotten him at a disadvantage. Discomfited at the idea, Fox shook the cuffs at her in a rude gesture. "Well?"

"Hold on, I'm trying to decide if resisting arrest would be working for or against my cause," she pondered, still wearing a hint of her ridiculous grin. At last, she sighed and presented her wrists. "I'll go with you."

If Fox put the binders on her wrists a bit more aggressively than necessary, no one dared to ask him why.

Somehow, he ended up being the one to transport Czajak back to the Coruscant Guard precinct - mostly because the other men were busy escorting rioters to the precinct or being looked over by Ink, the Guard's medic.

After he had gotten Czajak in his transport, Fox slid into the front seat and began preparing to pilot it. She watched with interest while he removed his helmet, but it was illegal to drive with one on, so he persevered. Besides, there would be nothing of interest for her under his helmet. Fox kept his appearance strictly within grooming guidelines. His hair was regulation, his face was clean-shaven, and his tattoos were neatly hidden beneath his body glove.

He had glanced at her in the rear-facing mirror of his transport and resolved not to do so again. Still, his determination not to speak to her lasted until she spoke exactly once.

"So you don't see your required enforcement of my demonstration as a conflict of interest?" she asked conversationally despite having stared at him in silence for the first few minutes of their trip. "You don't think it's a violation of your rights? Not that you get many of those…"

"I have rights," Fox ground out before he could stop himself. "You and your group don't help any of us. You just make our lives more difficult."

"But imagine if you weren't being forced into life as a soldier," Czajak pressed. "You and your brothers could do anything you choose to do, live in the way that best pleases you."

"And we would choose to fight and die for the Republic," Fox answered stoically.

Czajak didn't answer immediately. Fox glanced into the mirror to find her staring at him in unsettled silence. When she finally found her voice, she said, "Surely you can't be so arrogant to think that all your brothers feel the same way."

"We're clones. We look the same, act the same, fight the same, and think the same," he said with a conviction he didn't feel. "Being soldiers is what we're good at, what we were made to do. It's in our genes."

Even in his peripheral vision, he could see her perk up slightly at that. "Your genes? Your genes were donated by a man who was a bounty hunter - one of the best the galaxy has ever seen. If every person sharing your genetic profile was made to be a soldier, how did he end up as a bounty hunter?"

It was a good point, Fox resentfully admitted to himself. Czajak was excellent at debate and he found himself drawn into the argument.

"Lack of opportunity," he said, mostly to give himself time to think.

"So, if given the opportunity, you believe Jango Fett would have left a successful bounty-hunting career to be a soldier fighting for the Republic?" She shook her head. "That seems unlikely, to say the least. He was a man who valued freedom and choice."

"Jango Fett was a traitor to the Republic," Fox argued. "He died at the hands of a Jedi because he was in league with the Separatists."

"Are you a traitor to the Republic?" Czajak asked, voice gentle despite the horrendous accusation she was tossing in his direction.

"Of course not!"

"Then genes don't determine personality, preferences, or choices. Your brothers may not all like the life of a soldier, regardless of how you enjoy it." With that, Czajak settled back against the seat and stared peacefully out of the transparisteel window, as if she hadn't turned Fox's idea of the world on its head.

---

Hound III

Public relations assignments were a nightmare for most troopers. Being forced to parade in front of civilians was hard enough, but the GAR wanted their troopers to do the impossible. They had to toe the line between being friendly and non-intimidating, but still remind citizens that the troopers were more than enough to defend the Triple Zero against threats.

Hound was one of the rare troopers who didn't mind PR duty - actually, he enjoyed it. Not only did it play into his love of crowds and people, but he got to spend some time showing off his best friend.

"Now, Grizzer, can you show these good people some tricks?" Hound asked, giving the massiff a subtle signal to go into alert mode.

"Sit." Grizzer sat. "Smile." Grizzer bared his fearsome teeth. "Speak." Grizzer let out a loud, yelping bark. "Good boy!"

Grizzer could not sit still as the crowd applauded his good work. The muscular massiff's body quivered as Grizzer did his best to wag his whole being in excitement.

Non-threatening image: check, Hound thought with some amusement. The sea of younglings surrounding them had wriggled closer to the pair. Okay, so they were here for Grizzer, but Hound received some reflected fame because he got to be friends with the massiff.

"Do any of you have questions for me?" Hound asked, when he saw that their time was almost over.

A young Rodian boy raised his hand and immediately told Hound, "My mama said that massiffs eat bad children who don't listen to their parents. Does Grizzer eat bad children?"

Hound chuckled a bit. This was a common question at PR events. At first, he hadn't been sure how to answer the question, not wanting to accidentally encourage children to disobey their parents. He had ended up taking the problem to his fellow Coruscant Guardsmen and they had come up with a good solution.

Hound leaned down as if he were telling the younglings a secret and all of them wiggled closer as well. Meeting the wide, galaxy-mirroring eyes of the Rodian boy, Hound said, "Grizzer doesn't really like to eat children, but that's a secret. Don't tell your parents! Do you know what he does like to eat?"

The suggestions were wild and varied, but Hound grinned wider. "All of those are right! Grizzer will eat just about anything, even if it isn't good for him. The other night, he stole my dinner…"

And, with that, they had reached the 'Grizzer stealing food' part of the event. It was always an audience favorite, especially with younglings. Hound had vague thoughts about writing a series for young audiences about the massiff's antics. However, he was broken from his reverie by Fang, another ARF trooper, pointing at his chrono.

"That's it for today, everyone! Grizzer and I have to go back to work now."

The children - and some of the adults - made sounds of disappointment while Grizzer whined and gave Hound his most pleading expression.

"Sorry, buddy," Hound apologized to Grizzer. "You know we can't stay here all day."

"Talking to the massiff again, Hound?" Fang asked with a laugh as he approached the pair.

"That's how you become the best," Hound said, shrugging in false modesty.

He was proud of his reputation as the best ARF trooper in the GAR. It had been in every performance review he had gotten in the past few years: If there is a question about massiffs or their training, it goes immediately to Sergeant Hound. He was widely considered the ultimate authority on the subject of massiffs. Even some of the nat-born officers came to ask his advice.

In fact, Fang was at the PR event to shadow Hound. Coruscant wasn't as dangerous as some other assignments, but there was still risk in the job. There was a chance that Hound would meet an unpleasant end any day. It was best to have another qualified ARF ready to take over his work if that happened.

Grizzer, who had been idly watching the crowd with the uncaring nature that only an off-duty massiff should display, brought himself to attention. Early in their partnership, Hound had learned that the massiff had an uncanny knack for spotting trouble. Grizzer's instincts were almost never wrong.

Sure enough, a human woman stumbled out of the crowd when Hound glanced over. The two made eye contact for a moment before her gaze snapped to Grizzer, standing with one leg propped on Hound's foot. Immediate terror crossed her face and she tried to scurry back into the crowd, but she ran into a passing Devaronian. She bounced backward, falling hard on the duracrete ground with a noise that didn't sound entirely like flesh hitting a solid surface.

"Miss?" Hound asked, starting forward with a worried Grizzer hot on his heels. "Are you okay?"

The woman turned to face them, swiping frantically at the blood seeping from a cut above her eyebrow, but her attention was locked on Grizzer. "Get away from me!"

"Please calm down, ma'am, Grizzer isn't going to hurt-"

"Get away!" With that shout, one of the woman's arms lit in crackling blue electricity. Webs of light traced up and down across nodes nested in the wires of an arm he could now see was mostly cybernetic.

Hound towed Grizzer back and away from the woman even as he stared at the display. The hissing buzz of the electricity was as fascinating as it was intimidating, but Hound knew without reading the alerts on his HUD that they were illegal cybernetical alterations. Illegal alterations that she had just activated - accidental or not - in the middle of a group of civilians.

There was no way around it: he was going to have to bring her into the precinct.

"Fang," he ordered, holding Grizzer's lead out to the other ARF. Grizzer was smart and well-trained enough to go to Fang without the lead, but Hound didn't think the woman would be calmed by seeing a massiff moving around uncontrolled by a handler.

Fang, stars bless him, jogged across the small distance. He took the lead and hauled Grizzer away in seconds, ordering fascinated onlookers to go about their business all the while.

Hound's attention was fixed too closely on the woman to worry about things like civilians in the area. Her close-shaved head let him see the fire in her eyes, brighter and more violent than the sparks dripping from her cybernetic arm. If she was going to attack him or the crowd, he would need all the warning he could get. Stopping her in time to keep people from getting hurt would be tricky.

Slowly, he extended a hand, palm-out. "Easy," he breathed, humming a bit when she stared at him without moving. "The massiff is gone and no one wants to hurt you. Everything is okay."

Hound wasn't aware that he was nodding gently until she mirrored the motion, her head bobbing up and down in tense jerks. The rise and fall of her chest was still too rapid for comfort. Hound took a deep breath, exaggerating the sound for her.

"Deep breaths, deep breaths," he told her. "Everything is fine. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just- just keep it away from me," she said, voice a bit hoarse.

"Grizzer is over there and he's going to stay over there," Hound said firmly. "What else?"

She stared at him, her eyes intense and frank. "Let me go home."

Hound shook his head. "We both know I can't do that. Those are illegal alterations on your cybernetic, and you used them in a very public place. I need to take you to the station and file a report."

It was a bold thing to say, especially with the shivering light from her electricity-wreathed arm bouncing around the area, but she only sighed and flexed her fingers. The electricity died with the movement.

"I'll come with you," she stipulated, "but I won't ride with the massiff."

"I understand," Hound agreed, accepting her offer with ease. "Fang?"

"Sir?"

"Can you bring Grizzer back to the precinct?"

Fang took a moment to answer, and Hound glanced back to find the ARF staring at him in shock. "You want me to take Grizzer?"

"Yes, trooper," Hound said, an edge of exasperation entering his voice.

He felt a little bad making the request in the first place. Hound always took Grizzer with him, always. But Fang was a good soldier and a good brother, and he had a solid working relationship with Grizzer. Hound trusted Fang to get the massiff back to the precinct safely, even if he was a little guilty at leaving Grizzer behind.

Sorry, buddy, he mentally apologized to Grizzer. The massiff shook his head, tongue lolling out as if to say it was fine. Hound grinned. He had long thought that Grizzer was a little psychic.

"I'll get him there, sir," Fang agreed immediately, adding a sharp salute. Hound nodded solemnly at him and watched as the ARF and the massiff headed for Fang's cruiser.

When they were gone, Hound stood and extended a hand down to the woman, but she ignored it and stood on her own. When she was upright, she extended her wrists toward him for restraints. Hound pushed them down and gently guided her toward his own cruiser.

"You aren't going to put binders on me?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I wasn't planning on it," Hound said honestly. "Why, are you going to make trouble?"

"I wasn't planning on it," she said with a hint of mockery in her voice. "But for someone who is arresting me for illegal cybernetic enhancements, you don't seem worried I'm going to use them on you."

"If you want binders, we can do binders," Hound said with a long-suffering attitude. "It'll be a lot more trouble on my side, though. Do you really want to make extra work for me?"

"I would never want to inconvenience someone who's arresting me," she responded, expression as dry as her tone.

"Good! No binders, then," Hound decided, steering her into the backseat of his cruiser.

They didn't say another word to each other on the way to the precinct.

---

A/N - I just realized that the chapter cut comes before Hound learns that it's Ransom he's arresting. It's an awkward splice, but that's what happens when you write a story all at once and try to cut it into chapters of similar length afterward!

I'm sorry for the late update, but between the Chauvin sentencing and the death of Ma'Khia Bryant in the last week, I couldn't even think about posting on my usual day without feeling guilty and uncomfortable. I hope the protest described here wasn't too offensive to anyone, but I wanted to get this chapter posted!

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 2

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/622991219538214912/the-long-way-around-ch-1

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 2210

Warnings: None

Jasper’s POV

Before we even get close to the house, a high-pitched, agonized screaming makes Esme and I both flinch. She had insisted on coming along, though Carlisle, Edward, and I had all warned against it. Newborns can be feral and deadly, and none of us want Esme to get hurt. But she was adamant, and we all respect her too much to deny her a choice. Personally, I think Esme wants to be there so the girl can have someone less intimidating to interact with. I can’t blame her. If I had to wake up in an unfamiliar place after experiencing trauma and indescribable pain, I would much rather see Esme than me.

We enter Carlisle’s study, the smell of bleach strong. Esme tsks upon seeing the state of the girl’s outfit. The bloodied parts of her dress have been cut away and, I assume, burned. What’s left doesn’t do much to protect the girl’s modesty, but someone had the decency to cover her with a towel. Esme flits away and returns within seconds carrying clean clothes. Wordlessly, Carlisle, Edward, and I exit the room. 

The girl’s screams die into fearful whimpers, likely in response to Esme’s cold, unfamiliar touch.

“She thinks she’s in Hell,” Edward mutters, looking at the floor. “She’s terrified.”

That much I know. I can feel the waves of agony, fear, and horror rolling off of her. It makes me want to flinch away. But instead, I merely clear my throat and try to ignore these emotions. “We’ll need to be careful when she comes to. She might not be willing to listen to reason, and that will be dangerous with her newborn strength.” 

Carlisle and Edward nod. 

When Esme calls us back in we find her sitting in a chair near the girl’s head, stroking her hair. “What’s her name?”

“Y/n, Y/l/n, according to the license we found on her,” Carlisle responds, adjusting the morphine levels in the drip. Based on the girl’s--Y/n’s--screams, I doubt it’s doing much, if anything. 

Edward nods almost imperceptibly, confirming my suspicions. Of course we would never tell Carlisle. It would break his heart. As it is, I can feel his intense self-loathing. I do what I can to ease it. 

Y/n briefly opens her eyes to see who is touching her, and I can see, as well as feel, her fear. When she gives into the pain and closes her eyes once more, I move to stand on her other side, opposite Esme, and use my ability to try to calm her down. 

While she’s consumed in whatever hell she’s enduring, I study her. She’s in great distress, obviously, and it pains me to see how young she is. She can’t be more than twenty. Such a short human life. Then again, a rueful voice within me taunts, you had less. Physically, I’m frozen at nineteen, but I feel so much older...Probably because I’m actually a hundred and seventy-six years old. Inwardly, I scoff. If she’s careful, Y/n has a very long life ahead of her. 

We stay like this for many hours. Y/n alternates between writhing and screaming to whimpering pitifully. Her emotions are hard to bear, and I can only guess as to what Edward is experiencing. Esme and I do our best to make her feel better, but with little success. The transformation is a truly terrible process. Eventually, Y/n’s skin becomes too hard for the needles, and Carlisle puts away the drip. A few hours later, Edward perks up. 

“Shouldn’t be long now. The pain is starting to recede from her fingers and toes.” 

‘Shouldn’t be long’ is relative, and it takes four long hours until her heart starts beating frantically in its last effort to survive. 

“Esme, back up,” I advise, knowing that, any minute now, the seemingly harmless girl on the cot could jump up and become a deranged killing machine. 

Esme goes to stand at the back of the room with Carlisle. Edward moves to block the door, and I plant myself directly in front of the cot. Hopefully, if she does become violent, the four of us will be able to catch and subdue her. 

“No sudden movements,” I remind them. “She’s scared enough already and it’s only going to get worse. Once the thirst hits, we’ll be virtually unable to communicate with her until she feeds. It’ll be the only thing on her mind.” My voice is grim, and I can’t help the flashbacks to my many years surrounded by vicious newborns, as well as my own time as one. 

My family stills, a sure sign of stress, as Y/n’s heartrate skyrockets for five tense seconds, and then stops. 

No one breathes. 

Y/n gasps, opens her eyes, and sits up in the span of half a second. I feel her fear, shock, and confusion. 

“What…” She looks around the room, taking us in. When she sees me staring directly at her with my hands clasped tightly behind my back, I feel her fear intensify. It’s a natural reaction to both my intimidating stance and the scars covering my body, and I wish it didn’t bother me so much. 

“Where am I?” Her voice is breathy, eyes wild. I send waves of calm her way. 

Carlisle takes a slow step forward, his palms open in a show of harmlessness. “I am Dr. Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and two of my sons, Edward and Jasper.” He nods at each of us. 

“You’re very safe here, Y/n,” Esme reassures. 

I can tell it does little to ease Y/n’s suspicions, but it was kind of Esme to try anyway. 

Carlisle’s voice is calm and soothing when he continues. “You are at our home, which is about fifteen miles outside of the main town. Your friends brought you here three days ago. Do you remember that?”

“I…” Recognition dawns on Y/n’s face. “I was stabbed. But I was dying, I…” She gulps, a new bout of fear consuming her. “Am I in Hell?”

“No,” Carlisle says firmly. “I’m sorry for the pain. Unfortunately, it’s the only way to enter this new life.” 

Her confusion deepens. “New life, meaning…” She trails off in a question. 

“You’re a vampire,” Edward states simply. 

It’s then that she decides to bolt. 

Edward is on her in a millisecond, having heard the warning from her thoughts. 

“Edward, no!” I lunge forward, trying to all at once keep Y/n from escaping and Edward from getting hurt. 

But it’s too late. The new vampire has already given into her instincts and bitten Edward, hard, in an effort to get him to release her. 

He does, of course. Vampire venom hurts like a bitch. 

Edward howls and falls to the floor; Esme is at his side in an instant. Carlisle quickly guards the door, while I work to force the crazed newborn into the corner of the room. She snaps and throws her arms around, but I easily dodge her predictable movements. 

“Listen to me.” My voice is harsh, commanding, just like it had been all those years ago. But what can I do? It’s the only way they’ll listen. 

Y/n’s eyes dart wildly around the room. I hit her with every ounce of calm and lethargy I’ve got. Thankfully, she soon becomes much more subdued. 

I continue. “We don’t want to hurt you, but if you attack us again you’ll leave us no choice.” I let her mind fill in the blanks of what we’ll do if she does try to attack. Of course we wouldn’t actually hurt her, but she doesn’t need to know that. A little dose of fear will be useful in controlling her. 

“You say I’m a vampire.” Her voice shakes slightly, but she stands tall, defiant, almost. She’s trying to project confidence. I know her true emotions, so I know her exterior is a facade, but I have to admire the effort. She looks at me then, straight in the eye. “Is that why my throat burns? Why I’m so thirsty?” She spits the word out, and I can feel her desperation and dread. She so badly wants to be wrong. I honestly think she would feel better if we laughed at her and said no, we were just playing, that we had actually kidnapped and drugged her instead. 

But of course, we can’t say that. This is her new reality. So my voice is even and honest when I respond. “Yes. You’ll need to hunt soon.” 

Carlisle appears at my left shoulder. “Our coven is different from others. We feed only on animal blood.”

At the mention of blood, her emotions change. Suddenly, she becomes ravenous and hyper-focused. She sinks to the ground and claws at her throat. 

None of us are shocked. Esme, Edward, and Carlisle all went through this process with each other and with Rosalie and Emmett. I went through it with the myriad of newborns I helped train. But still, it’s unnerving to see how one can go from human-like to animalistic, the true predator coming out in a split second.

Having recovered, Edward joins me on my right side. I can feel his annoyance, but that won’t fade until the sting from the venom does. 

“Jasper’s right, it’s all she can think about right now. She’s starting to wonder if we’re threats standing in the way of her obtaining a meal.” 

I nod, feeling her growing suspicion. “Are there any humans nearby?” 

Edward pauses, then shakes his head. “I can’t hear anyone. I’ll let you know if that changes.” 

I steel myself. “Okay. Esme and Carlisle, you go ahead and wait in the forest. Be close once you pick up our scents, but don’t follow, just try to keep a perimeter. She could easily misinterpret us as a threat and decide to attack.” 

They nod and rush to the woods. 

Y/n is now growing restless, and I can feel her indecision. 

Edward looks at her, his gaze hard. “Patience. We’re doing this to help you, so calm down.” 

Y/n lets out a light snarl, showing her displeasure. 

She’s not going to understand that, I think at Edward. She won’t be able to listen to reason until she feeds. 

His annoyance grows, but he doesn’t push Y/n further. 

Once I’m satisfied that Carlisle and Esme have a good head start, I decide it’s time to go. “Come with us, we’ll take you somewhere with blood.” 

Y/n’s emotions flare with excitement and anticipation at my promise. 

Stay at her side but don’t get in front of or behind her unless it’s necessary. She could interpret that as a challenge. Once Edward nods, we take off. 

Y/n obediently stays between me and Edward, knowing we’ll take her to where she can satisfy her thirst. If you promise a newborn blood, you can get them to do anything, I think ruefully. I feel Edward’s sympathy for me, and I shake off my past. Right now, we have a job to do. 

Not two miles into the forest, we catch the scent of deer. Edward and I hang back, letting Y/n’s instincts guide her from here on out. 

She’s messy, but swift. Within minutes, all ten deer are drained. 

I feel Y/n’s dissatisfaction, and hold back a chuckle. Even without tasting human blood, it’s easy to be disappointed by the animal blood. Thinking of drinking from a human again stirs up temptation within me, and I crush it down. My self-control now is much better than in the past, but I’ll always remember the taste of human blood, and that makes it hard to enjoy the eternity facing me of drinking only from animals. I idly wonder if Y/n will choose to stay with us or go her own way, and if she does leave, will she continue drinking animal blood or switch to humans? But now isn’t the time to think about that. We still have to keep a close eye on the situation in front of us.

“Better,” I ask, approaching Y/n slowly. 

She purses her lips, still crouched on the ground. “Sort of.” 

Edward smiles in understanding. “You’ll get more used to it in time. It takes a lot of practice, but you can do it. We’ll be here to help you as long as you need.” 

Esme and Carlisle’s scents reach us, and Y/n crouches, a growl rising in her throat. I do my best to calm her. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just Carlisle and Esme, whom you met earlier. They won’t try to take any food from you.” 

Placated by both my words and ability, Y/n straightens, but a residual amount of suspicion remains. 

“I expect you have a lot of questions.” Carlisle’s voice is steady as he addresses Y/n from a few hundred yards away. “Come back with us to the house, we will answer them all.” 

With a sad-sounding sigh, Y/n nods. I feel for her. She’s got a long, hard road ahead. 

And so do you, a voice reminds me. I hold back a groan, knowing the next few years are going to be tough for us all.

A/n Hello, thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

xx

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623116614605357056/the-long-way-around-chapter-3

Tag list: @puer-de-infinitate @charliestuff @hindustani-diaspora

[amaranthkick]

A Therapy Werewolf, part 10

(ao3) 

“You should have seen it, Pidge! Shiro threw his head back, a noble howl resonating around the area catching the attention of the space wolves. All Shiro had to do was growl, showing off those pearly whites and they were cowering with their tail between their legs. Ah, as a fellow lupine, it brings a tear to my eye.” Lance dramatically wiped a non-existent tear from his eye.

Shiro knocked Lance down, laying on top of him and trapping him underneath. “You know that is not what happened in the slightest.”

“Mmm, yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened.” Pidge said to Lance, voice dripping with sarcasm. She raised an eyebrow. “What really happened?”

Lance hid his flushed face behind his hands while Shiro whined softly and put a paw on top of his muzzle. Hunk tilted his head at their reactions and gasped as an idea popped into his head. “Oh! Is it like on TV where dogs sniff--”

Everyone froze as the alarm blared throughout the castle and in an instant they rushed to the bridge.

“It's as I feared.” Allura informed them as she pulled up the map, showing an enemy marker heading towards their location. “The Galra are sending a warship to our position. Fortunately, it's not a robeast. ...Not this time yet. But this means we don’t have the leisure to wait here for a way to change Shiro back to normal. Never mind, we’ll talk afterwards. Paladins to your Lions!”

Shiro huffed as he waited on the bridge as the others worked together to take down the warship. He could feel the Black Lion purring in apology in the back of his mind but as otherworldly and advanced as these Lions were, the controls proved difficult in his current state.

Though he wasn’t able to fight with his team, he perked up in pride as they managed to take it down. They have really grown from the first time they piloted the Lions to be able to work together even with one Lion missing.

---

Even though they were victorious it was tense when the paladins returned to the bridge. Keith was tense with anger, of course the Galra wouldn’t let them catch their breath. It’s just a matter of time until they keep sending stronger and stronger reinforcements. Pidge was fiercely staring at a screen as if her glare can make a cure form faster. Everyone else was frowning thinking of what they could do.

Lance started when he felt Shiro nudge his hand with a wet nose. “You said you had a plan B, in case things don’t pan out. Well… things aren’t panning out. Can I hear what it is?”

Hearing Shiro bark made everyone turn their heads in their direction. Lance rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, there is something I’d like to try. I think it’ll be able to help Shiro.”

Lance explained that he wanted to turn Shiro, give him the bite and turn him into a werewolf. He got the idea thinking about Coran’s remarks about his body rejecting the space wolf chemical. The turn would also pretty much be instantaneous. The idea surprised them and certainly piqued Coran’s interest in how the turning works but more importantly brought a spark of hope back in their eyes.

“How interesting, is it magic based or perhaps it works like an infection passed through a bite wound?” Coran was holding a magnifying glass too close to Lance’s mouth for his liking.

“I have no idea.” Lance leaned away from Coran’s good-natured prodding. “I’ve never tried it but it does involve a bite, which obviously hurts. Not sure how I feel about biting our leader. Are you sure you want to try it?” He asked Shiro.

“I’m willing to give it a try.” Shiro nodded, appreciating his concern.

“Are you sure this will work?” Keith asked, highly concerned for Shiro’s safety.

“I don’t know how this’ll work on a space wolf but uh… ok, something like this happened before. They say that no one has turned anyone in a while but my dad or his friends might have done it but don’t you guys tell a soul! My family might get in trouble.”

At their agreement, Lance continued. “A long time ago, when my dad and a few of his friends were young and dumb and unafraid, they asked the age old question ‘can you turn a wolf into a werewolf?’ But unlike normal people and just imagining what would happen, they tried it out. Long story short they ended up adopting a very confused and slightly feral human. Ah, Uncle Jim Jam… the life of the party.” Lance ended with a nostalgic tinge in his voice.

“You guys named him Jim Jam?” Hunk asked incredulously.

Lance gasped, a hand on his chest. “Don’t be mean! He’s doing his best! But anyway, they started a wolf and ended with a werewolf that can turn into a human or wolf. Which is what we’ll end up with, hopefully.”

---

It wasn’t night yet but the moon had entered the sky from the eastern horizon. Lance said he needed some time to concentrate and see if the moon was willing to help. Apparently he had to get the moon’s blessing to be able to turn someone. Shiro found Lance in the usual hall, the moon visible in the window. His eyes were closed and he breathed in deeply, soaking up the moonlight. Once Lance noticed his presence he sat down next to him.

“This moon is happy to help, she feels friendly and kinda curious about me and werewolves since this planet doesn’t have any. ...How are you feeling about all this? Like getting drugged and uh, getting experimented again by the galra?” Lance winced as he asked. There wasn’t exactly a subtler way to ask that.

Shiro was surprised then he deflated with a sigh. It was hard to keep the dependable leader front with all this trauma piling up. “It certainly is not helping that it happened again. Feels like everytime they get their dirty hands on me, I’m changed beyond recognition from who I used to be.” He felt like he could breathe a little easier, having admitted that.

Lance started to gently stroke his fur, he felt Shiro relaxing slightly at his touch. “How about this though? If turning you is successful, you won’t exactly be fully human again.”

“Hmm, but this feels different. Maybe because you offered it and I chose to try it rather than another galran experiment being forced on me.” But still… being a werewolf, it’ll definitely be a new experience, Shiro thought.

“Oh! That kinda reminds me of some werewolf legends, want to hear them?” Lance looked eager to tell him a bit of werewolf culture, his culture. Shiro wagged his tail once, happy to listen.

“Well, they say the first turning was actually a curse.” Lance smiled sheepishly as he started. “Humans were afraid of werewolves so they hunted them. The moon was angry at the many innocent lives lost to the hunters. So she cursed the bite a werewolf had inflicted in self defence and caused the hunter to become a werewolf and thus the hunter becomes the hunted by his own people.

“Oh! But then there’s another legend that makes turning look like a blessing! So there was this werewolf woman whose lover was terribly injured. Since werewolves boasted great regenerative abilities she begged the moon to be able to turn her love so she can save them. And once she did they lived happily ever after and all that jazz. They tell these stories to get pups to not judge things at first glance since something was a curse in once case turned out to be a blessing in another. Ah, I remember when grandma told me these stories...”

Shiro's eyes softened fondly as Lance started to reminisce, happily talking about his family. A blessing, huh? Shiro felt lighter as his nuzzling caused Lance to laugh.

“Haha! Alright, alright. Enough of that, I think I’m good to go. Let’s get everyone and see this through.”

---

Pain.

Shiro was ready to accept that. Sharp teeth sinking into his flesh. But that spike of pain only lasted for a moment.

Then it felt like lava coursed through his veins spreading from the bite to every part of his body. He felt something… in the back of his mind, a gentle pull. Was this how the moon felt to Lance?  Lance told him if he felt it, he should go against the pull as it guided them towards their wolf form. He concentrated on doing so. Shiro gritted his teeth as muscles spasmed and bones started to shift. He could vaguely hear yells of concern from the others.

He remembers Lance trying to tell him to not fight against the change before he blacked out.

---

It was a chaotic few minutes full of screaming, cursing, yelling, honestly, just another day out here in space, Lance thought to himself. But everyone calmed down once Shiro had changed back into a human even though he promptly passed out. They quickly dressed him up in the silky, black pajamas stored in the castle. He was still missing his arm but with Pidge, Hunk, and Coran on the case, Lance doubts it would be that much of an issue for long.

Lance suggested a sleepover, getting everyone bringing their blankets and pillows to fill that circle of couches area in the common room. This way with Shiro’s brand new stronger sense of smell, he’d be surrounded by familiar scents when he wakes up.

Allura took Coran with her to chart their next course to their next destination, taking care to mark some safe spots to give the paladins much needed rest. Coran assured Lance that he would make her join the sleepover so she could rest as well.

As they slept in the soft nest waiting for Shiro to wake, Lance settled in and he let his mind wander. It’s been a wild ride out here in space. Becoming paladins, helping Shiro like he helped his uncle, everyone accepting him even if he was a werewolf and him fully accepting them as a pack. Lance knew this war would be tough but he’ll do what he could for his pack.

[infinite-xerath]

Runeterra Retcons: Ruination Episode (Ionia)

Ionia Part I

After discussing it heavily with your comrades, you all agree that your next destination should be Ionia. The light of the Wayfinder encompasses you all as it carries you across the sea to the Ionian Sentinel outpost, where you are surprised to find that nothing seems amiss on the shores.

“Looks like the Black Mist hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Wow, so this is Ionia? It’s beautiful!”

Riven response 1: “I can’t say I’m surprised. Ionia’s always been resistant to invaders…”

Riven response 2: “Yeah… But it wasn’t always like this…”

Gwen: “Oh what an absolutely splendid place! I’ve never been anywhere this majestic before!”

Senna: “They call Ionia the First Lands, and some say it’s the birthplace of magic itself. I guess it’s no surprise that this place is a sort of safe haven against the Harrowing.”

Olaf: “Wait! Look there!”

Olaf points further inland, where you see a great cloud of Black Mist descending onto a vibrant forest.

Vayne: “So much for a safe haven…”

Senna: “No time to stand around and gawk! Let’s move, Sentinels!”

Senna takes the lead as you all charge ahead, ascending the winding mountain path. All around you, wild animals scatter and flee as the Black Mist pours through the forest. The once-vibrant flora withers and distorts around you while the very air seems to linger with malice.

Suddenly, you feel a gnarled tree root spring to life and wrap around your leg, pulling you down. A shrill scream fills the air as you hit the ground and feel yourself being dragged back down the path. Before you vanish completely into the brush, however, Lucian frees your leg with a well-timed shot.

Lucian: “You alright, rookie? That was, uh, quite a scream just now.”

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“That, uh, wasn’t me.”

Lucian response 1: “Don’t mention it. Now let’s keep moving.”

Lucian response 2: ��Heh, sure it wasn’t...”

Before you can say anything more, another identical scream cuts through the air. You all turn to see a peculiar figure bounding through the forest. Her upper half resembles that of a young woman, but her lower body is that of a fawn. She holds in her possession a branch with a peculiar bloom attached to it.

???: “Oh dear, oh dear!”

“Is that a person?”

“Is that an animal?”

Vayne: “Whatever it is, it’s heading right for us.”

Sure enough, the strange figure is bounding toward you at an alarming rate, looking back over her shoulder. She turns her head just in time to see the Sentinels and comes skidding to a stop.

???: “Eep!”

“Eep!”

“Woah, that was close!”

“She… Is… Adorable!”

Lillia: “W-Who are you!? Ah, wait, no! Just… Pretend you can’t see them, Lillia! If you can’t see them, they can’t see you.”

Vayne: “Sorry to lay this on you, but that’s not how it works.”

Riven: “Hang on, something else is coming!”

You look up to see the Black Mist descending toward you, carrying with it a swarm of wraiths.

Lillia: “Oh no! They’ve followed me!”

Gwen: “Please, stand behind us, funny fawn person! We will make short work of these fiends!”

Ionia Part II

The Sentinels charge into the fray, cutting and blasting their way through the swarm of wraiths. As they fight, however, you notice more of the local wildlife succumbing to the Black Mist, warping the surrounding forests beyond recognition.

Lillia: “No… Stop! Please stop!”

“Are you OK?”

“Hey, everything’s going to be alright.”

Lillia: “No… Can’t you feel it? The dreams of the trees, the animals… It’s like… One very bad dream is blocking out all the others!”

Lucian: “Rookie, what’s she talking about?”

Senna: “Nevermind, just stay focused! We need push deeper into this forest and find that fetter!”

The Sentinels quickly resume their fight, though Lillia’s ears perk up when she hears Senna’s words.

Lillia: “What? You’re… Going DEEPER into the forest? B-But it’s dangerous!”

Vayne: “Exactly! Where monsters go, so do we!”

Riven: “If the Black Mist is here, that must mean another one of these fetters is too, right? Then we have to find it and get it out of here, or all of Ionia will be in danger! That’s… Not something I want to see again!”

Gwen: “Quite right! Fear not, funny fawn girl! We shan’t let a few wraiths impede us!”

Lillia: “But… Why?”

“We’re Sentinels. Fighting ghosts is what we do!”

“We’re here to save Ionia, and the world, from the Black Mist!”

Lillia: “You… You aren’t afraid?”

“Not in the slightest!”

“Quite a bit, actually, but I can’t turn back now!”

Lillia: “That’s… That’s quite brave of you. …Alright. Everyone, please follow me! I think I know what the ghouls are after!”

Lillia suddenly darts off into the forest, waving her branch to clean a path through the Mist.

Riven: “Should we follow her?”

Senna: “Well… If she can lead us to the fetter, it’s a risk I’m willing to take! Move out, Sentinels!”

Ionia Part III

Lillia guides you through the forest, using the branch in her hands to keep the hostile wildlife at bay. You follow her into a cave, where your only source of light comes from Lillia’s bloom. Though it’s dark and damp, you’re surprised to find that the Black Mist seems to linger about the entrance, refusing to step inside.

Vayne: “Are we sure about this isn’t a trap?”

“We’ve already come all this way…”

“Hey, she’s cute! How can you say no to those big eyes?”

Olaf: “Hmph. If this is a trap, there had better be a worth foe at this tunnel’s end!”

Lillia: “...”

Lucian: “Hey, fawn girl!”

Lillia: “Eep! O-Oh, you mean me?”

Lucian: “Yeah. Are you sure there’s a fetter in here?”

Lillia: “Uh, well… I’m not sure what sort of ‘fetter’ you mean, but I think… I know that the ghouls want what’s up ahead.”

Vayne: “And just how do you know that?”

“Come on guys, have some faith in her.”

“The Mist didn’t want to come in here, so there’s gotta be something special about this place.”

Riven: “Wait, do you see that?”

Up ahead, the path widens out into a grotto illuminated by giant crystals in the cave wall.

“What is this place?”

“It’s breathtaking…”

Riven: “Yeah, Ionia really is beautiful. It’s a shame that some people would destroy that beauty just to take it for themselves…”

Up ahead, you see that the cave floor turns from stone to grass. Somehow, a small meadow has bloomed in the heart of the mountain, illuminated by the glow of the crystals.

Gwen: “Goodness, these gems would make for a marvelous addition to a dress! Oh, but I suppose that would ruin their natural beauty. A shame.”

Lucian: “It’s pretty, alright, but where’s the fetter?”

As if on cue, the light in Senna’s chest starts to glow, as does Gwen’s. Nearby, you see a single flower near the heart of the grotto begin to glow with the same calming light.

Senna: “There it is! That’s the fetter!”

“A rose? How can a rose be a fetter?”

“So Isolde’s soul has been hiding in a flower for centuries?”

Lillia: “This flower is very old. It was brought here long ago from a far-away land. I can see its dreams too, you know. Dreams so pure, full of love and light… Happy memories. It dreams of man and woman who cherished each other more than anything. Isn’t that… Such… A lovely dream?”

You watch in horror as a ghastly crown forms around Lillia’s head. Suddenly, Black Mist fills the cave, engulfing Lillia and transforming her in an instant.

Lillia: “Such a lovely dream, and you all are trying to ruin it! How… How could you!?”

“Lillia, wait! Let’s talk this out!”

“Aw man! Why is it always the cute ones!?”

Vayne: “I knew we couldn’t trust her!”

Vayne takes aim with her crossbow, but before she can fire a single shot, Lillia waves her branch in a wide arc. A mysterious, glittering dust washes over you and the other Sentinels, as does a strange sense of drowsiness.

Olaf: “Argh! What… Is this…?”

Gwen: “Oh my. Suddenly… So… Tired…”

“So… Sleepy.”

“Can’t… Stay… Awake.”

Despite your best efforts, you soon succumb to the effects of Lillia’s dream dust. Soon, you and the other Sentinels fall onto the floor of the cave and descend into a deep slumber…

Ionia Part IV

You find yourself wandering the streets of your hometown, alone. Wherever you go, the people have locked their doors and refuse to open up. You are cold and scared, and those feelings only grow as you notice the ominous Black Mist coursing toward you.

You try to run, but the Mist is faster. You hear inhuman screams behind you, and look back to see vaguely humanoid figures emerging from the haze. You force your legs into overdrive, only to wind up tripping and following on a loose stone. Your cry out in pain as you hit the ground, but your scream is drowned out by the wails of the undead behind you.

Dread hangs over you a like a pall. Death seems inevitable, though you know that death is not the end if these creatures take you. You will become one of them, hunting other poor souls to join the ranks of the undead. You close your eyes and wait, only for the sound of gunfire to fill your ears.

You open your eyes and look up. The wraiths cry out in pain as bolts of light pierce them, driving them back. You find yourself surrounded by figures in strange uniforms, carrying weapons unlike any you’ve every seen.

“W-Who are you?”

“Where did you come from?”

Though their face is hazy, you see one of the figures turn to look at you.

???: “We’re the Sentinels of Light. Don’t worry, we’ll handle the undead. You just find a safe place to hide and wake up.”

“Huh?”

“What do you mean?”

???: “Wake up. Come on, Rookie, nap time is over!”

Your eyes slowly open as you regain consciousness. You see Lucian and Senna standing over you.

Senna: “Good to see you’re still with us.”

“How long was I out?”

“What happened?”

Lucian response 1: “Too damn long. That deer girl made off with fetter while we are all dozin’ off.”

Lucian response 2: “That deer girl put us all to sleep then nabbed the fetter, that’s what.”

Gwen: “And she seemed so nice! What an awful turn things have taken.”

???: “Indeed. The future of the realms hangs in the balance.”

“Uh, who is this?”

“Is that a freaking ninja!?”

Shen: “Apologies if I have startled you, child. I am the Eye of Twilight, but you may call me Shen.”

Vayne: “After Deer Girl put us all to sleep, this ninja’s the one who came to wake us up. I don’t like being in debt, but I guess we owe you now.”

Shen: “You owe me nothing. I acted as needed to maintain balance, nothing more.”

Riven: “Apparently, he’s part of the Kinkou. I’ve heard of them. They’re a group devoted to maintaining order in Ionia, though from what I understand, they didn’t do much when Noxus invaded these shores.”

Shen: “The Kinkou protect the balance between the material and immaterial realms. Mortal wars are not our concern… But this Harrowing threatens to consume Ionia itself.”

Shen gestures outside and, to your horror, you see that the Black Mist has nearly complete covered the forest. The once-vibrant colors of the trees are now faded and lifeless and the sounds of nature are replaced by the cries of wraiths.

“It’s awful…”

“How did this happen so fast?”

Shen: “The spirit of Ionia is tainted, and the land is a reflection of that spirit. What’s more, azakana will feed on the negativity brought forth by this, granting demons more power than ever.”

Senna: “This is what’ll happen to the entire world if we don’t stop Viego. That’s why we need to find that fetter, and quickly!”

Gwen: “But… That Not-so-Funny Faun took it! How are we supposed to find her amidst all of that?”

Vayne: “Hate to say it, but she’s right. If we have to fight through all of that, then Deer Girl will be long-gone by the time we catch her trail.”

Shen: “Fear not, for the Eye of Twilight sees all, even through the darkest shadows. The Dream Faun makes for the coast, though I sense an even greater darkness approaching. You, who are sword to defend the light, will you accompany me to confront this darkness?”

Gwen: “A greater darkness? You couldn’t possibly mean...”

Lucian: “Viego! We gotta get the beach, now!”

Riven: “But how are we going to get there through all this Mist?”

Shen: “Fret not, for I walk the space between world. Gather close to me.”

Though uncertain of his meaning, you and the other Sentinels do as asked, stepping close to Shen as he makes unusual gestures with his hands. Suddenly, you are all engulfed in violet light as Shen whisks you through the spirit realm.

Ionia Part V

You feel formless. Weightless. All around you are sights and colors your mind can scarcely comprehend. Some set your mind at ease, while others terrify you. This sensation lasts for only a moment before you reemerge in the physical realm, surrounded once more by your comrades.

“Hey, long-distance teleporting is my thing!”

“That… Was awesome!”

“That was… Bizarre!”

Riven: “Ugh… I think I’ll stick to the Wayfinder from now on, thanks.”

Shen: “Gather yourselves! The Dream Fawn is just ahead!”

Sure enough, you see Lillia standing on the beach, staring out at the ocean. She clutches the fetter tightly in one hand and her branch in the other.

Lucian: “She doesn’t know we’re here. I say we take her by surprise and-”

Olaf: “RETRIBUTION AWAITS!”

Suddenly, Olaf rushes ahead, screaming at the top of his lungs. Lillia leaps in surprise and turns around to see the berserker rushing at her. Instinctively, she launches a seed from her branch that rolls along the sand, growing large in size as it travels.

“Olaf, look out!”

“Don’t let it hit you!”

Olaf utterly ignores your warning and runs into the seed head-on. To your amazement, he just keeps running even as the seed explodes into dream dust.

Lillia: “W-What!? T-That’s not possible!”

Lucian: “That’s a berserker for ya. Once they get riled up, nobody can stop them.”

Olaf is just about to reach Lillia when, suddenly, the tide behind her swells to life and comes ashore. Olaf is swept back in a massive wave of darkened away, though Lillia somehow remains completely dry.

Lucian: “The ocean, on the other hand…”

Shen: “The Spirit of Ionia is tainted. The trees, the air, the waters… They now bend to HIS will.”

You look ahead to see a familiar figure emerging from the Black Mist, the sea itself parting to make way for him.

“Viego!”

“The Ruined King!”

Olaf: “Pfft! Pah! So, he’s the one who bested the Barbarian King? I thought he would be… Bigger.”

Viego: “Ah, what a pleasant surprise! I travel all this way to find that my prize is already waiting for me.”

Lillia: “Y-Yes, sir. I am here to help your dream bloom.”

Shen: “Stop! You have desecrated the balance, and now you shall pay for your transgressions!”

Viego: “Balance? Fool. Without her, there is no balance. She is the light to my darkness, the joy to my anguish. If you would stand against me, then YOU are the one who shall pay the price!”

Shen and Viego dash across the beach toward each other, their blades ringing out as they clash.

Senna: “Let’s back him up, Sentinels!”

You and the other Sentinels quickly rush to aid Shen, but find yourself impeded by the corrupted Spirit of Ionia. Fierce bursts of wind repeatedly knock you off your feat while rocks along the beach form together into twisted constructs.

Riven: “Ngh…”

“Are you alright?”

“Riven, what’s wrong?”

Riven: “Fighting on the beaches of Ionia, pushing back against the will of the land itself… This whole scenario is bringing back a lot of unhappy memories.”

Senna: “Shake it off, Riven! We need to push past this!”

The Sentinels continue to struggle against the will of the land, but only Shen seems undeterred by it. The Eye of Twlight engages the Ruined King in a fierce battle, both of them vanishing and reappearing all over the beach.

“I can barely keep track of them!”

“This isn’t working!”

Viego: “See how your homeland bends to my will, Ionian! Your allies can lend you no aid. Mine, on the other hand…”

Lillia leaps into the air behind Shen, slamming her branch down on the beach. Shen staggers as Lillia’s dream dust washes over him, falling to one knee as he struggles to stay awake. Meanwhile, Viego turns his attention to your group, his gaze fixing itself upon Senna and Gwen. They fail to notice, too busy fending off the endlessly-regenerating stone constructs on the beach.

“Gwen, look out!”

“Senna, look out!”

Option 1: Viego rushes toward Gwen, but thanks to your warning, she manages to parry the blow and push Viego back her Hallowed Mist.

Option 2: Viego rushes toward Senna, but thanks to your warning, she manages to evade his strike and fire a back in retaliation.

Viego grunts in annoyance and vanishes into the Black Mist once more. To your surprise, he reappears before you, lifting you up by the throat.

Viego: “Such a peculiar child. Your little band is strange enough, but you… You do not even carry a weapon. Still, you seek to defy me, all the same.”

Vayne: “Put the kid down, creep!”

The Sentinels all rush to your aid, but soon find themselves impeded by a wall of sand rising up around you.

Viego: “Many choose to stand against me and my noble quest. Some do it to ‘save’ this cruel world. Others merely resent me, though their hearts are as dark as my own. So tell me, child: why do you oppose me? Justice? Righteousness? Contempt?”

“…”

“What you’re doing is wrong!”

Viego: “Hmph. A predictable response. No matter. Whatever your reasons, you will serve as an example!”

Viego raises his sword to impale you, but another blade suddenly manifests above your head: an ephemeral weapon that lingers in the air. A pulse of spirit magic frees you from Viego’s grasp and destroys the sand barrier. Viego vanishes into the Mist once more, and in his place stands Shen, grasping the shimmering blade.

Shen: “Stand up. Your role is far from over.”

The other Sentinels quickly reconvene around you as you climb to your feet.

Gwen: “Rookie! Goodness, are you alright?”

“I’m alright, thanks to Shen.”

“Still shaking, but otherwise fine.”

Viego: “You think you are safe? None of you shall escape my grasp!”

Suddenly, you notice several giant crabs erupting the sand around you, their eyes flickering with the ghastly light of Ruination.

Senna: “This isn’t working! Sentinels, I’m calling a tactical retreat! We can’t fight Viego AND the damn beach at the same time! Rookie, get us out of here!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you raise the Wayfinder and let its light wash over you just as the crabs begin to close in. In an instant, you and your allies vanish, leaving Viego alone with Lillia on the harrowed beach.

Lillia: “Oh dear. They got away, sir…”

Viego takes the flower from her grasp and sniffs it longingly.

Viego: “No matter. I am one step closer to realizing my dream, little fawn. Come, let us resume our search elsewhere.”

Viego turns and walks away into the Black Mist with Lillia behind him, leaving a Ruined Ionia in his wake.

Back as Sentinel headquarters, you breath a sigh of relief to have narrowly escaped the Ruined King.

Senna and Olaf: “DAMN IT!”

Senna: “We almost had him!”

Olaf: “I almost had my glorious death!”

Riven: So that was the Ruined King… I can’t believe he has that much power.”

Vayne: “He didn’t the last time we faced him. Somehow, that monster’s gotten even stronger.”

Gwen: “Goodness, are you alright, Rookie? That was quite fright!”

“Honestly, I’m still shaking a little.”

“Y-yeah, I’m t-totally fine!”

Shen: “Overcoming fear is the first step to attaining inner balance.”

Everyone: “…”

Senna: “Hang on, how do you get here?”

Shen: “The same way you all did, naturally.”

Shen gestures to the Wayfinder.

“Oh, guess he got caught in the light too. My bad.”

“Huh. I, uh, totally meant to bring you back with us too.”

Shen: “I am here because Balance wills it.”

Riven: “Hang on, are you saying that…”

Shen: “I… Was not strong enough to defeat this imbalance on my own. Ionia has been consumed by darkness, but its spirit has not yet been wholly subsumed. I will do all that I must to preserve it, even allying with your order.”

Vayne: “You want to be a Sentinel? I guess we could do worse, though I don’t know if one ninja will make that much of a difference.”

Gwen: “Oh, another new addition to the team! How wonderful! Please, come with me, and we’ll get you fitted right away!”

You all watch as Shen departs with Gwen, emerging moments later with his new Sentinel attire.

Gwen: “Tadaa! I present to you: Sentinel Shen!”

You can’t help but note that her display lacks the same level of enthusiasm as usual, but opt not to comment on it.

Shen: “It is an honor to fight alongside you.”

Lucian: “Right… Well, let’s get you sworn in, I guess.” (But after that, we’re all gonna need to rethink our plan.)

[missymallow]

Drarry: Alternate Universe

---

"That's Damianos?" 

Merlin's beard, but the sight of the Crown Prince of Akielos managed to make Draco’s jaw hung loose; he can't help but gaped in an unattractive way, far from his aristocratic mannerism. Damianos was a big, strong man with broad shoulders, and a muscular body that Draco was certain they were not only for display. He just knows this man possessed inhuman strength. Salazar, just look at those thighs! 

Draco dragged his eyes hungrily all over the exposed olive skin. It was not his fault for taking advantage when the man was literally wearing a drape of cloth to cover his body. A chiton, was what Laurent has told him earlier.

Speaking of the said man, Draco immediately turned his head to the left, unfazed when he received a venomous glare from the beautiful pair of blue eyes. Instead, he gave the man a sly grin of his own; pleased that he managed to rile up the cold-blooded beauty. Even so, if he must say, the golden haired Prince was actually a pleasant company to be with - once they have managed to put their differences behind, that is. Not that they were any to begin with, it was rather gratifying to know that they were alike in many aspects.

"Hit a nerve?" asked Draco. 

"I'd rather not having you devour him with your eyes." answered Laurent coolly.

Draco can't help it, he laughed. "Ah, but you see, I don't mind if he wants to maul me. I am sure he's a beast in bed."

"Draco." Laurent warned.

"Laurent." said Draco, amused.

He would like to tease more, but the Crown Prince and his troops have already stopped right in front of them and Draco immediately put up his own Malfoy mask; back straightened up to make him taller, chin lifted to show his long pale neck, face devoid of emotions at the same time he made sure that he looked approachable yet reserved.

He stood next to Laurent, observed as Damianos greeted King Aleron and Crown Prince Auguste with warmth and politeness. They talked, and shared a few smiles and hugs before the man move and stand in front of Laurent with an easy grin and Draco has to suppressed an excited grin from forming.

"My Prince." Damianos greeted, bowing down as he took Laurent's hand in his and kiss his knuckles softly.

Draco discreetly sneaked a hand to clutch on Laurent's free hand, squeezing the life out of him to show his excitement and almost giggles when he received an equally strong squeeze back.

"Damianos." said Laurent, aloof. Draco would rolled his eyes if not for the mask he has put on. This man was just as bad as he was when it comes to the man they harboured feelings with. Alas, at least Laurent was betrothed to the man he was in love with, while Draco? Not even a recognition was received on his part.

He casted down his eyes to calm down, forcing out the grief that was creeping in his heart. It was ridiculous, but he really miss him. As pathetic as it sounds. 

When he dragged his eyes back up, he almost yelped in surprise to see the brown eyes of the Crown Prince was already bore to him. He covered it up by offering a polite smile and a small bow of his head.

Damianos blinked, running his eyes up to Draco’s hair down to his Veretian shoes and up to meet his eyes before he changed his gaze to Laurent, appraising him with the same manner. He formed a small frown as his eyes moved back and forth between the two of them, as if not sure as how to comprehend the situation. It took a few moments when Damianos settled on Laurent, tilting his head a bit as he asked; "Your… pet?"

Draco narrowed his eyes in an instant, noticed how Laurent's corner lips quirk up to form a smirk from his peripheral view. He pressed his lips together, holding back as not to hex this enormous man in front of him to the next Sunday. How dare he equated Draco with a slave? Unforgivable.

"How eloquent." said Draco, words burst out his mouth before he can even stopped it. Laurent was openly smirking now, apparently entertained to see the astonishment look upon Damianos' face.

"He is a distant cousin of mine." said Laurent, easily. "Draco of Vere."

"D-Draco?" Damianos took a step back, as if he was slapped and Draco shared a look with Laurent. 

"Are you by any chance, Draco Malfoy?" asked Damianos, nonplussed. 

Draco immediately perk up at that, as he unconsciously took a step forward to matched Damianos. "How in Merlin's beard did you know my name?" 

Aristocratic mannerisms put aside, but apart from Laurent, no one knows that he was accidentally travelled to another universe. Therefore, how?

Damianos eyes widened with a wonderment before he abruptly turned around and waved his hand up as he called, "Nikandros!"

Said man immediately nodded in understatement when Damianos gave him a signal, and pointed out to far down their troops. Damianos grinned, turning back to them only to grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him forward. 

Draco yelped, other hand automatically grasped on Laurent's finger to drag him along.

Damianos lead them to their troops, much to everyone's confusion but he marched forward in determination and his men quickly parted their way when they got closer. The ruckus was loud enough to catch the attention of a man who currently engrossed in the foreign view of Arles, and Draco gasped, heart pounding hard against his ribcage because right there; with his unmistakable lighting scar and green eyes, complete with his own chiton,

Was Harry Potter himself.

---

Honestly, I have never read Captive Prince but I can't help but saw the resemblance. I just need a crossover? lmao cheers x

[tartagilicious]

my title for this doc is ‘this is for hypnos you big fat white nasty smellin fat bitch’ // w.c: 1091 // requested by @jewelwayne101​:

I discovered you through the oneshot of victor comforting MC when she doesnt want to cry and it was amazing! Im relatively late to MLQC and had went on youtube watching everything and in the newest chapters my heart is heavy and dead from my two favourite bois (Gavin and Victor) not remembering MC. Could you do a scenario of MC with Gav and Vic (separately) her trying to jog their memories desperately and says a certain word or line that makes them remember something about them? Sorry it's long. 

[rewrite… if I can by ailee] 

—

i don’t want us to be strangers again.

the people I cherish, holding such a dear place in my memory, will never be cast aside. I had thought the decision was unanimous, obvious, even, but with the way they look at me now — I know something went wrong along the way.

But, that’s just how it is. There are no traces of my existence in this winter world; not in my company, not in my friends, not even in them. I have to force myself to be wary of familiar faces — of the people who’d done nothing but help me in the past, yet know nothing of me now.

Victor was one of the first people I encountered. The cold-hearted man I’d grown to entrust my life to remained mostly unchanged not minding my existence. But I could see the way he looked at me. I knew it was different, but I had no idea it would affect me so much.

I miss the warm affection in his eyes, how ever much it may have contradicted his fiery tongue. Just knowing I may never see it again saddens me.

“...You aren’t being serious are you?”

I remember the words that came out of my mouth clear as day in that intersection. Said with every ounce of emotion I could fit into them, I was sure that it would resonate with something inside him.

My chest deflated when he only struck me with a confused look.

“You don’t recognise me? My name is ___, you’re my boss and one of the best friends I have. You were there with me during the HBS scandal. You went ten years into the future and stopped that version of yourself from killing me!” I’m cut off by a sob rising in my throat, but hoarsely, I stubbornly keep going.

“You sat by me, holding me back while I tried to piece together a broken glass, all while whispering some of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever told me. Does none of that sound familiar?”

Victor looked uncharacteristically cool watching my tears begin to spill over, doing nothing more than offering me a few words and a pat of encouragement.

I raised my eyes to meet his, lip quivering as I said, “I would do anything for you to call me a dummy right now. For falling for such a... stupid, and childish prank.”

Victor was silent as I wiped away my tears, but even then, I didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed. Whether with recognition or annoyance, I was afraid to know, but then he finally spoke.

“I should call you a dummy.” He nodded, seemingly in agreement with my out of pocket statement. “That somehow.. feels right for you.”

Things have changed.

The concept finally settled in my brain, though albeit uncomfortably, when I found myself pinned to a wall of an alleyway some days later.

I cried out as Gavin applied more pressure to my wrists, an inch away from moulding them into the concrete. Unlike Victor, I could barely garner the courage to look Gavin in the eye -- he was acting nothing like I’ve seen, defensive and unrestrained as opposed to his usual friendly yet diligent personality.

“Why are you following me?”

I winced and squeezed my eyes shut when his grip tightened in my silence, a meek sound escaping me that surely meant nothing to that Gavin.

“...How could you ask me that?” I whispered hesitantly, not daring to open my eyes to his reaction. “Please stop… you’re hurting me.”

He didn’t move any further, but I knew it didn’t go over his head.

“Don’t make me ask twice. Who are you, and why are you following me?”

I realised I had a decision to make. Victor was a special case, but say anything out of line around Gavin or the rest, and I could very well end up either captured or dead. I could still offer them a bit to jog their memory-I could never skip attempting-but I would have to be smart about it.

So, I took a deep breath and forced one eye open. Gavin was very close to me, but his eyes have no semblance of the affection this distance would normally require. He looked unharacteristically impatient.

“...My name is ___.” I start slowly, gauging his reaction carefully before looking him in the eye.

“I went to highschool with you -- I was the year below you. I met you again when you applied with the STF to oversee me and transferred back to Loveland.”

Gavin only listened, so I took that as my opportunity to pepper in some more recent things.

“We used to look after Perry together. You always fly over to my apartment to pick up the meals I make you. You saved me from falling from a building, from being shot in the head, bleeding out on the side of the road, and god knows how many other things--”

“Stop.” He commanded. The dangerous look in his eyes had diminished considerably, but was not gone. Part of me wanted to say that I noticed a reminiscent look swimming around somewhere, but I didn’t want to hurt myself with anymore lies.

“Do you happen to work in the media?”

I perked up, suddenly hopeful. “Yes! I’m a producer, but how did you know? Do you remember me?”

“No. You just talk a lot.”

I resisted a groan. That definitely isn’t something I’m used to hearing come out of Gavin’s mouth.

“Just let me go, then.” I said bitterly, wiggling without thinking too hard about it. “If you don’t know me, then please, don’t waste any more of my time.”

I have other people to find.

Gavin eyed me curiously. I stopped moving for a second and couldn’t help but give him an exasperated look.

“Gavin--”

He interjects. “I’m not wasting your time. Don’t you think I’m here for a reason? Don’t give up so easily.”

“..What?” My brows knit delicately, confusion evident in my gaze.

Gavin blinks, and in an instant, he seems just as caught off guard as I am.

“It… just seemed like the right thing to say.”

Fate works in mysterious ways. From ending up in a world where I don’t exist to flipped personalities, I still prefer to think that everything is happening for a reason rather than the alternative. But, whether or not destruction is imminent, that isn’t up to fate, and that will never change. With my own hand, I will rewrite this world.

[irwen-s]

08

wenrene / hybrid au (bunny!joohyun)

given prompt: in the first few weeks of bringing joohyun home, seungwan has to step out real quick to run an errand while joohyun was sleeping. when she wakes up to an empty house, she hesitantly tries to explore her surroundings, becoming a little more brave with each step bc she has the house to herself. When she spots something that piques her interest, she gets excited, but in her excitement she actually knocks something over and breaks it. Seungwan comes home to a broken item with joohyun nowhere to be seen. When she finds her, joohyun is anxious af. Seungwan is patient and joohyun eventually (but timidly) goes to seungwan and nudges her forehead against Seungwan’s bc this is how bunnies apologize to each other. She doesn’t say a word, her tears are enough for  seungwan to understand

—

trigger warning: mentions of blood, but not explicit.

when joohyun wakes up, the first thing she becomes aware of is that she’s alone.

cold fear washes over her for a few heavy seconds as she stiffens up in anxiety, but the tension slowly leaves her body once she begins to take notice of her surroundings.

for one, the tv in her room is on and playing at a low volume when she knows it hadn’t been when she’d dozed off. and the blankets she’d gone to bed with tucked loosely over herself are now swaddling her up warmly. 

it makes it a little difficult for joohyun to completely disentangle herself from the blankets wrapped around her, even with her small frame wriggling around. she eventually gives up, instead sitting up from the bed with a small, sleepy huff. 

her eyes immediately land on a familiar stuffed animal squirrel perched on her nightstand, and the sight makes her smile for the first time since waking. that definitely hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep. it makes it obvious who placed it there.

there’s a sheet of paper in the squirrel’s arms with a picture of something. joohyun has to lean back in order for the image to become less blurry for her, but once she does, she sees that it’s a very neatly done sketch of the telephone in the living room. a red circle is drawn around one of the buttons. 

slowly, joohyun crawls out of bed, dragging along with her one of the blankets still wrapped around her frame. she takes the paper and the squirrel with her too, hugging the latter to her chest and absentmindedly nosing into its fur, breathing in its soothingly familiar scent as she carefully steps out of her room.

the wooden floors for once feel cold beneath her feet, and joohyun’s ears twitch from under the blanket at how silent the hallway is. she darts her eyes over the rest of the doors near her, notes how they’re all closed. her grip on the stuffed animal tightens.

slowly, hesitantly, joohyun pads down the hallway. the house is eerily silent save for the sounds of her footsteps echoing against the floor. 

emerging into the living room, joohyun sighs quietly in relief; the open space is much more preferable, much more homely and inviting even when devoid of people. when she glances toward the corner of the room, the corner of her lips twitch upward upon spotting yet another familiar stuffed animal seated next to the telephone.

there is also a piece of paper in the toy bunny’s arms: a simple, red arrow points down at the same button the first paper has circled. joohyun adds both items to her armload of papers and stuffed animals, nose buried in the bunny’s pelt, before tentatively pressing down on it.

a few beeps from the telephone cause her to startle back a step, but then suddenly a voice is speaking up, and joohyun’s ears perk up in instant recognition. 

“hey, hyunnie, this is wannie speaking! if you’re hearing this message it probably means you woke up and followed all the clues into the living room. sorry about that if i scared you, by the way! i just didn’t know how else to tell you this without waking you up. i didn’t want to leave a note either since i wasn’t sure it would be easy to read. 

“did you have a nice nap, hyun? you were sleeping so peacefully, i hope you were dreaming about something good. did you know your nose twitches in your sleep? it’s really cute to see, hyunnie.”

at this, joohyun feels her cheeks pinkening. she buries her face further into the stuffed animals in her arms.

“okay, i’m getting too sidetracked. i think you might have noticed already, but mom and dad aren’t home right now, so you’re the only one left in the house at the moment. i had to leave to go buy some stuff for dinner since mom texted me saying she forgot a few things.

“i don’t know what she’s planning on making, but i’m gonna buy some tteokbokki for her to make as an apology for having us all leave you alone at home. but you can get something from the kitchen if you’re hungry, hyunnie. and you know how to call any of us if there’s an emergency. 

“i think that’s it. i swear i’ll be back soon, okay? i left around two o’clock, i should be back in about an hour. just sit tight for now. i’ll be home in a bit, hyun.”

the message ends with a click, leaving joohyun standing in the silence of the living room. for a few moments she doesn’t move, breathing absentmindedly into the toy bunny’s fur. her own ears twitch atop her head, peeking out from beneath her blanket and listening for any telltale signs of life in the house. but there’s nothing. she truly is alone. 

a weird sort of tingling excitement shoots through her, prickling the tips of her fingers and toes. on the balls of her feet, she slowly swivels around in a circle, taking in her surroundings once again. 

the thing is, it’s only been a few weeks since seungwan brought her home here. even as the house has become completely familiar to her, there’s an entirely different feeling in the walls now that there is no one else around. she’s a little scared, but her curiosity to explore is quickly overpowering that. 

besides, she thinks, clutching the bunny and squirrel closer to her. she’s not actually that alone after all. 

with a little gleeful hop in her step, joohyun begins to pad deeper into the house.

—

the front door swings open as seungwan steps inside, bags of groceries gripped in one hand. “hyun, i’m home,” seungwan sings, toeing her shoes off in the doorway. its only after she’s tucked them neatly in the shoe rack and locked the door behind her that she realizes the house is dead silent, and there is no bunny hybrid in sight.

a concerned frown adorns seungwan’s face, but she moves into the kitchen to sort the groceries into the fridge. “maybe she’s still asleep,” seungwan mumbles to herself. 

once she’s finished, seungwan steps back into the living room, only to freeze once she spots the mess of broken shards scattered across the floor. she immediately recognizes them as the remains of one of her mom’s prized statues she’d brought back from one of her travels. was it of an elephant? seungwan can’t remember, there’s honestly too many. 

her rambling thoughts come to a screeching halt though, once she spots the drops of blood amidst the mess. 

“shit,” seungwan hisses in alarm, immediately surging into motion. “joohyun? joohyun!” 

panic overtakes her for a few seconds as seungwan calls loudly into the hallways for the missing hybrid, worry climbing in her stomach and causing her insides to twist in fear. her heart hammers loudly in her chest, and her ears roar with a whistling noise.

“joohyun!” seungwan calls again, before she’s cut off by a yelp of surprise as she nearly trips. when she looks down, the blank marble eyes of a stuffed bunny gaze back up at her from the ground. a dark smear of red stains its faux white fur. 

all at once, seungwan shudders to a stop, pressing her palms against her thighs to still their trembling. she hadn’t been thinking. she’d forgotten. seungwan swears under her breath, breathing in and out for a few seconds before collecting herself together. 

“hyunnie?” seungwan murmurs in a quieter voice as she steps into the hallway. she doesn’t miss the few drops of red scattered across the floorboards, and it makes her swallow heavily with apprehension. “hyun, it’s wannie. i’m sorry for yelling, and i’m sorry if i scared you. i was panicked, since i’m worried. i swear i’m not mad.” 

some of the doors are open, leading seungwan to venture joohyun must have been exploring on her own while she’d been gone. she takes a peek into each room regardless, door shut or not. but there’s no sign of joohyun in any of them.

the panic she’s been trying to suppress rises with every empty room she comes across, and it’s after checking joohyun’s room to see no signs of life save for the tv still murmuring at low volume that seungwan finds it harder to breathe. 

almost resignedly, seungwan clicks open the door of her own room. “hyun?” she mumbles, voice cracking hopelessly, but then falls silent upon looking at her bed, neatly made and untouched. 

quietly, seungwan steps further into the room. the soft thump of her feet against the floorboards is the only sound as she moves closer, but the air crackles with anticipation. seungwan holds her breath. 

when she rounds the edge of her bed, her eyes automatically land on the bundle of purple-spotted blanket, hunched near her nightstand. 

seungwan lets out a smalls exhale, crouching down nearby. “hyunnie,” she whispers softly, seeing the head of the blanket twitch. “it’s okay, i’m not mad.”

for a moment, everything is still, and seungwan bites her lip nervously. but then she hears a quiet sniffle, before the blanket begins to tremble. 

seungwan’s heart breaks. 

“hyun,” she coaxes again, voice low and gentle. “hyun, i’m right here. it’s okay, baby.” 

slowly, tentatively, the edge of the blanket lifts, and seungwan comes face to face with joohyun’s teary face, her bunny ears drooped and her nose running messily. upon meeting seungwan’s eyes, she begins to cry even harder.

“oh, hyunnie,” seungwan whispers, moving forward to carefully pull joohyun into her arms. joohyun lets out a choked sob but offers no resistance, trembling against seungwan with her face tucked into the side of her neck. seungwan sits down completely, quietly rocking the little bundle in her lap and murmuring soft reassurances, letting joohyun cry it out.

“i’m so sorry for yelling, hyun, i didn’t mean to scare you,” seungwan says softly, rubbing joohyun’s back through the blanket. she hears joohyun hiccup wetly over her shoulder, struggling to breathe, and she reaches a hand up to begin gently rubbing the base of joohyun’s bunny ears where they meet her head. the action immediately causes joohyun to shudder from sensitivity and exhale shakily, slumping bonelessly against seungwan’s chest. 

with each light stroke to joohyun’s delicate ears, a wheezing, stuttered gasp leaves her; seungwan doesn’t stop though, and gradually her breathing begins to calm, body tremors lessening. she can feel the little white hairs beneath her fingers quiver at every touch, joohyun’s ears twitching and so visibly responsive, drooping pliantly under her hand. 

“that’s it, hyunnie, just relax,” seungwan murmurs gently, soothingly, as joohyun shudders and sighs helplessly into her shoulder, hiccuping every few breaths. “i’ve got you, baby, you’re okay.” 

she continues rubbing around the base of joohyun’s ears, occasionally scratching lightly at her head, until joohyun begins to emit a noise between a squeak and a purr, and that’s when seungwan knows she’s reached the state of peak calmness, her frazzled mind now fuzzy with pure sensation. seungwan smiles for the first time since she’s arrived home, relieved.

carefully leaning back, she eases joohyun away from her chest to take a look at her face. her hand falls from joohyun’s ears to cradle her jaw, gently stroking over the tear tracks on her cheek. joohyun’s eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, stare tiredly back at her. 

seungwan gives a small, comforting smile, leaning forward until her nose bumps against joohyun’s. a moment later she feels the hybrid nuzzling back with a breathy sigh, her eyes slipping shut.

when seungwan finally pulls away, joohyun reluctantly following, she moves her gaze down to where joohyun’s hands clutch loosely at the hem of her shirt. there’s dried blood splotched along her fingers as well as her clothes, particularly darker patches of red staining the blanket where joohyun must have clutched onto. 

seungwan sucks in a quiet breath, tenderly cradling joohyun’s hands in her own. there are cuts along the pads of her fingers, some blood still oozing out of them. “you tried to clean them up,” she whispers in realization, her chest twisting painfully. “oh, hyun.” 

joohyun whimpers nervously in response, and seungwan traces her thumb behind the shell of her human ear, cooing softly until her nerves settle down again. gently, seungwan maneuvers the hybrid around in her lap as she continues to inspect joohyun for further injuries. she finds a few cuts along her knees and ankles, which makes her heart ache at the thought of joohyun dragging herself through the house while bleeding and injured. 

seungwan reaches over to her nightstand to grab a few tissues. “lets get you cleaned up, okay?” she murmurs, dabbing at joohyun’s cheeks. joohyun only nods against her hand, meekly avoiding her gaze. 

she’ll have to do something about that later, seungwan thinks absentmindedly with a frown, seeing the way joohyun keeps ducking her head away. but right now she has to focus on treating those wounds. 

“i’m gonna have to pick you up, hyun,” seungwan says apologetically as she cradles joohyun to her chest, still partly bundled up in her blanket. the hybrid reaches for her shirt before quickly yanking her hands back with a small whimper, clutching onto her blanket instead. seungwan gives her a concerned, tender look. “i don’t mind, hyunnie. the bloodstains don’t matter.” 

with one arm supporting joohyun’s back and the other beneath her knees, seungwan carefully gets to her feet, and joohyun reflexively grabs onto her with a squeak of fear. seungwan hums soothingly, taking care to move with slow steps as she carries them to the door.

“does it hurt?” seungwan asks quietly as she pads down the hallway. she feels joohyun shake her head against her chest, and seungwan tightens her grip with a little, wry quirk of her lips. “liar.”

joohyun only responds with a breathy noise. 

when they reach the restroom, seungwan carefully sets joohyun down on the counter, brushing the hair back from her face with a soft smile. “i know you don’t like voicing your pain,” seungwan says understandingly, “but it’s okay if it hurts, all right?” 

joohyun looks back up at her, quiet and seemingly resigned. eventually her gaze shifts to the side with a little nod. seungwan leans in to press a light kiss against her nose. “lets do your legs first.”

she washes her hands, then helps joohyun run her ankles and knees beneath lukewarm water from the sink. joohyun doesn’t make a noise the entire time, but seungwan is pressed close enough against her back to feel her stiffen, hear her breath catching in her throat when seungwan rinses her wounds with soap. 

“it stings, baby, i know,” seungwan murmurs against her temple. joohyun doesn’t show any indication to having heard her.

seungwan finally turns the tap off, grabbing a nearby towel to dab at the cuts as they begin to ooze blood again. she feels joohyun lean her head against her shoulder, nosing along the crook of her neck and breathing quietly against her as she presses down on each injury to stop the bleeding. 

petroleum jelly follows after, applied carefully with a cotton swab, and then seungwan covers the wounds up with bandaids. she considered using purple ones, but then thought against it and just picked out the plain ones.

“done,” seungwan breathes as she straightens her back, rubbing joohyun’s shoulder soothingly. “fingers next. you’re okay, hyunnie?” 

she feels joohyun nod against her neck, but when seungwan tries to pull away to look at her, the hybrid follows her movements to stick close to her. 

seungwan sighs fondly, giving joohyun a light scratch behind the ear. “all right then.”

the whole process repeats for joohyun’s hands, and seungwan remains just as attentive and careful, but she’s realizing something is different when a muffled noise manages to escape from where joohyun’s face is buried against her. the cuts on joohyun’s fingers are deeper, more serious, seungwan knows. she tries to move a little faster.

its just after seungwan finishes washing joohyun’s fingers that she feels wetness against neck, making seungwan still with the towel in her hand. “it’s okay, baby,” she murmurs gently, hugging joohyun closer with her other arm. “i know. let it out, it’s okay.”

joohyun sniffles quietly against her neck, nosing along her skin as seungwan carefully dries her fingers. there’s a small hiss when seungwan has to squeeze her thumb when the cut there bleeds more than the others, and seungwan presses a soothing kiss to the top of joohyun’s head, conveying in it all the sympathy that she can. 

when seungwan is finished, there are bandaids taped around almost all of joohyun’s fingertips. she breathes a sigh of relief before clutching joohyun’s shoulders and gently pushing. reluctantly, joohyun moves back.

there are tears wetting her cheeks again, of course, but seungwan only smiles softly, doesn’t comment as she grabs a nearby tissue to wipe them away. “my hyun,” seungwan coos. “so strong.”

joohyun closes her eyes, a few more tears slipping out as she exhales shakily. seungwan is about to bend away to get another tissue when joohyun leans forward so that her forehead touches seungwan’s. immediately, seungwan stills. 

for a few breaths of silence, the two of them remain pressed against one another, seungwan standing between joohyun’s knees. her eyes are open, gazing with gentle understanding at joohyun’s closed ones, watching another tear slide down her cheek as her lips quiver almost imperceptibly. 

“it’s okay,” seungwan murmurs softly, tucking a stray hair behind joohyun’s ear. “there’s nothing to forgive, darling. accidents happen.”

when joohyun finally pulls away, she won’t meet her eyes. instead, she clutches at seungwan’s hands, neatly bandaged fingertips brushing against her own. “thank you,” she whispers hoarsely, voice scratchy and raw.

seungwan pulls joohyun into her arms again, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head. her heart feels warm, content, at ease. “of course, hyunnie.”

[leviathan-dee]

You’re All I Have Left

(Some more self indulgent oneshots, this time about arguments turned into promises. Vergil x Lady cause you know ya girl likes that pairing a whole lot)

Word Count: 1,247

There was one type of devotion Lady never wanted from her beloved; The utterance of "sacrifice" tugging at Vergil's lips.

Read on AO3

Lady brushed her fringe away from her forehead, casually swiping the droplets of sweat alongside her espresso locks. It was a strange, tempestuous day for the walking arsenal, the sting of reopened wounds still fresh in her mind. It seemed that she could never agree on one thing with her unlikely beloved. One thing that ached, and could never heal. One tiny, stupid, thing.

She sat cross legged opposite the blue devil, twiddling her thumbs in annoyance. Or was it dejection? She could not tell. Admittedly, Lady was expecting a response from Vergil. Some form of apology, perhaps even recognition that the argument did happen, and it wasn’t some fever dream that she had thought up. Vergil simply sat on the couch, his leg perched across his knee, with his Blake anthology in hand. He appeared to be peaceful and nonchalant as ever.

Normally, she would let things like this slide, knowing his stand-offish personality was not something to be rivaled with. However, as she leaned forward with her hand pressing against her ankle, her knuckles turning porcelain from the sheer force of the angered squeeze, Lady could barely hold the tumultuous storm of emotions brewing within.

“Vergil Sparda. Talk to me.” Lady caught even herself off-guard with her venomous tone, the rage filling her chest to the brim. Undoubtedly, Vergil’s quizzical, yet somewhat unreadable expression, made Lady’s anger boil searing hot.

“What is there to talk about?” His tone soft, he shut the book with one swift movement, running his gloved hand through the arctic locks. He continued to stare at the woman before him, knowing full well why she was upset.

“Are you serious right now? After all you’ve said?” The liquid sorrow began to well up in her eyes, her throat closing up from the nauseating anxiety of his past words. She was strong however, forcing the tears to sink back like a lingering, low tide.

The devil inhaled deeply, letting his beloved’s sweet scent fill his senses. The few months that had passed from their first amorous exchange of body heat, he could never get rid of the high her presence caused. It seemed almost inevitable that two scarred souls would have such an instant and magnetic attraction. Though, inevitably, there would always be fractures between these souls. Both traumatised in their own way, they would grasp onto each other with their dying breaths, whether it meant tearing each other apart in the process.

Thus, these cursed arguments surfaced. These… disagreements.

With a feline grace, Vergil knelt before Lady, lacing his fingers with hers. The tender cradling of her palm against his caused her breath to hitch. As the moments passed, Vergil’s eyes scanned over her features, admiring her dilating pupils as her own eyes trailed across Vergil’s features. They both lingered in their spots, unsure of the next step. Whether it was the bursting adoration they both felt, or the sheer unbridled rage at each other’s words that paused any action, they moved not a single muscle.

It took almost an entire minute of silence, of tense analysis of the situation, for the blue devil to finally bring himself to say these words.

“What I said was true. And I will not retract that statement. You matter to me. Beyond words. Beyond what you can imagine. Every moment I spend with you is a blessing so phenomenal, I would rend the very Earth to spend my last waking moments with you, just so I could experience your ardent love one last time;” Vergil brought Lady’s knuckles to his lips, trailing chaste kisses across her delicate skin, before resuming with a soft sigh, “that means, if there ever comes a time where your life is in danger, know that I will be there to take the final blow.” As these words rained down from his lips like delicate rose petals, his voice barely a whisper, a ghost of a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He wanted nothing more, but to keep her safe. Keep all he cared about in his clutch. Away from danger. Away from death.

The tears seemed to only resurface in Lady’s eyes. In love’s wake, hurt was just as strong an emotion as adoration, for offering up one’s life for another is what transcendent love appeared to be. Lady had experienced so much loss in her four decades of existence, the thought of losing another was unfathomable. And yet, here Vergil was, offering his last dying breath so she could breath a million more. Grasping at his cheek, gentle in her movements, Lady pressed an amorous kiss to his jawline, lingering a little longer than needed with the touch. Their closeness seemed to turn into a gentle embrace, her fingers cradling the back of his head as he planted kisses along her collar bone.

“I don’t want your sacrifice, Vergil. I want you.” Her melodic voice caused Vergil’s ears to perk up. Even in hardship, she resembled a skylark, pouring love from her lips. That was all Vergil needed to hear, to draw her closer into his embrace. He squeezed her tightly, holding onto her like it was his last moment with his beloved.

“Mary…” 

“Ever since the Temen-Ni-Gru, that moment on the tower haunted me. My father’s face, his last words. They followed me everywhere I went. I lost everything I cared about, by my own hands;” Her breath hitched, sorrow escaping like waves of the roaring sea, “I don’t want to lose you too, Vergil. You’re all I have left.” She cradled him protectively, burying her face in his arctic silver hair. It was an almost mothering instinct, her fingers grasping at the tufts of his hair, locking him in place so he would not leave.

You’re all I have left.

This was a phrase they both understood well. The decades being less than kind, taking away all that was precious to them. But not this time. They would fight against what life would throw at them, their beloved at their backs. They would fight with a fervour against countless hardships to hold each other close. Be it man, demon, or a simple disagreement; They would be ready.

“Promise me, you will never leave.” Lady’s voice shook under the pressure of a soft sob, unable to control the brewing bittersweetness any longer. As she let go of the back of his head, Vergil lifted his gaze up to hers. Two doll-like eyes filled with tears, one a viridian green, the other a deep amaranth shade, stared back at him. They were expectant, desperate. He could not hold back his adoration for the woman he just embraced, craning his neck up to place a devoted kiss upon the bridge of her nose where a ghost of a scar lay.

How could he not fulfil something so virtuous? What monster would deny this bewitching creature something so innocent?

“Only if you can say the same.” He exhaled, cradling her chin so she could meet his gaze. Slowly, his softened visage turned into that of deep thought. His brow furrowed, awaiting her answer. Locking her eyes with his, she inhaled deeply.

“I promise.”

“Then so do I,” as his eyes trailed down, he began planting desperate, hungry kisses against her lips, murmuring against her mouth, “I promise.”

Upon hearing his voice, she returned his kisses with a fierce ardour.

You’re all I have left.

But I’m glad you have me.

We have each other.

[wildwarcat]

Okay, I caved in to my own personal peer pressure and decided to post the first chapter of Warhawk. If you’ve got questions, or just wanna chat because you’re slowly slipping into madness due to social distancing, shoot me a message!

Words: 4k 

Warnings: Fluff, partial nudity, maybe some cussin’

Prologue 

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The Reunion

"If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown. But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

New Orleans, Louisiana, May 1995

Had I known what events would transpire over the course of the following twenty-four hours, I would have had less to drink at my usual watering hole. Not that it made a difference. After the crash in 1989, I found that I was physically incapable of ever getting drunk again. What a horrible way to grieve... sober, that is. Had it not been for my level of clearance at S.H.I.E.L.D., I never would have known the details surrounding the crash, the details regarding why Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. was terminated. Lawson was dead, her body recovered at the site. But Carol...

Carol was nowhere to be found. There was no evidence of a body at the crash. We were forced to believe that when Lawson's light speed engine exploded... we were forced to believe that her body disintegrated on contact as a result of the blast. Maria was given the remaining half of her dog tags, which she in turn gave to me. It sat around my neck everyday, next to mine. But it didn't do much to take away the pain, the hole in my heart that had been growing wider with each passing day over the course of six years.

"Foxtrot to Warhawk."

I pressed the comm in my ear as I flagged down the bartender and pointed at my empty beer glass, "Go ahead, Foxtrot."

"I'm gonna need you to swing by a set of coordinates not too far from your location. I've sent them to your pager."

"What for? On account of me being S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top asset, I believe I have the right to know what I'm walking in to, don't you?" I asked him with a smirk, despite the fact that he couldn't even see it.

"Well, if I told you what it was about, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

I laughed, taking a sip from my glass as I did, "All right. I'll be there in an hour. Want me to bring my briefcase?"

"And your Sunday best."

I straightened up, my light tone turning serious as I threw forty bucks down to pay off my tab, "I'm on my way."

Chugging the remainder of my lager, I grabbed my leather jacket and keys before exiting the bar, making my way toward my now rusty truck. I had been given the option of upgrading it shortly after the crash, but there were too many memories in it for me to simply let it go. I would drive that old Chevy into the ground if given the opportunity. The engine roared to life and I slammed the driver's door shut, whipping my pager off my belt. Sure enough, Fury had sent me a set of coordinates along with the message, 'Look for the jet parked out front.'

I pulled out a map from my glove compartment and tracked down where I needed to be pretty quickly before throwing the truck in reverse and speeding out of the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finding the place that Fury wanted me to go wasn't that hard. It was what came after I got there that made things interesting. When I put my truck in park outside of a small house not far from the Louisiana bayou, I immediately went to my truck bed and pulled out a large steel trunk. Having enhanced strength certainly had its perks because with one arm, I was able to carry one hundred and fifty pounds of reinforced steel without trouble to the front door.

Not knowing what was on the other side, I decided to give a S.H.I.E.L.D. approved code through the door.

Knock... knock, knock, knock... knock... knock, knock.

The door swung open wide, revealing Nick Fury. His left eye had been patched up, looked like it had been cut just above his brow, and he looked exhausted, but aside from that, he seemed okay.

"What happened to you?" I asked him, "I thought you were in California."

"It's a long story." He sighed, "You brought your stuff, right?"

"Everything's here." I replied, lifting the trunk a bit higher. Fury stepped aside and let me in, but stopped me before I could go any further into the house.

"There's something you need to know, Mac." He said quietly, his tone serious. I arched a brow at him and took a hesitant step back.

"Then tell me."

"That pilot you told me about, the one who died in a crash six years ago. Her name was Carol Danvers, wasn't it?"

My expression faltered, went from steely to heartbroken and back in an instant, "Yeah. And I thought I told you to never bring it up. So why are we talking about it?"

"Well, that's the thing. Turns out-"

Someone stepped into the hallway, well, multiple someones did. What I saw sent my head spinning. There was Maria Rambeau, standing with her daughter, Monica, now twelve years old. And there with them...

"That's impossible." I breathed, my voice cracking uncharacteristically, "You're dead."

But she wasn't. Standing there right before my eyes was Carol Danvers, still stunningly beautiful, still as fiery as an F-15 afterburner. But there was something different about the way she was looking back at me. It was as though she didn't recognize me at all, as if I was a stranger to her. Then something seemed to click, and recognition flooded her beautiful brown eyes.

"Paige?" She asked gently, her voice like music to my ears. I set my trunk down and opened the front door, motioning for her to follow me outside. She did, and as soon as we were far enough away that I was certain no one would see or hear us, I turned around to face her again.

"How are you alive?" I asked her angrily, tears stinging the backs of my eyes, "I saw the photos of the crash, there's no way you could have survived!"

She took a step toward me, reached out to set a hand on my shoulder, but I slunk back, wanting to keep my distance from... whoever this imposter had to be.

"Lawson and I both survived the crash. We were shot down by a Kree ship; they're an alien race hellbent on getting their hands on Lawson's lightspeed tech. They killed Lawson and kidnapped me."

The more she spoke the less I believed. Every word that tumbled out of her mouth just added to the insanity.

"How can you expect me to believe that?" I demanded, my hand drifting to the pistol attached to my belt, "How can you possibly expect me to believe anything you say?"

"Then ask me something." She begged, tears welling up in her own eyes, "Ask me something only I would know."

I took a shaky breath and drew my pistol, "Tell me about the night we first kissed."

She paused, looking as though she was searching for the memory, her eyes drifting toward the ground. I wrapped my index finger around the trigger. Then her eyes shot up to meet mine.

"We were at your place after karaoke night at Pancho's. Maria had gone home early because her babysitter bailed on her, so it was just the two of us. We were standing on the front porch of your house and we were both drunk off our asses, but we still managed to remember every single detail when we woke up the next morning. After I kissed you, I said, 'I've never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as I've wanted to kiss you.' And then you kissed me."

I had never told anyone about that night... not even Maria, not even Nick. It was really her. My entire body tensed, I dropped my gun and let the water works run.

"Carol?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her own cheeks as she began to smile. I strode over to her, my arms snaking around her, her hands making their way around my waist. Time seemed to speed up as we stood there, holding tightly onto each other, both of us fighting the urge to kiss each other. It wasn't until Maria called us both back inside that we finally separated, though that didn't stop Carol from keeping her hand in mine the entire walk back to the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So let me see if I've got this straight." I said, recapping the events that had just been described to me, "After you shot Lawson's light speed engine, you absorbed the radiating energy from the blast and got kidnapped by the Kree. On their home planet you were given a blood transfusion which makes you a human/Kree hybrid. And after being kidnapped by the Skrulls, including this guy over here," I pointed at the Skrull, who had introduced himself as Talos, "You ended up back on Earth with no recollection of your past life. Then you managed to break into Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S., escape S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, realize that the Kree are actually the bad guys and regain your memories. And now, you're asking me to go with you into space in order to find Lawson- sorry, Mar-Vell's lab, where she hid the energy core that the Kree are after. Sound about right?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Though when I got my memories back, I definitely didn't remember you being taller than me though." Carol remarked with a lopsided smirk. She and Fury had filled me in on what had happened and why two green, monstrous-looking aliens were in the Rambeau house, but I was having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around everything. So rather than ask a million questions, I turned my attentions to Carol's comment.

"The last time I saw you physically was the day before I went in to receive the Super Soldier Serum. As soon as the procedure was over, I was sent to D.C. for S.H.I.E.L.D. training. We spoke on the phone a few times, but I never saw you again after that day. And next thing I knew, you and... Mar-Vell were both dead." Lawson's true name still didn't sound right coming out of my mouth. The look on my face made both Carol and Talos, chuckle.

"So what have you been doing then for the past six years?" Carol asked me out of genuine curiosity, "They didn't stick you behind a desk like Fury, did they?"

It was my turn to laugh, "God, no! Director Carter assigned a S.T.R.I.K.E. team to me as soon as my training was complete. I've been leading covert ops missions all over the planet for the past seven and a half years."

"Did they dress you up like Captain America?"

I narrowed my eyes at her and got up from my chair at the dining room table. The trunk I had brought in was still sitting by the front door, so I brought it into the dining room and set it down in plain view for everyone. I unlatched the lid and lifted it open, revealing a custom uniform, similar to Rogers' design. It was mainly blue, a navy blue, darker than Rogers' uniform and on the chest was a navy hawk crest set atop red and white stripes. Deep red leather gloves, matching navy pants, a utility belt and simple military combat boots completed the ensemble. I reached underneath the uniform and drew out the icing on the cake.

I don't know how Howard Stark had managed to get his hands on more vibranium and, frankly, I didn't ask. But before going out into the field, Stark had given me a vibranium shield and, aside from the hawk crest replacing a star, it was an exact replica of the original. I held it out to Monica, who had been sitting quietly, awestruck the entire time. She dipped a bit under the slight weight of the shield, but her smile went from ear to ear.

"I may be an enhanced soldier, but I'm no Captain America. They call me Warhawk." I said, turning my attention to Talos, "My job is to look out for the little guy. The ones who're stepped on and persecuted by those who believe they're superior. I'll do what I can to help you get the Kree off your tail."

"Thank you." Talos said, bowing his head slightly. The grandfather clock against the wall began to chime. It was late, midnight in fact, and going off of the original plan, we would be heading into space at dawn. We needed rest. After everyone figured out their sleeping arrangements, we bade each other goodnight. I began to make my way toward the living room couch, but a hand grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward the stairs. I smiled when I saw that it was Carol dragging me toward one of the guest rooms upstairs.

As soon as we were behind closed doors, Carol's lips crashed on to mine. My hands immediately made their way into her hair, hers around my waist. My heart soared at the contact, at the thought that Carol and I were once again reunited after all those years. Her tongue darted out, running over my lower lip, asking for entrance. I complied, and together our tongues began to swirl and dance in an elegant battle for dominance. The Nine Inch Nails t-shirt that Carol was wearing suddenly became too restricting, as did the plain navy thermal I had on. Both were gone in an instant, tattered remains on the hardwood. She certainly didn't seem to mind that I ripped her shirt in half, discarding it lazily on the floor. If anything, the passion that had been recreated between us began to burn even brighter, as a soft glow began to break through my closed eyes. I pulled away gently, my eyes opening ever so slightly.

"You're glowing." I whispered huskily. It was a sight to behold, pale rays of blue, purple and gold light danced off her skin in a stunning array of color that lit up the dark bedroom in an elegant display. From a distance, she must have given off the appearance of a fallen star, but here, up close, she was a woman on fire; radiant, beautiful, powerful.

"I've dreamt about this moment. About us." She admitted quietly, setting her head in the crook of my neck, listening closely to the sound of my steadily beating heart, "But I couldn't remember who you were. I wanted to, so badly. Even if it was just your name... that would have been enough. At least then I would have one part of my life that I could still hold on to."

"Well, if it makes up for anything, it's been hell without you here." I replied, my hands shifting down to her waist, taking note of the muscle that she had put on in the years that she had been gone, how warm her skin felt beneath the pads of my fingertips, "Not a day went by when I didn't wish you were with me. Even before the crash, not being able to see you, not being able to hold you like this... it was torture unlike any other."

"I love you, Paige." She muttered tiredly.

I smiled, leading her to the queen-sized bed and pulling back the covers. I pressed another kiss to her lips, this one gentle, sweet and loving, but still filled with passion.

"I love you too, Carol."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dawn came earlier than I had hoped. But it came nonetheless, and with it came the mission at hand. Carol was still asleep, and rather than wake her up right away, I thought it best to let her rest. My trunk was still downstairs, my uniform and shield still with it, so I grabbed a spare shirt from the nearby dresser, slipped it on and ducked downstairs without a sound. When I got down there, Talos, Fury and Maria were already awake.

"She still asleep?" Maria asked me, handing me a steaming mug of coffee.

"Of course. That much certainly hasn't changed about her." I replied, taking the mug and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl that sat on the dining room table. I turned to Fury, "So that new guy let you guys go, huh? What's his name again? Coleman?"

"Coulson." Fury corrected, "Yeah, looks like he's gonna be one hell of an agent. Already going against protocol, breaking the rules."

"Sounds like he learned from the best."

"Very funny."

"Not as funny as that time you wiped out trying to chase a couple of Soviet spies in Budapest in '91." I smirked. Fury didn't reply, he just glared at me and walked away. I polished off the coffee and the apple, grabbed my uniform and went back upstairs to change.

Sure enough, not only was Carol still asleep, but she had taken over my side of the bed, limbs sprawled out covering the entirety of the bed. I changed quickly and quietly before making my way over to her. I sat down on the bed next to her feet and shook her on the shoulder.

"You know, as adorable as you look right now, we have an entire alien race to save, so I'm gonna have to ask that you get your beautiful self out of bed."

"Fi mo ins." She grumbled into her pillow.

"Come again?"

She rolled over and groaned, "Five more minutes."

I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers, making her smile softly, "No can do, baby. We've got lives to save."

She sat up, meeting my lips lovingly on the way, then took a moment to drink in the sight before her.

"Nice outfit." She grinned, setting a hand on the hawk head on my chest, "It suits you."

"Thanks, beautiful. Now get dressed, we've gotta go."

Going to space was definitely something on my bucket list. Going to space to fight a technologically advanced race of aliens... not so much. But hey, how many opportunities was I gonna get to go to space? As I stood outside the stolen P.E.G.A.S.U.S. quadjet with Maria, Talos and Fury, who held Goose, a creature that looked like a cat, though Talos insisted she was a dangerous alien called a Flerken. I watched as Carol interacted with Monica, who had made sure to get herself out of bed before we left. She was fiddling with the color scheme of Carol's suit, before settling on the colors of the original Air Force logo.

"She's somethin', isn't she?" Fury asked me when he saw the way Carol suddenly locked eyes on me.

"Just somethin' doesn't do her justice, Fury. She's... amazing." I smiled, lifting my shield up and attaching it to the electromagnets on my back. I pulled out my Colt Mustang and checked the magazine. Six rounds, plus five additional magazines attached to my belt, perfect. Carol made her way over to the quadjet, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading the rest of us on board. We all took our seats, Maria and Carol in the pilots' chairs, Fury, Talos, Goose and I all behind them.

"Hope your science guy knows what he's doing." Fury muttered to Talos as the quadjet lifted off the ground. Talos grunted, his violet eyes staring straight ahead. After a minute or two, Carol spoke up.

"Passing five hundred and climbing."

"Maintain speed. Any change in speed will turn this old junker into a fireball in the atmosphere." I remarked, letting the familiar feeling of pressure wash over me as we climbed.

"You know you really shouldn't have that thing on your lap." Talos said to Fury, pointing at Goose who was lounging comfortably on Fury's legs.

"Our little alliance with you is tenuous at best." He replied, lifting Goose up and holding him out toward Talos, who shifted away uncomfortably, "And as long as she continues to freak you out, I'm gonna keep giving her all the love and hugs she needs."

I laughed, "Didn't know you were a cat person, Fury."

"Didn't know you were gay until yesterday, Mac. Looks like we're all learning something knew about each other."

"Guess so." I smirked, leaning back in my chair.

"Can I ask you something?" Maria asked, glancing over her shoulder to look at Talos, "Do you just turn into anything you want?"

"Ah, well, I have to see it first." The Skrull replied, surprised at the interest in his shapeshifting abilities.

"Can all of you do it?"

"Physiologically, yeah. But it takes practice, and, dare I say, talent, to do it well."

"Can you turn into a cat?" Fury asked him.

"What's a cat?"

"What about a filing cabinet?" Maria asked him.

Talos gave her a confused look, "Why... would I turn into a filing cabinet?"

"Oh! Venus flytrap! I'll give you fifty bucks right now if you turn into a venus flytrap." I smirked. Talos gave me an unamused look and I heard Carol chuckle under her breath in front of me.

"Switching engines from Scramjet to fusion." Carol announced, "Buckle up, folks."

The sudden shift in propulsion made me suck in a breath. The jet began to shake as we rose higher, everyone was pushed back in their seats. Fury began to grip the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

"Hey, is this normal, like space turbulence?" He asked over the sound of the roaring afterburners.

"Pretty much!" Carol called back to him. Talos looked over at him and then at me and shook his head slowly. Suddenly, the propulsion came to a stop, everything that wasn't strapped down to something, that included Goose, began to float from the lack of gravity. I held back an audible gasp as I looked out on the vast emptiness of space for the very first time. Something that seemed so dark, so endless, and so monotonous, and yet it still managed to take my breath away.

Maria switched on the artificial gravity and everything fell back into place as the jet came to a halt.

"Locking in coordinate grid." Carol said.

"Where is it?" I asked, seeing only the black void of space and a clouded corner of the western hemisphere.

"It's here," Talos muttered under his breath, "It's gotta be here."

"Well, is it in front of all that nothing, or behind it?" Fury asked him, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. I rolled my eyes as Carol pulled up a holographic computer from her wrist gauntlet and punched in a code.

Suddenly, the void wasn't a void anymore as a massive ship appeared out of nowhere. My mouth fell open as I beheld the sight before me. Totally worth getting only four hours of sleep. Carol navigated the jet easily into the central hangar, where, once everyone was out, we went over our plan one final time. I grabbed my shield, attaching it to the electromagnetic plates on my left arm and took a deep breath, following Talos as he took off running into the bowels of the ship.