#then shell hide her wings as well

[missdarhk]

the theme is: there is no heterosexual explanation for what they have going on

honorable mentions:

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[deadghosy]

Okay, I saw the part in the noob!reader post about Kirby. I love Kirby and would love a Kirby!reader in hazbin hotel. Like how he is cute but can consume worlds and everyone is just like *pikachu shocked face*, same with him being able to pull out random weapons from his abilities. I can imagine he got there from a new weird portal and meta knight is like “where is he NOW?”.

Kirby is a being of chaos and I love him ❤️

I ALSO LOVE KIRBBY I WAS A BIG KIRBY KIN💗💗 🦆

HAZBIN HOTEL X KIRBY! READER

prompt: you lost the sight of your best friend only to be somewhere completely different.

Meta knight was walking ahead of you as you picked up flowers with your cute smile. “Poyo!” You said smiling ready to show meta knight your flowers you picked up into a bouquet. 

When all of a sudden, you were getting pulled into a red portal as you screamed out to meta knight who seemed to be in his own world.

“POYO! POYO!” You then get sucked in as meta knight turns to see nothing. “Reader/Kirby?…..where is he NOW!” Meta knight exclaims, his accent thickening in worry as he runs around the area calling out your name.

Meta was basically that Brandon rogers meme when he lost his “child” 😭

You swirl in the portal to get thrown out and roll into the feet of a person. “Oh my! Are you okay sweetie?” The sweet voice says as she picks you up. Charlie looked worry seeing you dizzy. “Poyoo..” you said with a dazed out look from your trip of the portal.

Charlie took you in her hotel, getting you water and suited to rest as vaggie checks up. After 24 hours, they kept you as you became part of the hotel staff.

I headcannon you once accidentally swallowed Angel because you saw him as a regular spider. You literally transformed into his color palette before Charlie made you cough him up.

Angel was so traumatized 😭

I imagine you literally almost ending hell’s population by yourself cause you were hungry..you dead ass ran through the streets eating random shit. Thank goodness Lucifer picked you up and ran.

You once walked into Lucifer brain storming and he saw you…he immediately had a new idea for his duck creation. He made you stay in his room until Charlie said it was your bed time.

Vaggie always keep tabs on you so you don’t cause trouble around the pride ring and the hotel.

IMAGINE HOW YOU LITERALLY ATE A BUILDING…A FUCKING BUILDING AND HUSK WHO TOOK YOU FOR A ERRAND STROLL WAS LIKE

The egg boiz

Nahh cause you definitely had swallowed up the egg boiz to have a egg shell around you to hide in the egg shell like an ability.

Sir Pentious is always scared of the fact of you just eating him. But you don’t cause you literally get fed chips by the bar. So Pentious calms down and lets you have some time with him

Lucifer would probably make you inhale one of his rubber ducks so you can have a duck beak and wings just so he can chase you around with heart eyes excited that his hyperfixation became real

You have a duck hat and a duck pj set. ALSO WITH AN APPLE THEME SET WHICH IS FAMOUS IN MORNINGSTAR FAMILY ❤️❤️

I can see you always following Alastor like the egg boiz did in “scrambled eggs” 😭 except you just waddle beside him cutely

“Poyoooo… poyoooo..” you said softly as you tug on Alastor’s pant leg. Alastor looks down slightly entertained by your language and gesture for him to look at you.

“Well aren’t you an eager little thing…” alastor says picking you up and taking you to show Rosie his new found friend.

Husk once

STOP IT CAUSE WHAT IF YOU INHALED A KNIFE AND EQUIPPED IT ONLY YOU BE THAT FUCKIN MEME WITH KIRBY HOLDING A KNIFE😭😭

YOU WOULD STAB SOMEONE’S TOES AND KNEES YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE!!‼️

You definitely stood outside of the Vee’s tower holding the knife with a smile as Valentino looks so scared closing his curtains.

#justiceforangeldust

Angel dust loves you to the point he might adopt you as a sibling since you are pink like him.

Charlie and vaggie are the parents who maintain what you eat and sleep. Dead as you were gonna eat a butterfly when vaggie picked you up like “NOPE! NOT TODAY!” And took you inside for the rest of the time-

See I can personally just imagine that Kirby gif where Kirby eats the whole ass meal on the table. So imagine the crew’s face seeing you do that shit 😭

I can see you getting on fat nuggets and just start to ride fat nuggets like a cowboy 😭💗

Angel definitely recorded it as you just smile while fat nuggets runs around the hotel freely.

I headcannon you bought a bunch a flowers for the crew and the was so adorable how you just picked each flower matching the cast’s colors

Imagine you just watching a hell cartoon and Vox is like “kill them! Kill your entire family” as you jolted shocked and cry at the scary tv man

Niffty once fed you dust particles thinking it wouldn’t affect you…it did cause you coughed and got sick. Niffty cried, not thinking it would harm you as she sniffles giving you soup in your room.

Niffty was banned from making lunch for you😭

Alastor be trying to troll you into eating cannibal meat, like dead ass he would make you a sandwich with “turkey” meat. But you could already smell THE MUSSTTT 🤮

So he failed with that mission. But at least you like his radio station and his jazz music.

Charlie brought you to her meeting with the first man so she can feel comfortable as you are kinda like her service animal.

Adam actually would like you cause you love to eat endlessly and you are pick up size. This mf will literally pick you up with one hand and dribble you like a basketball or treat you like a damn football💀

“Hey lute! Go long!” “Yes sir!” Lute replies back as she moves back far. Adam launches you making you scream as lute flies up and catches you.

“GOALLLL! FUCK YEAH!” Lute says accidentally throwing you off of the cloud floor they were on. “LUTE WTF?!” Adam yells looking at you fall before a portal had eaten you up. “Well damnit…I was gonna miss that lil pink shit.” Adam says before walking away with lute close behind him

Meta knight is back at home was tweaking out as he literally sobs eating with a picture of you on the table. He misses you deeply as he stares at the photo before looking down. “My friennnd…” he says with a sniffle as he covers his face.

Good ending was that you plopped down on the table from the portal as meta immediately hugs you as you smiled happily, showing him the flowers. You guys ate dinner happily!

[dolicekiss]

Bittersweet Belladona

PAIRING: Dark!Will Graham x Yandere!Reader x Dark!Hanninal Lecter

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+ only, mdni) very dark Will Graham. age gap (reader is twenty two) mention of mental instability, unhinged behavior by all parties, dubcon, stalking, slight blood, choking, hair pulling, manhandling (reader gets her shit clapped) degradation and praise, mention of cannibalism, scratching, slight fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: Following along the bloody trail left behind renowned Psychiatrist Dr. Lecter and his kin, Will Graham, your sick obsession had made you somewhat better than the FBI at tracking down the two. In the shadows, you lingered and stalked them both like a new born shadow, oblivious to the fact that you were also captured in their sight. Your twisted infatuation with the two had you cornered soon enough, trapped in an empty museum with them.

You were lured in.

You should've known.

Just why would they commit a crime in the open museum if not to lure you in and trap you?

The two men circled you around like you were their prey, like the man they had killed and formed into a firefly with its wings spread out, hanging in the air. Wings that were made out of the man's skin — red flesh exposed. The sight was spectacular and you wanted nothing more than to click photos of it, capture it in the deepest darkest parts of your mind and savor it forever.

You stared at it in pure awe, not registering the fact that you were trapped.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

It was Will’s deep voice.

Strained and dry, it made you feel something dark inside your chest. You flinched at his voice, retreating a step back but all you felt against your back was Hannibal’s hard chest, as you crashed into him. His tall figure towered over you and you moved forward, in an attempt to get away from him.

“Beautiful like her.” Hannibal spoke, voice cutting the silence like butter. “But too bad she lacks manners, don't you think?”

All you wanted to do was stalk them, learn more about how their minds worked and get to know them. You had never found their acts of violence disgusting, no. It was simply human, their flaws and the gruesome darkness concealed behind their beautiful faces. It was all too fascinating for you but you knew all too well what the two men were capable of.

The proof was levitating right up in the air.

“Following us around, stalking us. Even going as far as to hacking our phones to eavesdrop on our conversations, how fucking impolite and ill mannered.” It was Will, as he snapped at you. Your face set ablaze underneath his searing gaze, feeling terrified as he stared at you.

A look of disgust in his eyes.

“She might as well be the next Freddie Lounds.” You wanted to hide away from the way Will was glaring at you. Glasses long gone, curly strands slicked back as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Your lips trembled. “I—”

Your throat was parched, running dry in an instant as you attempted to speak and come up with some sort of excuse to your bad behavior. You felt like a child trapped between two adults, anticipating a very bad scolding, maybe even a beating too.

“You're scared, hm?” Hannibal reached for your face, squeezing it between his hand. Your lips forming a forced pout. You were trembling in his hold, as resilient as you were.

You'd decided to follow them, in a way, finding solace in them. The cannibalistic murderers of Baltimore, murder husbands, the FBI profiler who eloped with his cannibalistic psychiatrist. Everytime you saw them on the news, you felt a connection form between you and them and tug you towards them. It was profound, what you felt for them and how the people to whom you were an unknown person comforted you.

Without their own acknowledgement.

You didn't want to die.

As much as you had nothing to live for, other than the delusions that you were meant to join the two— you were an empty shell. An unstable mind wandering the world with nowhere to go. You attempted to make a run for it as soon as you felt Hannibal’s grip loosen. Bolting for the large door, your hand nearly grasped onto the golden knob and pulled at the door but Will was quick to run after you, grabbing your hand and pushing you up against the wall next to the door.

His palm laid straight on your cheek, forcing the side of your head along the wall. Holding you firmly in place all while you struggled and became a sobbing, sputtering mess. Pain blossomed in the side of your head, throbbing and roaring through your skull. Like it could grow two large heads more. The rough manhandling caused tears to pool in your waterline, threatening to drop.

You felt horrible, didn't know what was so wrong about wanting to get to know them on a deeper level as they provided you with comfort. Feeling a bit dumbfounded and stupid.

“Please—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Will nearly growled in your ear, a shiver of terror dancing up your spine.

You watched, in your blurred peripheral vision, a figure moving in next to you. It was obviously Hannibal and you stared at him with a plea clear in your eyes.

“She looks so afraid.” He commented, moving his gaze from your face to Will’s. The man still locking you in place. “She's pretty too.”

“I hate to agree.” Will sternly said, with a hint of frustration in his voice.

You struggled and squirmed, all futile and not enough to help you get your freedom. Will’s hand tangled in your hair, fingers grabbing a bunch of your hair and fisting them. He dragged you from the door and tossed you right across the vast space on the floor, watching as your body collided with the hard marble.

You didn't waste a single second in scurrying away from them both. Now you were the prey and they were the predator, stalking upto you like you were their food. Which, you were pretty sure you were going to become. You didn't mind but you couldn't die with a heart aching to be understood, to be seen.

“She deserves a punishment, no?” Hannibal said to will, voice laced with mischief.

You shook your head. “Sorry—so sorry.”

Your tears and apologies were falling upon deaf ears. Will reveled in the feeling of seeing you this helpless, at this mercy and he knew he could crush you beneath his shoe like a dying little bird. Hannibal was more interested in Will and your dynamic, how you craved to be in his presence yet were terrified of him.

He found it endearing, even.

“Oh no, apologies won't cut it, pretty girl.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I'm gonna make sure you never ever do something so silly like this ever again.”

Fear had consumed your whole being. Fingers trembling and breath hitching. Heart beat pattering like wild raindrops against a glass window. You could feel it thumping in your ears, as nausea took over you. The urge to throw up all over the floor fought to dominate you but you didn't allow it.

“What were you thinking?” Hannibal asked, squatting down next to where you were on the floor, back pressed into an old viking artifact. “Following dangerous men like us around. Just what did you believe you would achieve from it, if not your demise?”

You gulped, staring between the two men.

Glancing at Will and cowering under Hannibal’s gaze.

You didn't dare speak a word. The letters of the word ‘comfort’ burning the tip of your tongue but you didn't say it. The fear that wafted off you was almost arousing for Hannibal Lecter. His strong ability to smell emotions and feelings helping him smell your fear and anxiety.

“Answer him.” Will ordered, reaching forward and squatting down next to Hannibal in front of you. His hand extended out and collected the hair straight from your roots, tugging onto them. It hurt, the burning sensation spreading along your scalp as your neck was craned up.

You stared at him, a lone tear sliding down.

“J-Just wanted to see, w-wanted to see how you both do it.” Broken words uttered by your broken self.

Hanninal and Will looked at each other, seemingly communicating through their minds as their eyes spoke. Hannibal nodded and Will’s attention shifted back to you, this time staring at you with a different type of void behind those blue eyes of his. His grip tightened and you whimpered, fueling your tears.

Then he leaned down and in a rough kiss, captured your lips. Teeth clashing against your skin, tugging and biting on it. Your little fists tried to push him away from you, banging on the expanse of his chest. He didn't budge at all. Will had newfound determination to break you, to break you in order to put your pieces back together.

In a way he'd liked.

Hannibal knew as manipulative as he was, Will Graham was a cunning boy.

You felt him sink his teeth into your lower lip, piercing the skin enough to evoke blood. A trail dripping down, accumulating at the round of your chin. Vision blurry and eyes squeezed tightly, you cried and cried while struggling. It only worsened your situation as you felt someone behind you— taking a hold of your small fists and restraining them behind your back.

Hannibal held you in place tightly, giving full access to Will to have his way with you.

Your lungs expanded, in desperate attempts to suck in air but all you felt was Will’s tongue slipping past the entrance of your mouth. Colliding with yours, like snake, wrapping around it and in a way, the man was fucking your mouth.

Plunging his tongue in an out of your mouth.

Saliva, blood, tears. All of these liquids proved your demise, though not forever. You knew after Will or both the men are done with you, you'd be different. You'd be dead and you'll be reborn.

“Will, do you intend to end her life with a kiss?” Hannibal called out and the man finally, finally retrieved his tongue and broke apart from you.

Terrified to open your eyes, you let them stay shut. You could feel the hot breath of Will mingling with your own, chest moving vertically up and down. Lungs dragging in as much oxygen as the organs could, unaware of when they'll be allowed to breathe ever again.

“Open your eyes.” Hannibal’s hands caressed your wrists as he whispered in your ear.

You didn't listen and that was a grave mistake. That somehow managed to piss Will off more than you invading their privacy. Your disobedience towards Hannibal and as he walloped his hand across your cheek, a ringing sound entered your ears.

It was loud, everything becoming a blur to you.

Just how hard had he hit you?

Your eyes were opened and you blinked profusely, now finally capturing the man in front of you. You noticed the swell of his lips, as well as the blood that was smeared all over it. His slicked back hair now messed up in a few strands dancing over his forehead. You didn't stop your cries this much, soft little sobs echoing in the spacious museum.

“Will,” Hannibal warned. “She's fragile, you shouldn't be this aggressive.”

“She's strong and she knows it. A fragile little girl wouldn't stalk two men all the way from the US to Italy, would she now, princess?” You shook your head.

The obedience you had shown by responding immediately was satisfying for both of them. The slap had worked, and Hannibal took a hold of your chin, moving your face towards him. His scrutinizing gaze hovered over your busted lip. “It's bleeding, poor you. Will is really cruel, isn't he?”

The sheer rudeness and strictness Will Graham expressed and showcased was in complete contrast to Hannibal’s sweet, gentle demeanor. Its like one was meant to leave bruises while the other bandaged those same wounds.

“Please.” You pleaded, completely unaware of what you were actually pleading for. You knew that even if they were to let you go, you would still continue to stalk the men. You couldn't survive separation and it wasn't like you wanted to live with the two or be roommates, no.

You were more than okay with striving in the shadows, only admiring them from afar.

How did they catch you?

Were you that obvious? That obsessed and infatuated that you hadn't realized these men could outsmart you?

Will stared at you, the scared look on your face stirring something primal within his chest. You looked so beautiful, so broken and he saw himself in you. He saw who he was before meeting Hannibal and this — what he was about to do to you — could be your breakthrough.

They could be your pillars.

Hannibal was in absolute awe of the beauty you possessed and were. Just the raw vulnerability you exposed and how dedicated you were to stalking them, it was all endearing to him. To him it felt like you harbored romantic feelings for him, for them both. Like a puppy following its owners.

“Tie her up.” Will said to Hannibal and he nodded — immediately getting to work. Despite the amount of tears you shed, the struggling and the pleadings, it didn't bother them one bit. Hannibal had found a rope, magically and it made you realize all the more of how deep you had fallen into the well.

They came prepared.

Oh they had thought everything out.

They were looking forward to this.

“No, n-no, please. Listen to me.”

Didn't matter. You were nothing but a lifeless little doll, a plaything to keep them entertained. Hannibal tied you up, hands behind your back. Each knot tightened to the point of purple bruising, his hands skilfully moving across your body. It wasn't just your hands he tied, he'd restrained your arms too and the pain begun in your shoulders.

Both of them looked at you, sitting on the floor, tied up. Your dress had riled up to your thighs in the endeavor and it exposed your soft flesh, which seemed to be an invitation for the two men. Hannibal could only think how you'd taste, drenched in honey and garlic, sizzled on a barbeque. The flesh roasted and sprinkled with diced coriander.

Meanwhile Will could feel his cock becoming hard at how fucking hopeless you seemed. Just sitting on the floor, soft little sniffles falling from your lips. Even a few hiccups here and there too. A red handprint on your cheek a clear indication of your disobedience. It was a sight he wouldn't mind if he were to witness it for the rest of his life with Hannibal.

Will leaned down to you, sitting next to you as his hand reached for the exposed flesh of your thighs. When his soothing fingertips touched your skin, you flinched. That act of yours and how unwilling you still were made him tighten his grip on your thighs, nails leaving crescent moons all over the skin.

“You could've chosen a different path. A different life, different interests than the ones you have right now.” There was almost a heavy sadness to his words. Like he missed the person who he was, somewhere deep inside his mind. “Yet you got yourself into such a mess. Trapped with two men. Do you have any idea what we'll do to you, pretty girl?”

You shook your head.

“If you knew coming here would have you end up like this, would you still go through with it?” He stared at you, in anticipation, searching for the answer in your blurry gaze but he didn't need to.

As you nodded your head. Proving the unstable state of your mind. Despite knowing things would end this way, you'd come to this place over and over again. They had noticed you, they'd seen you, felt you. How could it get any better? Yes, you were hurt but did it really matter? It was worth seeing the two perform their art in all its glory.

Hannibal stared at Will and the man scoffed — shaking his head. “You're such a braindead little thing, aren't you?”

You lifted your eyes up from the floor you were on, confused. The confusion gave you the look of a lost puppy, who had no idea just what was even happening to it. Puzzled and all over the place, terrified and lost.

“She's a peculiar one.” Hannibal commented, one hand slipped inside his pocket. “Should we take her?”

“We'll decide that when she's proven to be worthy of it.” His hand inched closer and closer, riding further up your thigh and between them. Your breath hitched, body shivering as you felt his fingers brush against your clothed cunt.

You were already soaked, as confused as you were about it. They had humiliated you, disrespected you, hurt you yet your panties were saturated. Upon feeling the slick coating your inner thighs, Will let out a dark chuckle and showed his fingers to Hannibal.

The slick glistening against the bright lights.

“She's not some innocent little girl. Her cunt is drenched, Hannibal. All because of how we treated her, like some whore.”

You squeezed your thighs together, not wanting Will to pry more but he did. Both hands at both knees, he parted your thighs open fully and exposed you to the lascivious gaze of himself and Hannibal. The wet spot on your beige panties the perfect innuendo that you were aroused, like some fucking animal and it grossed you out.

Why were you feeling this way?

Will’s hand lowered to your cunt, his thumb flat against your covered clit. He moved it in slow, circular motions, watching you in exciting anticipation. Your body twitched, hips immediately beginning to writhe and he scoffed. Your reactions were fucking adorable, both the men in complete awe.

You still wanted out — as good as this felt.

You struggled, squirming your hips and trying to stray further from him but Will grabbed your leg, putting his own over it to refrain you from moving. You whimpered at his heavy weight on your leg, as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. He then finally peeled the panties off you, sliding them down yout ankles and tossing them to the aside.

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” He whispered, Hannibal also joining him on the floor.

Both of them stared at your cunt like it was a meal they both had craved for a very, very long time. A fresh set of tears fell as Will parted your pussy open with his thumbs, pink flesh coated with creamy arousal.

Hannibal shifted behind you, pulling you between his own legs. Both his hands caressed your sides, slowly riding upto your breasts. Fingers kneading into the plush of your tits and dragging your dress down, watching the fat mounds bounce out. His own cock hardened at the sight.

Hannibal loved the female body, how beautiful and different it was than a man's. Innocence seeped into it, like a fresh drop from the sun and a tear of the moon.

You looked up at him and shook your head, squirming. “Stop —no. Not right, not right.”

At your resistance, Will delivered a sharp smack across the stripe of your cunt. Watching as the pink deepened. He slid a finger inside you and you whimpered, gaze fixated on Hannibal. The men simultaneously toyed with your body, having their way with it and you could only sit there helplessly and sob.

“She's tight, even around my finger. I wonder how she'll take both of our cocks.” Will’s comment made Hannibal’s concealed cock throb. A low rumble escaping his chest, vibrating against your back. “Don't tempt me, Will.” Hannibal warned, his fingers pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks.

Will soon inserted another finger, staring up at you. He found you disrespectful and downright rude. Somewhere you reminded him of a certain redhead, with how you lurked everywhere in the shadows wherever they were. But he knew you were nothing like Freddie Lounds. You did not possess the same greed she did, the same lust for fame and content.

Instead he saw darkness. The type of darkness that matched his own — a reflection of his own self. He plunged his fingers in and out of you, curving them and gaining access to that sensitive spot. As he hit it, your gummy walls tightened around his digits, greedy cunt sucking them in.

Meanwhile Hannibal forced you to look at him, one hand still toying with your perky tits. He stared down at you, finding you endearing. How you cried, every movement of your little body. The tears pooling in your waterline, the way your lips shivered and produced small sobs, how the fear flashed in your gaze once in awhile. You were so broken and so damaged, he wanted to fix you right up.

By breaking you apart.

“You should've expected this to happen. Stalking dangerous men like us, while being so frail and fragile yourself. Just what did you expect to happen, hm?” His grip tightened on your wrist, as he stared at you.

You had no words. There was nothing on your mind, other than the realization that you were trapped and had nowhere to go. There was no one coming to your salvation and the thought terrified you more than anything. The complexities of your own emotions and thoughts warring together only left you further braindead.

Hannibal captured your lips. At first the kiss was sweet, gentle even but soon you realized it was only to swallow your little sounds. Every time Will bruised your sensitive spot, Hannibal swallowed a gulp of your whimper. These two were like wolves, consuming and sucking the blood out of their prey.

He continued kissing you, prying your mouth open and mingling his tongue with yours. The fact that you still had Will’s saliva in your mouth, also dribbling down your chin and Hannibal kissed the same mouth. It was all too taboo to not turn you on. Your hips shuffling a little only for Will to press his own leg harder down on yours.

Will stared at you both, watching with a burning gaze as Hannibal practically sucked the soul out of you. He scoffed a little, remembering Hannibal’s words from earlier at how he almost ended you with a kiss. The man was doing the same now, just with a much gentle tone.

He didn't even allow you to inhale or breathe, lips locked against yours in a tight firm kiss. You struggled, attempting to move here and there but it didn't work at all. He continued devouring you like you were his last meal. He kissed differently than Will. He kissed with the intention to eat you, with the intention to savor you for the rest of his life.

It was too passionate for you to ignore. Tears sliding down your face. “You can't eat her now, Hannibal. Don't end up biting her tongue off.”

Will’s words made Hannibal stall for a moment, registering what the man had said. He was right, Hannibal couldn't actually eat you now and from how sweet you tasted, he wanted to bite your fucking tongue off and decorate it with your white teeth.

He backed out, after relishing in the taste you had to offer. Hannibal almost flinched at how fucked out you appeared, from a mere kiss. Your vision had blurred, your mind hazy and your cheeks red. You stared at him, partially lost and numb and then more tears slid across your face.

“Let's take her over to the table.” Will passed an order and Hannibal complied, picking you up within seconds. Your legs resting on his waist, as he carried you to the table.

It was somewhere in the back, concealed in a dark corner. Hannibal laid you down against it on your stomach, and you kicked. Your little kicks delivering to his leg but it didn't affect him at all. Your act of disobedience was like drops of fuel against a fire and it angered both of them. Hannibal’s fingers circled around your ankles, holding them in place.

Will walked over to the two of you, and his fingers drowned in your locks. Grabbing a fistful of it, he craned your neck up and made you look at him. “You fucking brat.” Will slapped you across the side of your face, watching you with a burning stare.

Incinerating pain grew on your right cheek as you slowly regained your senses back and registered the slap. Blood trickled down your chin, the source being your busted lip. The trail cold and dark. “S-Sorry.”

“Oh you'll be fucking sorry when we're done with you, whore.” Will turned to Hannibal. “You take her cunt, I take her mouth. She'll know just how easy we were being on her.”

“Don't end up damaging her.” Hannibal responded, grip tightening on your ankles. “I have taken a liking to her, she'll be good entertainment.”

“Fine.” Will replied with a groan.

Then you caught his attention, again. How unlucky you were. You watched as he unzippes his pants and your eyes widened in horror, hearing another zip being pulled down right after Will’s. You shook your head but it caused Will’s grip to tighten.

As he pulled out his cock, you heard shuffling behind you as well. Will tapped his fat tip against your cheek, then slowly running it along your sealed lips. “Are you going to open up or do I have to force you?”

You contemplated. You really contemplated and the slap made you more pliant, as you parted open your lips. On the other hand, Hannibal had pushed your legs apart, his own cock in his hand. He slowly guided it inside you and when you felt his thick head enter you, a high pitched moan echoed within the walls of the museum.

Will pulled your hair. “Stick your fucking tongue out.”

And you obliged. Ashamed and embarrassed, you stuck your tongue out and Will slapped his fat cock flat against it a few times before driving it inside the wetness of your mouth. Feeling them both enter you at the same time, one inside your cunt and the other dominating your mouth. You cried out in pain.

Hannibal looked down at how your pussy hugged his cock, barely halfway through and a low growl rumbled from his chest upon seeing the ring of blood around his cock.

You were a virgin.

“She's a virgin Will.” Hannibal called out, pushing himself deeper inside you. To a point where no one else has been. “Poor girl probably wanted something sweet, something gentle for her first time.”

Will practically melted at the fact that you were a virgin. Completely untouched. He wondered how could that be possible with the way you appeared and how your body was carved by the gods them selves? But he didn't care. It was perfect. You were perfect.

Made for them.

Crafted for them by the same god they both resented.

Will’s gaze dropped down at you, watching you as your lips squeezed around his cock and sucked him in. “Ever sucked a cock before, princess?”

The term which was usually used for endearment sounded so ironic when it came from Will. Like he was mocking you, using it to taunt you. He didn't mean it when he called you that. He was only using it to make you feel horrible, calling you a princess while treating you worse than a peasant.

You shook your head. You were foreign to the idea of such explicit activities before this very night but now, you were stuffed two cocks. One in your mouth and one in your cunt.

You felt Hannibal’s cock grow thicker inside you at the information, its veins throbbing against your gummy walls. A muffled cry of despair left you as Will continued sliding his cock further into your mouth. “If I feel one tooth, I will punch them right out of your mouth. Got it?”

You inhaled through your nose, nodding.

“Good.” Will released your hair as both his hands settled against your face. He held your face, the head of his cock pushing past your palate and uvula as a loud groan mixed in with your muffled whimpers. He snapped his hips, not caring that you were choking all over his cock.

Saliva trailing down your chin, making a mess around your mouth. You moved your shoulders, all the while Hannibal held you tightly against the table by your hips and fucked you like some wild beast. Both men used their full strength, snapping their cock inside you and it left you light headed.

“She's squeezing me in so much, almost as if she likes this.” You heard Hannibal grunt, his cock slamming against your cervix. From how hard his fingernails dug into your flesh, you knew your skin was bloodied by now.

Hannibal’s gentle demeanor was out the fucking window, replaced with the monster he truly was.

As Will’s cock slid along the surface of your tongue, his hips bucked and he fully bottomed out in your mouth. You could feel his head at the back of your throat and gagged all over it, tears splattering out of your eyes. It was all a mess. You couldn't even breathe anymore and let out little screams — which were muffled and only worked as vibrations against Will’s throbbing length, nearing him to his orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. I bet her little cunt is as tight as her mouth. It's like I'm fucking a pussy.” Will whimpered, slurring out soft little pants.

Hannibal groaned in respond. “Show me her face, Will. Right now.”

Will nodded, pulling out of your mouth only for a few seconds as he flipped you on your back and pushed your head up, holding it for Hannibal to witness the mess he'd created out of you. A mirror with broken shards, showing Hannibal a reflection of himself.

He almost came at the sight of you.

Looking so fucked up. Hair a mess. Lips bruised, bloody and swollen. Tears and saliva running down in rivulets. You were a fucking sight for sore eyes and Hannibal wanted this every single day. He needed to witness this every single day.

And he never needed anything.

“So beautiful. So fucking—” He snapped inside you, his pace becoming rough and animal like thrusts founding their way against your bruised spot. “beautiful but such an impolite little girl.”

He spat as the sound of skin against skin echoed in the room. Bouncing off the walls of the museum, reaching the carved out ancient ceiling. The cupids listening to each and every noise made in sin.

Will dropped your head down, your neck bending slightly as he shoved his cock back inside your mouth. This new position gave him all the power to fuck your mouth thoroughly, watching as the imprint of his cock inside your throat formed against your skin. Bulging and moving along the skin.

It turned him on like nothing else.

He glared at you, eyebrows furrowed in pure pleasure, lips parted to allow heavy pants escape it. Will Graham looked fucking breathtaking when the sweat trickled down his forehead. You were wondering if this was that bad, if them taking you against your will was anything bad.

But it was the pleasure getting to your head.

Of course this was morally wrong and fucked up.

But who had morals in this room?

One was a cannibal, the other was an accomplice and murderer and you were an unhinged stalker.

“Fuck you looking at huh?” He asked you, abruptly slapping your chest. Your back arched and you let out a whimpered cry, almost tempted to use your teeth.

But you were well aware what that act would cost you.

Will gasped out, feeling his orgasm nearing while Hannibal looked at Will. He could only admire the view before him and as he fucked your cunt, his own orgasm came knocking at his door. Both of them imitated each other's pace, fucking you like wild animals during mating season.

They came soon and the intimacy of them cumming together was so intense. Hannibal’s load shot out, coating your gummy walls and filling you up to the brim. Will’s thrusted, and as you subconsciously tightened your mouth around him, the man also released into your mouth.

His moans had evolved into whimpers and gasps, breathing ragged as he emptied himself inside you. Balls throbbing and hips bucking. It was fucking intense, for both Hannibal and Will. His fingernails dug into the wood for support, fucking your mouth leisurely to ride out his orgasm. Hannibal had left marks on your thighs and hips from how roughly he'd gripped them, as well as blood trails from his nails.

Coated in your own blood, your once untouched and unclaimed skin was now drenched in sin — purity long snatched by the hands of the devil himself. In your case, both Hannibal and Will relresented the Devil. Falling angels they were.

As Will pulled out from your mouth, he caught a glimpse of all his load sitting there in your mouth. It's taste salty and texture thick. Something you'd never ever experienced in your mouth.

“Swallow it.” He ordered and you shut your mouth, swallowing it all. It felt gross and weird against your throat but you didn't complain, only a look of grimace crossed your face.

You still hadn't cum.

Your body twitching and aching. Your cunt screaming for its own release, knots building up in your stomach and thighs convulsing. You were close too but Hannibal stopping made you let out a whimper of frustration.

“Look at her, Hannibal. Twitching and whimpering for a release, huh.” Will scoffed, lips shuddering as he inhaled long chains of oxygen.

Hannibal pried open your hole with his thumbs, watching as his cum oozed out of you and pooled on the table. Your gaping hole sputtered, more cum leaking out and Hannibal licked his lips at the sight. “Although she has not been an obedient girl, I think she deserves her release too for taking us so well. Don't you, Darling?”

You nodded.

You needed this feeling of intense desire and wanton to disappear. This frustration that bit at your stomach, nipped away little pieces of flesh.

Will walked over to Hannibal as the man took you into his arms, sliding his cock back inside you. This time Will sat on top of the table, his half soft cock fully hardening at the evil idea that cooked in his mind. He held your ass, opening it with both his hands and slowly pressing his tip against your rim.

Your eyes widened. “N—No.”

“Still resisting us? Knowing we've claimed you, all of you? How naive.” Hannibal commented, face only a few inches apart from yours. He slid his cock inside your cunt as Will lowered you onto his. The two men were gonna tear you apart, you knew that.

Their girth and length were both something you couldn't handle, not at once at least. But Will didn't care — and Hannibal shared that. Feeling the burning stretch in your ass, you shrieked as Will entered you. A tear slid down your face, disappearing into your parted lips as Hannibal held you for Will.

“It hurts— hurts please.” You cried, like a broken doll and Hannibal pressed a kiss against the corner of your lips. “It'll feel better soon. You shouldn't feel pain. You're only a set of holes for our pleasure, aren't you?”

You didn't answer, too lost in the searing pain in your bottom. Will wasn't even half way through, you could feel it and yet it felt like you were being ripped apart. Hannibal’s cock stayed inside you, not movinf at all. Allowing Will to first adjust himself inside you.

“Answer me.” Hannibal held you with one hand, as he lightly smack you with the other.

You nodded. “Yeah, only a set of holes for your pleasure.”

Hearing you accept it like this, so vocally and out loud. Will lost it and slammed you down onto his cock, bottoming out. Pain bloomed in your ass and you screamed but before it could reach the ears of people somewhere outside the museum, Hannibal captured your lips in a rough kiss.

He licked at your tongue, teeth against teeth while fucking into you slowly. Will sat there as Hannibal moved you up and down on his cock and the burning sensation only grew with each thrust. “Stupid fucking whore. Just what was going through your head, this young and dedicating your life to stalking men twice your fucking age. It's like you wanted this to happen to you, yeah? Two cocks in you at once.”

Will’s filthy words was like alcohol, and blitzed you were. Guilt consumed you and somewhere their manipulation was seeming to work on you in this vulnerable moment. You should've know better. This was bound to happen. Just what were you expecting? That they would invite you into their lives with an open, warm embrace?

You were so fucking stupid.

Hannibal parted from you, his forehead pressed against you as he settled you down against Will’s thighs. You sniffled, feeling his cock all the way inside your ass as Hannibal used your cunt. You felt nothing more than some whore that was here for their pleasure, their sake.

Your stomach flipped and churned, a disclaimer that your release was near. Your thighs shook terribly and when Will pushed upward, you surged forward and leaned against Hannibal’s chest. You tightened around them both, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh she's close. I can feel her. She's gonna snap my fucking dick in half.” Will grunted, as you twitched. Then it came. That strong, bone chilling feeling of pleasure, consuming your whole being. Eyes witnessing white and lips agape, high pitched moans slurring out and tainting the purity of the museum.

You felt the potent need of release take over you ans you gushed out, squirting all over the men. Your body going limp and losing all its strength, falling over to Hannibal. All you saw was darkness, as your eyes stayed closed and your chest moved up and down. Frame suffering from convulsions.

For a moment you thought they'd stop but what a mistake it was.

“She's made quite the mess, Will.” Hannibal commented, his button up soaked in your release.

Will released a hoarse chuckle, his chest rumbling. The man started fucking into your ass, watching as it revived you back but this time you had no resistance left in you. One orgasm had sent you over the edge, overestimated and sensitive. You whined into Hannibal’s chest, tears staining his shirt as Will continued fucking into you.

Hannibal was also in pursuit of Will, his cock carrying its assault on your cunt. Encouraging broken whines out of you. The two were also stimulated enough and after fucking you for awhile, they too came.

Feeling Will’s load in your ass was a weird feeling. It was uncomfortable but what made it even more uncomfortable was Hannibal’s cum leaking out of your cunt, as he fucked it back into you.

You fell against Will’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. Face drained and numb, no energy left in you whatsoever. You were so fucked out and numb — no expression on your face as you stared at Hannibal.

“She's fucked.” Will said, with a laugh as he stared at the worried expression on Hannibal’s face.

He tapped his fingers over your cheek. “Hey, can you hear me?”

You didn't respond. Completely broken and tired. You craved solace in that moment, absurdly from the two men who were the sole cause of all this. How fucked up could this situation get?

“Hey.” His taps on your cheek grew harder but you didn't respond. Will sat up straight, arm wrapped around your waist as he held you against him. “Fuck, I think we damaged her.”

“We?” Hannibal raised a brow.

Will narrowed his eyes at him. “Don't pretend as if you weren't manipulating her into thinking this was all her fault, all the while fucking her.”

Hannibal looked at you, also tapping at your face but to no avail. You were completely speechless and devoid of any human emotion. Like some fucking statue.

“All the fucking left her braindead huh.” Will whispered and then he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss against you cheek. He shook your body lightly and there you were.

Staring at him, with your innocent eyes and his heart clenched. You still had remnants of who you were, just like all of them but he knew this would change you.

“There you are.” Hannibal said, a wave of relief washing over him. You stared between the two men and finally gathered the courage to reply to their question.

“Comfort.” Both their gazes narrowed in on you when you spoke, voice strained and almost gone from all the moaning you did. “You a-asked me what I believed I would ac—” You coughed out before continuing, “achieve from this. Comfort.”

Will’s jaw tightened.

Hannibal found you even more endearing than before. How foolish yet adorable of you to think being with them could bring you comfort. He caressed away the drop of nearly dried blood from your chin, watching it taint your skin further.

“Let's go, we're going home.” The blonde said — as Will nodded his head. He liked the idea of taking a broken person like you home, especially when you had chased them only as a means to seek comfort. He didn't know whether to think of it as something sad or something sweet.

But both of them had plenty of time to decide that, as they were taking you home.

[natalievoncatte]

This was going to happen; it was inevitable the moment that Lena chose this course and began preparing to enact the plan. The timing was the mystery, the where and when. Thinking back on it later, she should have known better. Supergirl liked dramatic entrances, and she liked having Lena to herself when she talked. Surprisingly for someone who flew around in primary colors and smiled cheerfully for the cameras, she knew how to be discreet.

There was a double thud as the stacked heels of Supergirl’s boots touched down on the balcony behind her. Lena didn’t look up from her work. Not for the first time, she wondered if Supergirl used her super-senses to read other people. Lena’s heart sped up when she heard the landing and her breath caught, but she remained calm and smooth when she spoke.

“You may as well come in. We’re on the ninety-sixth floor. I don’t bother locking it.”

The glass door slid quietly on oiled plastic runners, and a gust of chilly night air rolled over Lena’s shoulders, causing her ponytail to slide from its place and dangle down her back. She’d changed earlier out of her power suit and exchanged her tight high ponytail for a loose, comfortable one. She was planning an an all-nighter.

“You should lock the door. There are dangerous people out there. Among other things.”

“If any of them have it in for me, they’re not going to be slowed down much by the balcony door, Supergirl.”

There was a soft sigh behind her. “We need to talk.”

Lena smirked. “Why is that? Are you worried my new car saving machine will pull all the cats out of the trees and out you out of work? I’m still working out all the kinks.”

“Miss Luthor…”

“Speaking of kinks, maybe you could help me out. I’ve got a terrible crick in my neck and could use a super-neck rub.”

“Miss Luthor,”

“Or if you’re not busy, you could run and grab us some takeout. I’m thinking Thai, how about you?”

“Lena!”

Sighing, she turned around, tearing her attention from her work. Supergirl had her arms folded, displaying those impressive muscles of hers, and was looking at Lena with an expression of stern concern, something soft and a little worried in her eyes.

“What’s the occasion, then? Let me guess, someone wants to assassinate me.”

Supergirl sighed and let her arms fall. “You need to take this seriously. Right now, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”

“And why is that?”

Supergirl edged closer, her cape swirling slightly behind her. She put a hand on Lena’s desk and leaned over her.

“Because you’re been buying up every ounce of Kryptonite you can find.”

Her pulse began to race and she fought the urge to sink back from the piercing blue eyes that stared into hers.

“That’s not possible. Your cousin destroyed it all.”

“Not all of it,” said Supergirl. “The DEO keeps some, and there’s some floating around on the black market, usually mistaken for something else.”

“What makes you think that I didn’t just stumble across some? I inherited an extensive collection of art and sculpture, Supergirl, and I’m always adding to it. Ask Kara Danvers. I’m going to display the bulk of the family collection in a new wing at the city museum.”

“Because the DEO identified and tracked dozens of pieces, including the ones you bought,” Supergirl said, quietly. “It’s a way for us to identify threats and see who’s trafficking in it. You moved them through shell companies and had them smuggled through customs. You’re hiding something.”

Lena pushed to her feet, indignant, leaning into the do confrontation. She stabbed a manicured nail into the center of Supergirl’s chest, right into her big S.

“So now you come storming into my office making accusations?”

Supergirl planted her fists on her hips and stood over Lena, glaring down at her.

“I’m on your side. I’m the only one keeping the DEO from arresting you. I want to believe that there’s a benign reason for this, Lena. But you have to give me one. People think you’re a threat.”

Lena stared back at her, studying her features, her expression.

“It won’t do any good to tell you. Your superiors won’t believe me. They’ve been trying to entrap me ever since I took over the company.”

“They’re not my superiors,” Kara snapped. “I work with them. They have resources and support I need.”

Lena crossed her arms and cocked her head. “They also have Kryptonite. You just admitted that.”

“Lena,” Supergirl snapped.

Quickly, she grabbed a random page from her notes and scribbled, are they listening?

Supergirl looked at it briefly, then at Lena, weighing her options.

Then she nodded.

Lena scrawled on the sheet.

I’m making a cure.

Supergirl started, flinching as she read the note. She blinked almost comically.

Can we talk without anyone listening in? Lena wrote.

Supergirl nodded, taking the paper. She slipped the pen out of Lena’s grasp and scrawled, give me five minutes.

“Fine,” said Lena. “Tell your people they can call a judge. I’m sure they’ll have all the proper papers and warrants and court orders and it will all be nice and legal.”

“I don’t want it to be this way,” said Supergirl. “I want to work together with you. I believe in you, Lena.”

“You have a hell of a way of showing it.”

Supergirl huffed, turned, and headed for the balcony, taking off with such force that Lena stumbled back a few steps.

Lena waited, finally moving towards the door to close it, when a folded paper airplane sailed through the opening and came to rest on her desk. She closed the balcony door and grabbed the paper, quickly unfolding it.

They can track my suit. Meet me at the Big Belly on 49th. Leave your phone. Walk. Don’t worry about your safety, I’ll be watching. I’ll be in civilian clothes.

Lena crumpled the note in her pocket. The place Suoergirl meant was a half an hour walk, and Lena was more than a little nervous about walking it at night. So, she grabbed her .357 from her desk drawer and stuffed it in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie, and took her private elevator to the ground floor.

When she walked up on the Big Belly, it was of course closed, dark inside with the chairs up on the tables. Lena tensed when she saw a figure approaching in the dark, much like she was, in joggers and a hoodie.

She relaxed when she saw Kara Danvers hiding in that hood. When they crossed paths, Lena stopped and began walking beside her.

“Supergirl said she would meet me herself,” said Lena. “I’m kind of surprised she sent you, Kara.”

“Keep your voice down,” Kara said, softly. “Follow me.”

Kara led her on a trek through downtown, making Lena rather nervous. This part of the city emptied out after hours and it was close to three in the morning, and they were walking alone on empty streets, finally turning off down an alley between two seemingly random buildings.

There, Kara stopped, and sighed.

“Can you really do it? Can you cure Kryptonite poisoning?”

“Yes,” Lena said, excited. “I think I can. I’m very close. I needed the samples I procured so that I could perfect the process.”

Kara’s shoulders hitched a little. She faced away from Lena, and took a step towards the brick wall in front of her.

“They have a device that your brother created. It can disperse Kryptonite through the entire atmosphere in a few minutes.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“It’s how they control me. I don’t know where they keep it, only that they have it. If I step out of line, they’ll poison the atmosphere and kill me.”

“Kill you? Kara what are you talking about? You’re not…”

“I told you I’d meet you in civilian clothes. When I wrote the note in your office.”

Lena stumbled back a step, trying to process what she just heard. Kara was talking as if…

She turned around, facing Lena, and stood to her full height, removing her glasses without sweeping back her hood, and met Lena’s gaze.

“But… you’re…”

“Hush,” Kara said, softly. “I’ll explain everything. Right now we need to move and move fast, before they figure out what I’m up to. How fast can you finish your cure?”

“I need a few days and some things from my lab.”

Kara brought her wrist up and spoke into a hidden radio. “Alex, get ready to move. We’ll need to get to Lena’s lab before the DEO does.”

Lena blinked a few times. What the hell was going on?

“I need to get you someplace safe, then I’ll get you up to speed,” said Kara. “Will you come with me?”

Lena’s heart pounded in her chest. “Where?”

“Safety. I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You’re too dangerous to the DEO, Lena. They’re going to move on you, and I had to beg to give you a chance. Tomorrow someone is going to come make you an offer you can’t refuse, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

Lena nodded.

“Alright then. I’m with you. Let’s go.”

Kara nodded.

“Good. Lena Luthor, welcome to the Justice League.”

I had a weird urge to play with the idea of a world where the DEO are a black ops unit that controls Supergirl with the threat of Kryptonite and Lena helps her take them down and save the world. Of course Kara has to be all dramatic about naming the resistance movement.

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 7

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Damn we on part 7? That happened fast. I just realized that this series is going to be longer than I thought. ALSO, highly suggest clicking on the link to see the readers dress bc it adds to the plot and it was hard to desribe lol.

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexism, heavier SA in this one again, a little bit of exhibitionism, jealously, Smut 

Word Count: 6,009

“If you don’t stop right now Rhys is going to kill you for being late!” I giggle watching Cassian pepper kisses all over my neck through the floor-length mirror. I had simply asked him to button up the back of my dress for me but now he couldn’t keep his hands off me.  

“Rhys can wait,” Cassian smirks nibbling under my ear, the scruff of his morning beard tickling my skin. 

“I’m sure he can, but it might seem a little suspicious that you’re late considering you’re the most punctual person I know,” I smile running a hand through his hair. 

Cassian doesn’t stop pressing loving kisses all over my shoulders and neck. His hands rubbed soothing circles on my hips. His strong chest behind me kept me upright as I watched him ravishing me in the floor-length mirror. 

“Cass,” I protested, turning in his arms knowing if I didn’t my newly buttoned dress would be unbuttoned and on his bedroom floor in an instant. 

“Alright, alright,” he laughed as I threw my arms over his shoulders to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“I promise you can kiss me all you want later,” I laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“What about anywhere I want?” he grins, kissing me again.

“Hmmm, maybe,” I tease, tilting my head to the side. Cassian’s hands gripped my waist tighter. 

“C’mon princess don’t make me beg,” he said lowly, pressing a kiss to the shell of my ear. 

I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle to hide the change in my heart rate, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees general.” I tease. 

“You know I’d crawl to your bed if I had to, princess,” he teased back and the air in the room had become thick and warm.  

I push away from him a little, “Cass stop I know what you’re trying to do! Go talk to Rhys before he comes up here to see what’s taking so long!” I laugh. 

“Fine, fine,” he shakes his head and follows me out of his room into the hallway. 

“What does he want to talk to you about anyways?” I ask as we walk idly towards the kitchen. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “Probably just catching up on the Illyrian camps I visited with Az earlier.” 

“Well remember. Nothing about you and I, as far as he’s concerned Eris and I are counting down the days until the wedding.” I remind him as we round the corner to the kitchen where Azriel sips his morning coffee. 

“Hello lovebirds,” Azriel mused, not looking up from his book. 

“Hello Az,” I smiled at the shadowsinger. 

“I promise to paint a lovely picture of newly engaged bliss, even though I enjoy it,” Cassian assures me as we stop at the door to the balcony. 

“Thank you,” I say cupping his cheek. “Now go before Rhys loses his mind,” I say pushing him out the door. 

“Ah ah ah not without one of these,” he smirks, pulling me in by my waist for a kiss. Gods I would never get tired of kissing this male. 

Without another word, Cassian pulled away and flashed me a charming smile before flaring his wings and taking off into the air. These past few days I had grown to see a new side to the Illyrian that I had never known before. For one, I had never known him to be so sweet and loving and two, I had never seen the male smile so much. Not that I could complain, he did have one of the most dashing smiles I’d ever seen.  

“You two are adorable but you make me sick,” Azriel laughed from the kitchen table beside me. I turned my head to find him watching me intently. He tried to mask his face in disgust, but the love in his eyes was a dead giveaway. 

“There will be loads of women fawning over your pretty face tonight tonight.” I teased ruffling up his hair. “And you’re a wonderful dancer. I’m sure you’ll find your person soon.” I continue waltzing towards the library.

“So you think I’m pretty?” Azriel teases taking a bite of an apple. 

I simply rolled my eyes and shook my head as I exited the room. 

Cassian’s pov: 

“Cass please sit down,” Rhysand says motioning toward the plush chair in his study, one large enough to accommodate wings of course. 

I had known the bastard for hundreds of years and never once had I been afraid of him. But I hadn’t spoken to him since everything happened with me and y/n. I had made sure to keep my mental shields up but I couldn’t stop the irrational fear that Rhys’ next words were going to be, “Are you fucking my little sister?” As he poured us each a glass of whiskey I couldn’t help but feel a bead of sweat dripping down my back. 

“I hear you’ve been keeping y/n satisfied,” Rhys drawled, handing me a glass. 

Oh shit

“At least that’s what Azriel said the other day when I asked him how you guys were doing with going back and forth to the Autumn Court all the time.” Rhys cocked an eyebrow at my blank expression as I grabbed the glass of whiskey from his hand and sipped it eagerly. 

Azriel that motherfucker. I could practically see his smug face as he told Rhys about how “satisfied” I was keeping his little sister. I would be thoroughly kicking his ass today at training. 

“Yeah I mean it’s a pretty simple task taking her back and forth.” I shrug trying to shake whatever tension I had from my shoulders. “But she seems to have no quarrel with me, except for one time when I messed up her hair because I flew too fast but that’s about it.” I smile remembering the cute angry look on her face that went along with her messed-up updo. 

“Ever the little princess,” Rhys rolled his eyes and relaxed into his chair. “Is she happy with Eris?” 

I tried to look collected as Rhys asked the question I had been dreading. The entire flight here I considered telling him everything. I thought that maybe he could help her, or at least talk to Beron. But then I thought about how I would have to explain why I cared so much, and Rhys would be much less inclined to help if he knew I was fucking his little sister. Hell if y/n ever did figure this out would Rhys even allow me to be with her? I was a bastard after all.  

Then of course there was y/n. She would never forgive me for betraying her trust, and I wasn’t willing to lose it. More importantly, I thought back to what she said the day that Eris first tried to take advantage of her. 

Cassian please, don’t take my choices away from me…

Cauldron how those words had struck me like lightning when she said them. The poor girl had never been given free will to make her own choices until recently. First, she was closed off from the world because of her beauty, then she was under the mountain. Now she was engaged to Eris and I’d rather die than be another person who tried to control her. 

“She seems to be,” I reply to Rhys. “I mean she did agree to marry him.” 

Lies 

Lies 

Lies

“And Eris? Will he be a suitable husband for her? I’ve heard stories of him, some good, some bad. I was hesitant at first to let him near her till I remembered what others have said about me.” he says with a hint of sadness. “I thought I’d give him a chance, in hopes that Feyre will give me one someday.” 

My heart broke for my brother, “I’m sure she will brother,” I say warmly. “But Eris seems quite smitten with y/n. He’s already sent her a large trove of dresses and jewels.” 

Not entirely a lie.

“I hope you’re right Cass,” Rhys said with a sad smile. “But I’m glad my sister is happy. After all she’s endured she deserves it. Will you be joining us tonight?” he asks, referring to the engagement ball. 

“Have you ever known me to pass up free drinks and beautiful women?” I chide leaning back in my own chair.

“I suppose not,” Rhys laughed, slamming back his whiskey. 

y/n’s pov: 

Cauldron boil me.

That was the only thought that raced through my head as I stared at myself in the floor-length mirror. For once my lady's maids didn’t get a chance to select the perfect dress for me to wear tonight, as Eris had specifically labeled a dress in the trove he sent me. The dress I now wore. 

The fabric itself was beautiful, swaths of chrome of molten gold. It draped and cascaded down my body perfectly, the only problem with the fabric was that there wasn’t enough of it. The high slit and the low back left little to the imagination. Even the top of the dress was skimpy, with only three thin pieces of fabric holding the garment together. 

As I exited my bedroom to the foyer to meet Cassian I could only hope that the fireplaces would be roaring on both ends of the vast ballroom tonight as I was already freezing. I find Cassian already waiting for me (per usual), in a night court black jacket that has him looking like pure sex. The only color adorning him is the two red siphons on his hands. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” he gawks at my dress, eyes raking up and down my nearly bare body. 

“What don't you like it?” I tease doing a spin for him. 

His arms pull me close to him, hands wandering all over my exposed skin. The familiar touch of his hands soothes the goosebumps on my too-cold skin as I feel myself leaning into him. 

“That’s what he’s making you wear?” he scrutinizes, looking me up and down again. 

“Unfortunately yes,” I sigh looking down at the dress myself. Gods I hated this. 

“That bastard’s going to have his hands all over you all night,” he grits, turning his head to the side like he doesn’t want me to see the simmering in his eyes. 

I reach up to cup his face turning his gaze back to mine, “Cass I know that this isn’t easy. If the roles were reversed the female would be dead by now,” I laugh trying to ease the mood. “If you don’t want to come tonight I’ll understand.” 

“No, I’m not leaving you to do this on your own,” he says, placing a hand over my own that rests on his cheek. 

“Cass-” 

“I’m going y/n,” he assures me. 

Secretly and selfishly I was glad he was coming. I would never make him do such a thing. Especially knowing how Eris is going to be. But there was a comfort in knowing that he would be present. A comfort in knowing that at the slightest hint of a scared glance, he would likely burn down the whole court for me. 

“Cassian?” I whisper. 

“Yes?” he asked. 

“Kiss me,” I say, referencing our first kiss, hoping it would bring a smile to his face. 

“With pleasure,” he smiled before leaning in for a kiss. 

I took every moment and committed it to memory knowing that soon it would be Eris’ lips instead, and they wouldn’t be as tender and sweet. Soon it would be Eris’ hands on me, and they wouldn’t be as warm and strong. I savored every taste of Cassian I got, somehow in that moment falling even deeper in love with him. Cassian kisses me like I’m the air he breathes. He kisses me like every female dreams of being kissed and gods I’ll never get enough. 

“When we get home,” I whisper in his ear. “I want you to rip this dress off me and fuck me on every single surface in this gods forsaken house.” 

“Be careful princess. You don’t want me at attention in public.” Cassian purs in my ear holding me closer. 

“Maybe I do,” I smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

“Cruel, wicked female.”

Unlike the last ball when my brother and I arrive, we are one of the first people there, as the ball is being thrown in Eris and I’s honor. I spend the first hour or so making polite conversation until the rest of the crowd shows up. Thankfully the second they do the dancing is in full swing giving me ample time to converse with others as Eris sits on a dias at the end of the room. A place normally reserved for the High Lord alone, but it seems Beron wants to show off this union.

“She’s not here again,” I say to my brother. 

Rhys was one of the first people to dance with me tonight and I had never accepted an invitation so happily, well besides Cassian. When my father taught me to waltz Rhys was always there to help me. We must’ve spent hours dancing together while growing up. Dancing with him now was like living out the old days I so dearly wished for. 

“How do you know?” Rhys asked me as he spun me around once more. 

“I checked the guest list,” I say sadly. “It sounds like she and Tamlin never even leave his mansion.”

“Oh,” my brother says sadly, halting his search for the infamous cursebreaker. 

“You should call upon your bargain Rhys. Give her time to get to know you,” I tell him as he lifts me slightly and resumes the dance in time with the others. 

“I don’t want to force her to love me,” he admits sadly. 

I can’t help but feel my heartbreak. Sure Rhys wasn’t always the best at first impressions given his reputation, but he was an amazing brother and an amazing male. “Rhys please, she’s your mate. Maybe if she meets me I can help her see how amazing you are,” I say hopefully. 

“If Tamlin is what makes her happy I won’t stand in her way,” he explains to me and it’s like a punch to the gut. Before I can say anything to ease his pain a voice cuts in from beside me. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Azriel asks politely. 

“Not at all brother, just don’t step on my dear sister's toes,” Rhysand jests, passing my hand to Azriel’s.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Azriel smiles before leading me up into a waltz.

“What no crowds of women falling all over you?” I tease him as he gracefully moves around the dancefloor. 

“I’m actually using you to get away from a particularly nosey one,” he nods his head to a giddy blonde in the corner. She looks far too young for him and way too energetic to catch Az’s interest and I can’t help but laugh. 

“Glad to be doing the royal duty of helping my citizens,” I laugh as he spins me in a circle. 

“If you really want to help you could give me a kiss,” he tilts his head so his cheek is on full display for me. 

“Who would come after you first? Eris, Cassian, or my brother?” I roll my eyes. 

“Don’t forget Helion, he's here too,” Azriel laughs and sure enough, out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the High Lord of Day. 

“By the cauldron, I’ll never know peace,” I sigh as Az picks me up and twirls me around.

Even though it was the same ballroom as last time this one felt smaller. Every move I made felt more and more observed and scrutinized. On one end I had Eris sitting on a dias watching me like I was a pet he had let off its leash. On the other side stood a very grumpy and brooding Cassian who wouldn’t take his eyes off me and Eris, like he was waiting for the prince to make one wrong move. Never mind the rest of the guests who gawked at my dress or the ginormous ring on my finger.

“Eris is looking at me like he’s about to have me incinerated,” Azriel laughs in my ear. 

I can’t help but roll my eyes, on the next spin I see the prince doing just that. “That’s his way of saying he wants me back.” I sigh. 

“You want me to dance us away from him?” Az asks sweetly and quietly. 

“No, no I’ve already been avoiding him for far too long. He’ll come down here himself in a moment,” I say as the music stops and I bow to Az. 

“Good luck then princess,” he bows to me before he saunters off to where Cassain sits gripping a goblet of wine tighter than he ought to.

Like I’m either a blessing sent from above or a curse from below the crowds parts for me as I make my ebay towards Eris. The men gawk and lick their lips, the women gossip and whisper to one another. Once again I felt like a painting displayed at a museum, I was beginning to hate balls. 

“Have I told you how delicious you look in gold, my pet?” Eris says as I take my place standing next to his chair.  

“At least a dozen times tonight,” I sigh, snatching a glass of wine off a silver platter. 

“Come here,” Eris says, patting his lap and I know better than to disobey, not when all of Prythian is watching us. 

“What, I don't get to have my own throne?” I grumble, adjusting my dress from where I sit on his lap. The damned thing is one gust of wind away from exposing me to the whole room. 

“Wall ornament my dear, wall ornament,” he reminds me, lips trailing down my neck. “And how beautiful you look perched on my lap,” he smirks. 

“Yes and I’m one gust of wind away from flashing the whole room,” I grit, adjusting the dress once more. 

“Good, let them see what I get to indulge in,” he grins, lifting my goblet to his own lips. The overwhelming urge to spill the liquid all over his pressed jacket is strong but lord knows what would happen next. 

“Prince Eris,” mused a female voice drawing both of our attention. “I came to offer my congratulations to you and your future wife.” 

The woman standing before me was nothing short of beautiful. Her skin is fair and covered in freckles across her nose and cheeks. Eyes the color of the evergreen trees found in the winter court. Her hair is unbound and the deep auburn. She looked at Eris with a certain coldness and in that moment I realized that they might have been lovers at one point in time. Her eyes flitted to mine and my blood ran cold. She looked at me like I had taken her future away. I suppose I had. If Eris had any feelings for her he certainly didn’t show it.

“Thank you for your well wishes Lady Adarna. We hope to see you at the wedding next week,” he chided leaning back in his chair once more. 

The woman simply bowed and waltzed away. I mentally hoped she wouldn’t go near Cassian. Not that I didn’t trust him, but because I didn’t trust her for one moment.

As she scurried off to join a large group of lords and ladies conversing I watched as Eris’ eyes trailed her entire backside. His lips twitched up as if recalling a fond memory. Now was the perfect time to execute my backup plan. 

“She seemed angry to see me on your lap,” I muse, taking another sip of my wine. 

“So is every male in this room. You should be used to it by now.” he kissed my shoulder. 

“You fucked that woman didn’t you?” I turn my head to him letting him see the false anger in my eyes. I had to sell it. 

“Many times my pet,” he smiled proudly. “She used to beg me to come to her bed.”  

I scoff at his words, it was too hard to believe that any woman would beg to warm Eris’ bed.

“And you're ready for monogamy?” I raise an eyebrow at him, my question more like a test. Eris had been so in lust with me had forgotten about the other women he once bedded. Surely the idea of monogamy wasn’t one he relished, he needed a reminder. The very concept could be the only thing to stop the wedding. 

“Who said anything about monogamy?” he laughed while taking a sip of his wine. “I’m sure I’ll be insatiable after I deflower your tight cunt, but once you’re with child I’ll be left to my own devices. Someone will have to satisfy my needs,” he said like it was common knowledge. 

By the fucking cauldron this man was insane. But in his words, I saw an opening I never thought of. Maybe I didn’t need to call off the wedding, maybe I just needed to ensure I could sneak out the back door so to say when I needed to. 

“And what about me? Will I be allowed other partners?” I muse playing with the hair at the nape of his neck like it might soften him up. 

Eris barks out a hearty laugh and I already know I’ve lost this fight as his hand trails up my thigh. The fabric of my dress starts to shift and I find myself shifting around to fix it once more. 

“Of course not wife, I won’t have your cunt defiled by any other male,” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “You are purely mine, to taste, to fuck, to impregnate all I want.” 

“I’m not your wife yet,” I grumble trying to stand, but his hand on my front flattens and I’m pulled down onto his lap once more.

 My stomach pits as I feel what prods into my backside. He’s undeniably hard and my eyes search for Cassian. I have no doubt that Eris would fuck me right here on this dias just to prove a point to everyone in attendance. I search and search, but Cassian is nowhere to be found.  

“Oh really? Because you’re on my lap, on my throne and you’re wearing my ring,” He purrs lowly so only I can feel his hand dipping under my dress. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve cum on my fingers. So yes I will call you my wife preemptively because that’s what you are ‘Jewel of Prythian’, mine.” 

His hand cups my sex and my breath hitches in my throat. Tears prick my eyes and I put on a cold face. 

I will not cry.

I will not cry. 

I will not cry. 

I feel a finger slip through my folds and when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for his finger slips inside me. My eyes search the crowd to see if anyone is paying attention, but thankfully they are all drunk and lost in conversation or dancing. That is until my eyes land on Cassian’s. I could throw up from the embarrassment of it all. 

Eris quickly retracted his finger, bringing it to his lips and sucking it. 

“Good girl. You didn’t fight this time.” he muses, brushing a hand down my cheek. 

I take the quickest route out, “I think I see Viviane, she wants to speak to me,” I say quickly, standing from his lap. 

“Have fun pet,” Eris smirks, smacking my backside before I saunter down the steps making a beeline for Kallias and Viviane. 

My mind is a mess of a million different voices. Eris calling me his broodmare, Cassian begging me to end all this, the voice of my brother sacrificing himself for me, the sound of the children of Velaris playing in the streets. All of it is like a perfect storm. I could erupt at any moment and I don’t think anyone here would care unless my makeup smeared and ruined the image of “The Jewel” 

Like a magnet, my eyes flit up from my feet rushing through the crowd to find that hazel gaze that always brought me home. 

Cassian was making a beeline towards me. No, not towards me, to my right.

I passed him without so much as a word but as if some strange instinct kicked in, I reached out a hand and felt him do the same. Our fingers grazed each other where no one could see. His touch held a thousand words. 

I am here. I am with you. You are not alone. I love you.

My breathing calmed, my heart rate slowed, and the voices in my head quieted down to the point where all I heard was the white noise of those around me.  

And I was thankful, so thankful, for that simple touch that brought me home.

Cassian’s pov: 

I could kill him. 

I could fucking kill him for touching my mate that way. Cleave his head from his body. Castrate him. Rip him limb from limb and my rage still wouldn’t be sated. 

The look on her face as his hand dipped between her legs is one I wouldn't soon forget. She was so scared, so helpless and I just let it happen.

I marched towards the other end of the ballroom after grazing her hand in mine. I just needed to feel her once. Just needed to remember that she was mine. 

I pushed past the large swaths of curtains lining the room to where I knew there was a door that led to the cool night air outside. I just needed air. I needed to forget. 

y/n’s pov: 

“Well I hope to see you and your new husband visiting us in the winter court soon,” Viviane said, embracing me fondly.  

“And tell that brother of yours that I want to have a drink with him soon,” Kallias smiled putting a hand on my shoulder. 

“I’ll be sure to do both,” I smile warmly. 

While under the mountain, Kallias was one of the people who looked out for me. His relationship with my brother was strong, and since Rhys couldn’t ever be with me Kallias had stepped in as one of my protectors. I had only met Viviane once since Kallias shielded her from the horrors under the mountain, but her warm soul always spoke to me. I was happy to call the mates my friends. 

“I’ll do just that,” I smile, backing away from the High Lord and Lady. 

My eyes flit up to that cursed dias, looking for any sign of Eris’ gaze. Instead, I found him lounging about talking to one of the men who sexualized me at the last ball. My skin prickled at the memory. Their voices calling through my head as I made my way towards the edge of the room scouring the dancehall for another drink. 

Suddenly a hand gripped my exposed arm and pulled me behind the swaths of large fabric that lined the room. My back hit one of the many pillars as another hand was placed over my mouth to keep me from screaming, which I desperately wanted to do until I saw that beautiful shade of hazel that warmed my very bones. 

“Shh, it’s okay it’s just me,” Cassian whispered, releasing his hand that covered up over half of my face. 

“Oh Cassian,” I breathed, placing my hands on either cheek. The stubble from this morning mixed with the warmth of him setting my very soul on fire. 

“Are you okay?” he breathed pulling me into his chest, like he just needed to have me in his arms if only for a moment. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” I said frantically as I inhaled his scent. 

“He touched you,” Cassian glowered and I pulled my head back to meet his simmering eyes. 

My heart shattered right there at the pain within them. He had seen everything. Seen Eris’ hand roam where it shouldn't have, seen him bring that hand to his mouth. Seen him do this in front of everyone and I had instructed the general not to even flinch. It was cruel, I was crueler than even the prince of Autumn himself, 

“I’m sorry Cassian, I’m so so sorry,” I pleaded, brushing a hair out of his face that had escaped the bundle at the nape of his neck. “I’m yours Cassian, I’m yours.”  

“Y/n I-” 

“My heart,” I cut him off, placing his rough hand over the center of my too-exposed chest. “My heart belongs to you Cass.” 

In an instant his hands found my waist, pulling me towards him as his frame backed me into the marble pillar. His lips on mine in a fiery need. I met him touch for touch as I pulled the lapels of his jacket towards me, needing to feel every inch of him on me. Even more than that I needed him to erase every single fingerprint Eris had left on me. 

Cassian. 

My Cassian.

His hands brushed over the vast expanse of my exposed skin leaving a trail of warmth wherever they went. I had spent the night so freezing cold from my lack of coverage that the heat of his body against mine felt so delicious. 

His tongue parted my mouth and I felt every inch of him reclaiming me. My hands found that head of hair that I so often found myself gripping as he licked my most sensitive areas. My mind raced to last night where he spent a solid hour coaxing orgasm after orgasm from me. 

A woman laughed loudly from the other side of the curtain pulling both Cassian and I’s heads away from one another. We looked to see if the curtain had been pulled back but found nothing.

My core ground down on the bulge in his pants. Oh gods I needed him. I needed him now. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “Tell me to leave and wait till we get home.” 

“No,” I rasped pulling him down to my lips once more. 

I needed him now. Needed to feel all of him, needed to remember that no matter what Eris said or did to me he could never own me. He could own my body, sure. But my heart? My soul? The very essence of me? All of it belonged to Cassian. So much so that it consumed me. 

Cassian’s large hands reached beneath my thighs hoisting me up and pressing me further into the cold marble pillar. It didn’t take much for my dress to part for him exposing my core. My hands went to the ties of his pants frantically pulling them down until he sprang free. 

“Cassian, I need you,” I pleaded with him. 

“Shh I’m coming baby,” he assured me, pumping his cock a few times. 

The woman outside the curtain laughed again but this time neither of us looked to see if she had seen us. Let them see. I thought to myself. At this moment I was beyond caring about who was engaged to and who I wasn’t. Who was a prince and who was a bastard. Cassian had all of me, that's all that mattered. 

Cassian slid home filling me to the brim so harshly that I gasped. A calloused hand flew over my mouth and my eyes met his. His intense stare watching me take every luxurious inch of him could’ve been enough to make me cum right then and there. 

“Shh princess, I don’t like sharing.” he mused, thrusting into me even harder.

His hand fell from my mouth to brace against the pillar behind me as the other arm kept me upright. Every stroke threatened to have me screaming in pleasure. Calling out just how in love with this man I really was. But there were at least a couple hundred people on the other side of that thick curtain and though I hated to admit it, the game we were currently playing thrilled me to my core. 

“Fucking mine,” Cassian gritted through his teeth, thrusting harder for emphasis. This wasn’t just about releasing the tension for both of us. Oh no. This was my general reclaiming what was his, and cauldron if he didn’t have a hand holding me up I would’ve been weak at the knees. 

“All yours Cass,” I mumbled into his mouth as I pressed my lips into his, my fingers digging into the material of his jacket. 

“I love you y/n,” he breathed. “So fucking much.” 

“I love you too Cassian,” I smiled, feeling myself clench around him, as the knot in me was beginning to let go. 

“Fuck,” he hissed in my ear, burying his head in my shoulder. 

It was enough to have me cumming around his cock. My hand flew to my own mouth to stifle the loud moan my body involuntarily let out. My orgasm triggered Cassian's as he let out a smothered low groan burying himself deep inside me

As I tried my best to catch my breath Cassian pulled his head from my shoulder. I looked at his strained face and his messed up hair and began meticulously brushing every strand back into place. His eyes met mine and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“We did not just do that,” I giggled brushing his hair into submission. 

“I think we did princess,” he laughed looking down to where he was still seated inside me. “I’m sorry I got a little jealous there.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it was kinda hot.” I smile, running a hand down his cheek.

“Yeah?” he smirked, leaning in for another kiss.

“You two are fucking idiots!” Azriel hissed low coming from around the corner. 

Our heads turned immediately to find a very worried Azirel shrouded in his shadows. Cassian set me down and shielded my body with his growling at Az as he tucked himself back into his pants. 

“A warning would have been nice brother,” Cassian grumbled, making sure I was decent before stepping to the side. 

“You’re lucky my shadows found you before anyone else did,” Azriel argued. “Eris is looking for her,” he says nodding towards me. 

“Shit,” I curse, adjusting my dress and stepping towards the curtain. 

Cassian’s hand finds mine and pulls me back. My eyes snap to him and where there was once lust is now a pleading gaze that has tears threatening to spill from my own eyes. 

“Please don’t go to him, I can’t bear it any longer,” he begs me and gods does it shatter me to my core. 

“I have to Cass,” I say adjusting his jacket so it’s straight.

“Tell him you're ill and then come back to me,” he pleads. “Then we can go home.”

I know deep down that I shouldn't be leaving this early. It had only been an hour or two since the guests arrived and I hadn’t even spoken to Helion. But Cassian looked so broken. So broken and so hurt. I couldn’t put him through anymore tonight, and I wanted nothing more than for him to take me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay.

“Alright,” I say assuringly, squeezing his large hand. I take one look at Cassian and then at Azriel who looks worried as hell, like if I didn’t leave right this moment we would all be found out. 

So I reluctantly pulled my hand from his and parted the curtain that concealed us. Thankful for the shadows Azirel lent me, I was able to assimilate back into the crowd seamlessly. But as I made my way towards the dias where Eris sat impatiently I swore I could feel Cassian’s anger behind me and it threatened to bring down the room around us. 

Part 8

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[unnoticed-poison]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔! 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚅𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 °【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】°

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1 【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

Never thought I'd update this fast lol, guess my obsession is in full swing.

For those who haven't read the trailer chap you need to read it before this one.

The chaps are also posted on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev, the links will be posted soon ❣️

Anyways, enjoy.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆇˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

"Fuck!" The demoness cursed to herself, running as fast as she could through the streets, behind her, demons were being chased too, every 5 seconds or so, a bloodcurdling scream would erupt, signalling the death of another one of her fellow kind.

And it was almost her turn, she knew it was only a matter of time before that...𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 caught up to her as well.

She needed to find a place to hide, 𝘕𝘰𝘸.

"Move bitch!!"

The girl cried out in pain as she was shoved aside by another demon, sending her sprawling to the ground, the impact was hard and painful.

Before she could even try to stand up again, she was knocked over and trumpled upon by other demons, stepping over her body as they rushed by, breaking some of her bones in the process, and making her let out a heart-wrenching scream.

fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!

Fuck...

There was no hope for her to escape now...

"Please, make it quick..." She whispered softly, her breath caught in her throat when she felt a gentle breeze behind her, the sound of footsteps drawing close.

A quiet voice spoke, devoid of any emotions.

"Don't worry, I have no intention of torturing you, I need to reach my new high score anyway."

Oh..

As she took another deep breath, the demoness closed her eyes tightly, embracing the inevitable blow.

In a split second, thick crimson blood and pieces of brain splattered across the ground as the exterminator silently watched the now decapitated corpse go motionless.

"Number 1576." The angel said, removing the blood-spattered mask from her head.

Who was this particular angel? Of course, who else could it be other than 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇

You sighed, glancing down at the blood stains on your mask before wiping it off.

Only 474 more to go.

You thought, your eyes scanning the road for your next target.

Suddenly, you noticed slight movement from one of the shadowy alleys nearby and you went into action, quickly putting your mask back on, your wings fluttered as you soared toward the alley.

"AHHHHH!!"

You stopped mid-flight, your hammer suspended in the air as you were frozen in your tracks by the sight before you.

Are those..eggs? Wearing suits??

There were five in total, the little eggs were shaking in fear, huddling together for dear life as they stared at up you with wide eyes filled with horror.

What were you going to do with them?

You stood there motionless for a few moments as the eggs lay defenceless before you.

........

Putting down your hammer, you stepped closer and kneeled down.

"Please don't kill us.."

The eggs closed their eyes as they waited for their swift death.

........

....

Huh?

Why aren't they smashed to pieces yet?

Opening their eyes, they saw one of them staring in wonder as the angel gently stroked its shell.

"You little things aren't my target, there's no need to worry." You whispered, your voice like a soothing lullaby, in an effort to calm them down.

Your touch was smooth and comforting, causing the egg's eyes to soften as he leaned into your hand with trust.

Seeing that, the other eggs shaking subsided as they allowed themselves to relax as well.

Feeling pleased, you smiled under the mask, before standing up again and looking around.

Shit, you wasted precious time.

You need to-

Huh?

Feeling a tap on your leg, you looked down.

One of the eggs was tapping on your leg repeatedly, gesturing towards the darkness.

"Boss! Boss!"

You couldn't help but tilt your head, what was this little one trying to say?

You soon understood when you heard a loud crash ahead of you.

"SHIT! Stupid machine!"

Oh.

𝘖𝘩.

Wonderful.

You thought as you headed over to the source of the noise.

You soon came across an entire airship, torn apart and hanging limply between two buildings, you then noticed a black snake cleaning the dust off his hat, looking completely unbothered, as if it was just another normal day.

Looks like an easy target, great!

The snake kept muttering to himself, not hearing you silently approaching until you were right behind him.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, the man looked over his shoulder with a raised brow, it quickly turned into a terrified look as he jumped back, falling to the ground, his hat also falling off in the process.

"Wait! I-"

"I'll have to stop you right there, begging won't do you any good now." You smirked, raising the giant hammer above your head. "It's nothing personal really."

Fuck!

He can't die now! He hasn't beaten Alastor yet! He has so much to live for!!

Just as the hammer was about to make contact with his head, you paused yet again as you stared down.

???

"No!"

The little eggs from before stood in front of the snake protectively, they were visibly trembling, but their determination to protect the man did not waver.

"Why-"

"Don't kill him!"

.......huh.

You raised a brow, looking at the eggs standing guard then at the snake, who was glaring daggers at you, his gaze intense and sharp, but the slight fear was visible in his eyes as well.

........

A moment of silence had passed before you turned back to the man.

"Did you make those?"

Huh?

The man's expression shifted from fear and rage to outright confusion. "What?"

You gestured to the eggs with your hammer and asked again. "Were you the one who made those eggs?"

"Ah..yes? And..?"

You hummed as you leaned back.

"Make me one."

...What?

" Excuse me?"

"You heard me, make me one of those and I'll spare you and protect you from the rest of the exterminators, refuse and I'll get rid of you now and take those anyways." Your voice was unhurried and clear as you shrugged. " Your choice."

The threat could not have been more clear.

"I.."

"Make her one boss!"

"Are we gonna get a sibling?"

"You shut up!" He shouted at the eggs, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

He turned back to you and coughed. "Of course, I can make you one! Making one of those useless things is a piece of cake for someone as great as me!" He pointed up to the airship. " If you could take me up there that would be great."

You nodded. "Good." You said, picking up the serpent and carrying him bridal-style, the action causing his cheeks to turn red with embarrassment again, avoiding eye contact as you waited for the rest of the eggs to hold on to you before slowly flying up to the airship to not accidentally make one of the eggs fall off.

Once reaching there, you put the man down and stepped back. "Get to work."

"But-"

You waved the hammer lightly.

"Less talking and more working, now make me the damn egg before I change my mind."

𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇𓆇

As you sat atop a table, legs crossed, waiting for the man to finish making the egg, you played with the other eggs to pass the time.

"I need to think of a name for it.." you mumbled, one of the eggs heard you.

"How about Omelet!"

"No, Olaf!"

"Frank is better!"

"But MY name is Frank!"

You sat quietly, nodding along with everything they were saying, though not truly listening as you tuned them out completely.

Hmmm..

Hold on.

You hummed as you recalled something.

Don't snakes have two coc-

"I'm done!"

Ah.

"Took you long enough." You frowned as you got off the table and walked over.

The serpent rolled his eyes. " Half my tools were destroyed or misplaced during the crash your little 'friends' caused, here you go anyway."

He held out the egg for you to take, the suit and cute little hat were identical to the ones the others were wearing, you and the egg stared at each other silently, before it held out its arms towards you.

You put aside your weapon and carefully took hold of the egg.

"Hello little guy."

The egg smiled happily at you. " Hello! Are you my boss?"

The serpent nodded. " Yes yes, she's your boss so you have to listen to everything she says!" He glanced at you. "Sooo what do you think?"

You nodded, pleased with the results. " I love him, great job."

The serpent puffed out his chest in pride. " Of course! This was nothing! And for your information, I'm the great Sir-"

You ignored what he was saying as you turned back to the egg and began to think of a name.

'𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.....𝘈𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵!'

"I think I'll name you...Scramble."

"I like it!" He said, making you chuckle as you gently rubbed your cheek against his.

You might not have reached your high score for this year, but it was not a problem, you can always compensate for it.

Next year, you'll go for 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆇˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Hope you guys liked the chap ❣️

Those little eggs are so cute I couldn't resist!

Btw, my friend said 'Imagine if he gave birth to those eggs or something' I couldn't stop thinking about it and I couldn't resist so I made this :

Mc : make me one of those and I'll spare you

Sir Pentious: What happened to hello how are you? Take me on a date at the very least! How shameful!

Mc :*confused exterminator noise*...ok

And they spend the rest of the day going on a date while the world is in shambles behind them

Sometime later

Lute: Where the hell were you! You didn't come back in time!

Mc, with the egg in a basket: I became a mother.

Lute :....the 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 did you just say?

The egg: •⩊•♡︎

[bits-and-babs]

I just read Playboy and... Oh boy. Damn. Bashful Joel is *the best.* Also, I'm so curious if they woke up Ellie lmao that would be horribly, deliciously awkward

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡

pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

word count: 819

warnings: awkward. Very subtle references to smut. Not proof read.

note: I loved this ask so much that I had to write it just for funsies. I think I try really hard (too hard) sometimes to be a serious writer when sometimes I’m in need of a little bit of fun! See the fic that inspired this ask here. PLEASE NOTE: at the end of this there are two dashes ( - - ) there is a glitch removing the last paragraph of my fic so this is the only way I can curb it!

Fuchsia blurs across Ellie’s cheekbones, encroaching on the skin of her throat and exposing her obvious discomfort in the silvery reflection of the wing mirror. You chew on the inside of your cheek raw as you watch her for hours, her eyes staring into the obscure image of the passing evergreen outside the window as though she was experiencing shell shock.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Kid,” Joel speaks up through the silence, his eyes drifting up to the wing mirror glass and assessing the image of Ellie’s reflected mortification. Outwardly cringing, she glances forward at Joel and shrugs awkwardly.

“Yeah, well, you were ‘uncharacteristically’ loud last night,” she mumbles under her breath, and you swear you feel your insides curdle. Joel’s eyebrow arches slightly in question, but you know exactly what she’s touching on, swallowing back your urge to explain and apologise.

“Gotta speak up, Kiddo. Can’t hear you on that side,” Joel reminds Ellie of his deaf ear, and you find yourself closing your eyes in mortification at his insistence to find out what was bugging the poor, tortured girl.

Ellie clears her throat with a shake of her head, sprawling out across the back seat in a dramatic flop.

“It’s not important.”

Joel, frustrated now, aims his scrutiny at you. His bronze eyes study your discomfort; his eyebrows pinched together when you form your lips around the words ‘she knows.’

The result is almost instantaneous—Joel’s grip on the leather steering wheel creaks, his knuckles white. You can practically see his stomach drop, and he lets out an awkward chuckle that lacks humour. Resting your elbow against the curve of the door, you hide your eyes behind your fingers.

“… Ellie,” Joel speaks tentatively, and you swear you can feel the almost nauseous discomfort radiating off the teenage girl in waves, “… Uh… When-“

“‘A man and a woman love each other very much’? Are you fuckin’ serious, Joel? Are you about to give me the birds and bees talk?!” Ellie scoffs, shaking her head, “You really are shoddy at this.”

“I didn’t-… I ain’t had to talk about this before,” Joel grumbles, teeth gritting as he rubs at the back of his neck to wipe the nervous sweat away.

“You don’t have to. You were both so noisy I got a pretty clear picture!” She pointed out viciously, and you swear you wished a Bloater would just run at the truck and flip it over, knocking you out and putting you out of your misery. You’re cringing so hard you swear you’ve tied your intestines in a knot.

“Shit-… ‘M sorry, Ellie. You shouldn’ta heard that…” Joel mumbles, and it’s like he’s getting his knuckles rapped with a ruler by his maths teacher. You’d never heard the gruff, unapologetic man sound so meek.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and it almost tempts you to peek through your digits and see what is happening. So quiet and tense is the atmosphere that the running engine of the ageing vehicle sounds like a mountain avalanche, rumbling within the contents of the van’s metal shell. You suppose a huge rock hitting you head on would be more optimal than this utterly humiliating conversation.

Joel damn near stalls the truck when Ellie speaks up, catching you both off guard with what she chooses to say next.

“… So… *Is* he smaller than the average American dick length?”

“Ellie!” You and Joel yell out in shock, and Ellie almost falls off the seat in her intense laughter, clutching at her stomach at the evident shame that decorates Joel’s expression.

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya! I don’t wanna know that shit!” She giggles, wiping tears from her waterline with her knuckles.

“Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, shaking your head and leaning it back against the headrest.

“No thanks, that’s what Joel is for.”

“Ellie, I swear I am gonna kick you out of this truck and make you walk to Wyoming,” you insist, pointing towards the door handle beside you with zeal.

“Got it, got it,” she chuckles, sitting up again, “But don’t think I’m lettin’ you off that easy. I hear anything nasty? I’m screaming so a runner comes and kills us all. It’s less painful than listening to what I heard last ni-…”

When you dare to look, poor Joel is staring vacantly ahead of him as he drives, looking as though he’s really wondering just why the *fuck* he decided to take this job from Marlene and whether or not Ellie would be able to find her own way to Wyoming if he dropped her off on the roadside and abandoned her. Surely scrappy little Ellie could deliver herself with a map and a single cereal bar for protection?

-

[pascalispretty]

Love Shack

Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Joel gets a boner, forced proximity, only one bed, friends to lovers, kissing, implied smut

Summary: Stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm, you and Joel have to share the only bed. And you have to do your best to hide the crush you've been nursing on him. (ao3).

Notes: Another secret santa! This one is for @sp00kymulderr - Merry Christmas lovely!! My thanks as always to @misscharlielulu for listening to me agonise about every tiny detail. Title is silly, but I couldn't think of anything else.

You had been a little intimidated when Joel first showed up in Jackson, his not-daughter trailing behind him. He was tall and broad, and often stomped around town with a face like thunder. Gradually though, he had settled in to life in Jackson. After a winter storm sent a tree branch crashing through your roof, he was put in charge of fixing the hole. A contractor in a former life, according to Maria, he had done his job well.

Being in such proximity to him made you notice new things about him. The softness with which he would speak about Ellie when you offered to give them the game of Jenga that had been on the shelves when you’d moved in. The obvious care he seemed to take in his work. The polite nod and sincere thank you when you made him tea after a long day toiling up on your roof.

The more you came to know Joel, the less intimidating he seemed. It was a sentiment that was shared by many of the people in Jackson. People who went on patrol with him spoke warmly of his talents – his skill at building traps for animals, his talent for picking off Clickers with Tommy’s borrowed sniper rifle.

On the occasions you were assigned to patrol with him, you generally came back to Jackson having learned something new. A different type of snare for rabbits, or a better way to tie a deer he’d shot to one of the horses.

The best thing, though, was the music.

There was a piano in the back of the mess hall that had been there ever since you arrived in Jackson. Gracie, the older lady who’d taken you under her wing when you arrived, had taught you how to play; before the outbreak, she’d given lessons. And, at Ellie’s insistence, Joel had played with you once or twice in the mess hall, accompanying you on the guitar while you played. You wish you had a guitar right now.

It would give Joel something else to focus on other than your current predicament.

The snow hadn’t been that heavy when you left Jackson to go on patrol with Joel. But the snow started coming down so thickly that you could barely see Joel and his horse in front of you, and the wind screamed through the trees like some new and horrifying variant of Infected.

Before long, you and Joel had been left with a choice; to seek shelter where you could, or to try and go back to Jackson. Joel had managed to guide you to a cabin used as an outpost by other patrols. There was a ski resort not far from the town, and little log cabins still dotted the landscape. Half of them were in ruins; one had burned out leaving only the shell of a corner behind.

You, Joel and the horses had crowded into the one that seemed the least derelict. It was a tiny place. The horses were left in the remains of the open space that contained a kitchen and a moth-eaten sofa. It left the small bedroom for you and Joel to hole up in. Sitting awkwardly on the sagging bed, you can hear Joel breaking up some of the remaining furniture in the other room to build a fire.

“This place is barely a cabin,” Joel groused, building the fire up with broken table and chair legs. “It’s a glorified shack.” You carry on crumpling up the pages of an old newspaper you’d found under the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you start. He had wanted to try for the lodge further up the hill, but you had been reluctant to push the horses any harder. A deep sigh escapes from him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. You were right, we shouldn’t have pushed the horses. ‘s just that this place is so small.” He’s not wrong about that. The bed is shoved right up against the wall, and with the horses in the other room, the only other space is a tiny bathroom you don’t even want to think about right now.

The fire flickers slowly to life, and you and Joel hang up your outer layers to dry. You still wish for music, for something to break the awkward silence between you. The storm shows no sign of letting down; the little cabin holds in the warmth of the fire, but it’s not enough to keep the chill out entirely.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel says. “I’ll keep watch in the other room.”

“Who could find us all the way out here, in this storm?” You point out. It’s not like you want to exacerbate the awkwardness in the air, but sharing a bed might at least help keep you both warm.

So the two of you begrudgingly settle into the bed. You lie between Joel and the wall, trying to ignore the draft creeping in from some miniscule crack near your feet. It’s so quiet; the sound of the wind outside is muffled, so only the crackle of the fire and the occasional shift of the horses in the next room disturbs the quiet. When you whisper a ‘good night’ to Joel, it sounds almost deafening in the hush that’s settled over the cabin.

You’re not sure how long you doze for. Only that, when you wake, you realise Joel has moved closer to you in the night. Instead of lying stiffly several inches away, he’s curled around you from behind. And, pressing insistently against the small of your back, Joel is unmistakably hard.

You nearly choke on your own tongue when you realise it, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He must be having quite the dream. Trapped between his body and the wall, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. You’ve always been painfully aware of how attractive Joel is, but you’ve never considered that he might reciprocate that feeling; you settled for the friendship he slowly offered, the bond over music.

Time is meaningless out here, without even the sun to indicate whether it’s noon or night. You’ve no notion of how long you lie there for, contemplating an escape route. You want to avoid the possibility of an awkward conversation, of Joel getting the slightest hint of your crush on him. Even thinking of it as a crush sounds hopelessly juvenile.

It’s just your luck that a log collapses in the fire, the wood clattering as it rolls out of the fireplace and onto the floor. Joel is up immediately, picking up the unburned end and shoving it back into the fire before it can catch the timber floor. You sit frozen on the bed, unable to speak first, praying that Joel somehow hasn’t even noticed.

“…shit.” Joel still has his back to you, and something sinks in your gut at how disappointed he sounds. “Shit, I’m so- I’m sorry.”

“It happens, don’t worry. It’s just biology.” You shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. There’s the snapping of more wood as Joel vents his frustration on the remaining chair legs, breaking them and throwing them into the fire.

“Feels like a shitty thing to do.”

“Well, you could have bought me a drink first,” you tease. To your surprise he – well, he doesn’t laugh. He more just huffs out of his nose. But he sounds amused by it, at least.

“Now you sound like Ellie. She’s always tryin’ to get me to be nicer to you. Says I owe you a drink every time you let me sing when we play.” Rather than stay awkwardly standing, he opts to kneel by the bed instead. Up close, you can see just how lovely and dark his eyes are, and see the smattering of grey hair in his beard.

“You don’t owe me anything for that. I like it when you sing.” He’d sung the House of the Rising Sun for you by way of an audition, and you’d been immediately enamoured with his rough but lovely voice. It reminds you of the country singers that Eugene listens to on tape.

“Well, I like it when you play.” Joel’s eyes sweep over you, and he gives another deep sigh. “I am sorry. ‘s not fair to you.”

“Joel, it’s really okay. I didn’t mind.” Are you crazy, or did he look at you with more interest when you said that?

“How can you not mind some old man groping you in your sleep?” He asks, shaking his head. “I understand if you don’t wanna go on patrol with me any more when we get back, I can talk to Tommy-”

“Joel,” you say firmly, cutting him off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but you push on. “I really didn’t mind. Really. And I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to get back up here with me.” You might have just ruined whatever friendship you had with him, but you can’t bear him beating himself up over it any longer. He raises an eyebrow at you, eyes skimming over your body.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He asks eventually, leaning in closer.

“No. I- I want you to.” You worry you sound pathetic, but Joel doesn’t seem to think so. His eyes watching your face closely for any sign of discomfort, he climbs back onto the bed and lies down beside you. Your faces are only inches apart. You have nothing else to lose, certainly no dignity left.

You lean in and kiss him.

His lips are soft and full against yours, and Joel barely hesitates before he’s kissing you back. You have no idea if your friendship will be salvageable after this, but right now, with Joel’s lips against yours, you’re not sure you care. One of his large hands rests on your waist, pulling your body closer to him as he deepens the kiss.

Later, when the fire has died down, and the storm is starting to abate, you’ll wonder how exactly it happened. How your clothes came to be strewn about the tiny bedroom, how Joel’s come ended up drying on your thigh.

But right now, you’re content to melt into Joel and enjoy whatever he has to give you.

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @irishavengersassemble

[meganlpie]

I Can Still Sense Him

Based on this request: Hey, if requests are still open I was going to ask for a Supernatural request where the reader (fem) is Gabriel’s human mate. When he dies shes devastated and everyone says she’s delusional because she can still…sense him. But then he really is alive and decides he can’t take hiding anymore and just comes back out into the open To be with her

Here you are, lovely! As always, I do not own ANY SPN characters. They belong to the writers/creators of the show.

Warnings: Destined mates, angst(mentions of death), fluff, and it's a little short.

Pairings: Gabriel x fem!reader, The Winchesters.

Most people would hate someone that caused the "death" of a person they cared for multiple times. But when you officially met Gabriel, you didn't see the same Trickster that the Winchesters saw. You saw someone broken and lonely. Someone a lot like you. You also immediately saw that he was not a typical Trickster. You'd seen his wings. A sign of an angel's destined mate.

          So of course, you'd pleaded with the Winchesters to let him go. They had trusted your judgment and did as you asked. After that, Gabriel made a habit of popping in to see you every now and again. You certainly didn't mind. Even if you hadn't known you were destined mates, the connection between you two was undeniable. You spent as much time as you could with him.

           He made you laugh, no matter the situation, and after a while, you could not deny that you fell in love with him. You got butterflies whenever he turned those honey-colored eyes on you. Or when he smiled at you. You wanted to be with him as often as possible. But, before you could admit to the mischievous angel that you loved him, he was gone. Taken from you.

          After the Winchesters and Castiel told you about Gabriel's death, you were devastated to say the least. You completely shut down. Hardly ate or slept, refused to hunt. You became a shell of yourself for what seemed like a long time. But just when you were at your lowest, you started to feel…something. You couldn't describe it, but it almost felt like Gabriel was still with you in some way. There were times you felt so at ease, like you could feel him hugging you close or hear him whispering in your ear. It brought you peace whenever you were alone.

          When the Winchesters questioned why you suddenly started acting like yourself again, you couldn't really explain it. You knew they'd jump to the different, albeit possible, conclusion that you were being haunted by something else. Or they'd think you were crazy. But the two men were very persistent and didn't trust sudden changes in the people they cared about or hunted with. So you had to try and explain.

           "I-I don't know how to explain it, guys. I just…started feeling better. Like Gabriel's still with me. Like he's here and helping me." As you suspected, the two exchanged a look like they didn't believe you.

          "Gabriel's gone, Y/N," Sam said softly, earning an eye roll from you. "I know that, Sam! Can't you let me have just a little sense of peace for once?! I lost the love of my life, something I thought you of all people would understand!" You didn't wait for him to reply before you got up and stomped out of the room. Was it a low blow? Yes. But you felt Sam had it coming in that moment.

          For weeks after that, you didn't speak to Sam at all and talked to Dean only when you had to. He had not said anything to you about your feelings, but you knew he thought you were insane as well. Even Cas thought there was something wrong with you. Still, you held onto that feeling, that sense, that Gabriel was somehow still with you. Even if it was only in spirit. Then, it happened.

          You were in Vegas (go figure) with the boys on a hunt. The hunt lead you to a hotel room. Dean wanted to go crashing into the room like an 80s TV cop, but you rolled your eyes and knocked on the door. The door opened and you swore your heart stopped.

          "Hey, Sweetcheeks. Miss me?"

          "G-Gabriel?" you squeaked out as tears formed in your eyes and you lowered your weapon. He smiled at you. Turning to Dean beside you, you asked, "Am I dreaming? Am I dead?" Dean simply shook his head, unable to form words. You wasted no time in launching yourself into the archangel's arms. Gabriel let out a huff followed by a light laugh.

          "I missed you too, Lollipop." You gripped onto the back of his shirt as he held you. "I knew I felt you." He laughed again. "Sorry I disappeared on you. I had to make dear Luci think I was gone. My…buddy Loki's been letting me hide out as him for a while, but I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to see you again," his whispered to you. "I'm just gonna…" Dean stated, trailing off before turning to leave you and Gabriel alone.          

Gabriel lead you fully into the room and shut the door. "The guys thought I was crazy," you stated and Gabriel shook his head. "I wanted to make sure you knew I'd never leave you if I didn't have to." You gripped onto him again. Truthfully, you were terrified to let go. "It's alright," Gabriel whispered, "I'm sticking around for a while. I'm not leaving my mate alone again." And when his lips met yours for the first time in so long, you knew he was telling the truth.

(a/n: I hope you like it! Also, how do we feel about Gabriel calling the reader "Lollipop"? I thought it was a cute nickname, but if you hate it, I won't use it in future Gabriel fics.)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @motleymoose @esoltis280 @stories-by-shanna-p @dark-angel-is-back @supernatural4life2022

SPN Tags: @jotink78

[thestarlitmidnight]

🌙A Court Beneath the Silent Nightsky🌙

Summary: Kaela, survivor of the massacre on one of the temples by Hybern. After being the sole survivor, she falls into silence, refusing to speak to anyone. She is lost in haze of overwhelming grief and depression, which rendered her unable to function properly anymore. She is send into the library in Velaris, the safe sanctuary for the survivors as her high priestess can no longer to bare the sight of her suffering in her temple. Kaela is accompanied by ever present Morrigan, who took it as her mission to break this brooding strike of hers. Since the first night spend at the library, she meets bewitching stranger with violet eyes that steals souls with mere look into them, who seems to be ever lasting presence ever since their first encounter, seeming as broken as she feels. Will they be able to be source of strength for each other? Will they overcome the endless dances with theirs demons and be finally happy? Fandom: ACOTAr Pairing: RhysandXFemOC Warnings: This story is dealing with themes of depression, PTSD and heavy subjects like those, please, if you are easily triggered, better to skip this one. Word Count: 13 013 Chapters: 7 Master List

Chapter One

I never believed that one day, I will be standing there. Empty and unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Once a fierce soul which never seemed to dim the light somehow burned out. No passion, no desire or need. 

I just existed, witnessing the time go by, day by day, month by month, year by year. Just a distant witness of the life lived by those who dared to experience it. 

Maybe if the time was right, maybe if the world would not be so cruel, maybe if the people would be kinder. Always some kind of maybe lingered in my mind. Maybe then I would be there with them, living the life that was meant to be lived by me. 

Yet there I was, sitting on the edge of a cliff, where our temple was located. The morning ceremony was over and till lunch I was supposed to be scrubbing the floors in the south part of the temple. The right word is supposed. There was no force strong enough in this world to force me back there.

The high priestess ment it well, I'm sure of it, after all she believed that trauma should be faced and not avoided. It's easier for her to say when it's not her facing it. 

Instead of doing my duty, I ran to hide in my favorite hiding place till the lunch ceremonies began. It was a rather shit place to hide, everyone knew about it and if any of the high priestesses would desire to confront me about neglecting my duties, they could simply cross the main clearing in front of the entrance gates and come to this cliff, where evening service was held during autumn. 

Starting far into the world, witnesses the day go and let the gloom eat my will to live away. So far it worked wonders, as the gloom scared even the worst of memories away. It worked way better than scrubbing the floors with mind bored to death so much that it welcomed the dark memories with open arms just to distract itself. 

"This can't go on Kaela," the voice of the high priestess who had my group under her wings echoed through the afternoon air, which was getting chillier.

I kept my silence, not even raising my eyes to look at her, there was no reason to do so. She will give me lectures about facing my fears, breaking them, showing them that I'm stronger than them. That what didn't kill me surely made me stronger. 

That statement was wrong in so many places. 

How I wish it did killed me. Spared me of living in the aftermath of all of that. Constant pain, fear and resignation. Living long enough to see the shell of the person I used to be. 

No, it might not kill me, but it made me weaker, not stronger. 

Hence the silence which became so familiar to me, that I didn't even remember how my own voice sounds. Since that cursed night, not a sound came out of me. 

"You are fading away my girl, I can't bear to simply watch as you let those barbaric monsters win in the end," her voice was coloured with concern, as anyone else who was cursed to watch over me. 

I would prefer to just be left alone to be lost freely. Let the pain and negative feelings consume me completely, sparing me in the end from this endless cycle of living as a survivor.

'What of it, if they win, it will be my win as well.' 

I thought bitterly and my fingers started to pick on the dead skin on my thumb. 

"Our High Lord is back and he prepared a safe place for girls like you," her voice was now way more careful, gentler than before, as if this fact could break me. 

What was left there to be broken?

I didn't look at her, nor acknowledged that I heard her. It was not my choice to be made after all. If she thought it was the right thing to do, then I will be sending there as it's her who has me in her care. 

The sting in my heart was even worse as I looked in front of me at the beautiful view in front of me that I will soon be robbed of. Even the last bits of normalcy will be taken away from me. 

"This is Morrigan, she will accompany you on your way there, you are leaving now," the high priestess suddenly sounded determined, stating her final command towards me. "It's for your own good my girl." 

As if. It's likely she grew sick of having my sulking presence bring gloom to her temple. My temple. Neglecting my duties and showing up only at the services and ceremonies. It was lasting way too long for her to tolerate, that's for sure. 

It was long even for me. 

"Hello there Kaela, I'm Morrigan," the unknown voice said from behind me, but I was unable to turn and look at her. 

The need to savor as much of my view as possible was keeping me way too busy. 

"We can depart as soon as you are ready," she added with a light, easy voice, forcing me to sigh. 

What's the point in waiting? What's the point in savoring the last bits of the view when it won't solve anything? It will be better to just keep going and have this over with, so I can get some time alone and keep my brooding game high enough to keep the demons on bait. 

I stood up, turning around to face the two females who were awkwardly standing there, looking at me. It should be me who is awkward, not them, but I was way too tired to even care to feel embarrassed by the lack of will to live. 

Morrigan was beautiful, dressed in crimson red pants and blouse, her golden blonde hair looking perfectly combed and well cared for. The aura around her was welcoming and warm. No danger coming from her at all. 

"We can go then?" She asked, extending her long, lean arm into the air, her nail painted by the same shade of red as her clothes. Probably her favorite color then? 

I just walked towards her, not accepting her hand, simply there was not enough strength in me to even lift my arm, and I stopped beside her, ready for her to swoosh me away. I'm sure she can winnow, because if she were to climb all those stairs to reach our temple, she wouldn't look this perfectly put together. 

Morrigan just smiled, not discouraged at all by my attitude and she took my hand with surprisingly gentle touch and with a swift swoosh, we left my temple, my home, my battlefield and my grave.

Chapter Two

[nullen-void]

What Use Are Explorers In An Empty World?

[Hollow Knight/Bug Fables]

Part 2

---------------------------------------

Hallownest. The last and only kingdom, so they say. Beyond it are only endless wastes or endless stone, tunnels long since collapsed, and incomprehensible horrors. If there was ever anything beyong her borders, none remain who are able or willing to talk about it. There is nowhere else.

Kabbu always thought that that was a load of nonsense. After all, he knew he came from the north... but that was all he knew. There were newcomers to Hallownest all the time, but they rarely knew more than snippets of before crossing the border. Master Lurien said that they came to Hallownest feral, mere animals, and it was only after arriving that the Pale Light granted them the spark of intelligence.

Kabbu... doubted, though he would never say as much out loud. He remembered happy faces and jokes shared among friends, even if the names and faces were missing. The feeling remained to fill the void left by the memories. And he very definitely traveled to the kingdom with two others, based on what the ants who saved him from the garpede said. They were not so lucky, but Kabbu had returned to the scene of the attack since. He knew in his heart that they gave their lives to defend him. Would a mere animal do such a thing?

But he would never voice these thoughts out loud. The bugs of Hallownest worshipped the King as a god and believed everything he said, and Lurien was among the most devout. If the King said that there was nowhere else, and Kabbu said that that couldn't be true, Kabbu would be shunned for daring to voice dissent.

...Perhaps he was being paranoid. Lurien was a good bug, and a good boss. His fanaticism only served to make him an ever more effective Watcher, and Kabbu respected him dearly.

Maybe, Kabbu thought, if he could see the Pale King in the shell, he'd get why everyone else revered him so. But as he looked out over the City of Tears, watching the endless rain splash against the glass, all he could think was that maybe he should have stayed with the Ants. Elizant II had her own hangups, but she didn't hide from her subjects and demand worship. She ruled by action, proving herself in every decree. No ant went hungry in the Colony's borders.

From here, Kabbu aimed his telescope at a darkened alley. A loose lumafly fluttered over the head of a destitute butterfly, his wings waterlogged and torn. Kabbu felt for the poor bug... but as a Watcher all he could do was make a note of it and hope it found its way to someone who could do something about it.

It wouldn't. They never did. All that came of it was a reprimand for not paying attention to important things.

"Kabbu."

The beetle jumped, fumbling his telescope. He managed to catch it before it could break on the floor, and he turned to looked up at the robed figure of his boss. "Yes, Master Lurien!"

"At ease," the bug of indeterminate species said, waving an arm. "Are you well, Kabbu?"

"Of course, sir!"

Lurien stared at him through the hole in his mask. Kabbu could see no eyes, but he felt the gaze all the same. "...You were sighing again, Kabbu."

He was? He hadn't noticed. He sighed, then caught himself as he realized he did it again. "I apologize, Master Lurien. I just... don't feel like I'm making a difference, up here."

Lurien tilted his head. "Don't feel like--Kabbu, you've spotted five robberies and four assaults this past week alone. Last month you provided ongoing reports during an active pursuit that were critical in preventing that murderous spider from getting away. You're a valuable member of the Watchers."

Kabbu fidgeted. "But who is comforting the victims? Who is helping the lay-bug with their troubles? The King's automotons are formidable, but they lack the care that a normal guard would. I am stopping criminals, but am I helping bugs?"

Lurien leaned back, absorbing that. "...Hm."

"Please don't misunderstand me!" Kabbu added hastily. "I enjoy the work, I do! I know I'm doing good work up here, but--"

"I understand." Lurien rubbed his chin through the mask, a curious quirk of his Kabbu never understood. "You know, Kabbu, you've built up some vacation time. Perhaps it would do you good to get out of the Spire for a few days."

"Oh, Master Lurien, I couldn't possibly--"

"And if," Lurien said, raising his voice to cut Kabbu's protests off, "In that time, you happen to patronize the Soul Sanctum, perhaps you could pick me up a souvenir? I've been meaning to go on one of their guided tours, but all these missing bugs cases are occupying my time too much."

Kabbu blinked, trying to parse the odd emphasis in Lurien's speech. "...I--wait, hold on. Are you suggesting--"

Lurien raised a digit to hush him. "I would never say anything ill towards my venerable colleague the Soul Master, of course," Lurien added, with heavy sarcasm. "The Sanctum is the foremost compository of learning in Hallownest, after all."

Kabbu thought furiously. He wasn't stupid, he could read between the lines. "And of course, if I see anything untoward," he mused under his breath, "I can act in my capacity as a Watcher to--Yes, of course you're right, sir," Kabbu agreed. "I have been under the weather lately. A break is just the thing I need, yes sir."

Lurien chuckled. "At ease, again, Kabbu. I understand the desire to be down on the ground with the Kingsmoulds. You are far from the first Watcher to say as much. Maybe after you return, I can talk to His Majesty about letting officers patrol alongside them. There ARE still tasks the Moulds are ill-equipped for, I've noticed."

Kabbu's eye widened, but he pushed his surprise down quickly. "Yes sir, thank you sir."

Lurien turned to leave. "Finish your shift, Kabbu. I need to find someone to cover your station while you're 'on vacation,' hah."

[mothpawbs]

random, but do you have any headcanons about the dragonets of destiny?

indeed i do! i've been obsessed with the dod since i read the first book (IN 2012!!!) so i've had a lot of time to think about them. mostly i have design headcanons though, since it's harder for me to think up personality/character headcanons, but here's a short list!

CLAY

i headcanon mudwing bigwings as having tattoos of their troop's talonprints on their wings, so he has the other dod's talons on his

he has to wear a leg brace after the dragonbite viper wound, as he has permanent joint/nerve damage and some muscle atrophy

also, he became interested in medicine while being treated for the viper bite, and enjoys it as a way he can protect those he loves without hurting others <3

he and sunny are also enjoying learning to cook together!

TSUNAMI

she may have coral's colors, but she bears a striking resemblance to gill. she also has pink accents, as i headcanon that as a major trait in the seawing royal family

she wears a shell earring in one ear to remember her seawing family. i don't think she'd enjoy wearing pearl strings, they would get in the way too much

has nightmares not only about killing gill, but about being restrained and unable to protect the other dod. i think being chained to a rock while glory was going to be killed/fighting in the arena did a number on her.

is the big protective den mama of the jade mountain winglets. no getting past her to her students!

GLORY

dull scales, but that helps her blend into shadows more than other rainwings, who are used to hiding in the splendor of the rainforest, while she learned from hiding in a cave.

is trying really hard to connect to her heritage. this includes attending lessons with friends and dragonet classes to learn rainwing crafts and skills. she likes trying out different fruits.

i think it would be neat if she made a co-council of rainwings and nightwings for leading both tribes, and had a nightwing ruler alongside her. who that would be, idk.

has been working with a lot of queens to establish trade agreements and things, which gives her a lot of hot goss on the other royal happenings. i think her favorite to work with would have been glacier before she died.

STARFLIGHT

WEARS GLASSES!! had terrible eyesight growing up, the guardians managed to get some glasses for him from one of the other Talons. still wears tinted glasses after he was blinded, even though his eyes were inucleated, because the weight is comforting

also has black teardrop scales next to his eyes, which would have been silver if he'd hatched under three moons

autism incarnate

ends up teaching science classes at jma, with fatespeaker handling the library while he's teaching

SUNNY

i need her to have brown colorpointing and black freckles and stars on her wings you don't understand

dune put two and two together on thorn being so cagey about her boyfriend and quickly realized sunny is a hybrid. lied to the other guardians and said 'oh some sandwings just look like that. yeah see even blister has black markings. oh the tail? uhhh her egg was damaged or something idk'

sunny was really like a daughter to dune, not just because she's a sandwing but because she's thorn's kid

she has a LOT of hobbies, and wants to learn how to do everything! she's pretty good at drawing and cooking

aroace!! and probably some range of nonbinary as well

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 7

Marcille looks amazing in armor.

Of Laios's guesses over how Living Armor moves, I think the third one is closest to my guess. The actual truth was way outside anything I would have guessed. It's a colony of shellfish.

Note: When I say "Living Armor" going forward, I'm referring to the individual creatures that animate the armor rather than the armor itself.

After Laios removed the head, the body became blind. So the colony is doing more than just muscle contractions to make it move. They probably have some way of sending nerve signals to their connected neighbors so they can quickly coordinate themselves.

As seen in the end of the chapter, the Living Armor have eyes of their own. So they can see without the head, but the Living Armor in the head are probably specially tasked to get visual and auditory information.

So next question I'd have is whether the Living Armor in a suit act similar to the Thing where they're more like a confederacy willing to work together but would abandon each other if necessary. If the suit of armor were blown open in the chest area, would the Living Armor in the arms and legs try to separate from it and abandon the ones in the chest area, or would they stick together?

If Living Armor is akin to how the Thing works, then that would imply every Living Armor is equally capable at fulfilling whatever role it needs to perform and what it does is dependent entirely on where it is in the body.

That is a good submission hold by Laios.

I'm going to guess the exterior of the Living Armor is an actual suit of armor. The Living Armor occupies it and uses the inner walls as half of its shell and then it makes the other half itself.

I'm with Laios. This is an amazing discovery. He should publish a book about the monster discoveries he makes alongside Senshi's dungeon cookbook.

How many times has Marcille previously used her staff as a lasso on Laios?

Look at Laios wanting those Living Armor innards.

I like how Senshi is experimenting with how to cook Living Armor. It's a new edible monster for him so he's trying several ideas at once to find out what is a good method to cook them. And as a nice detail, the nutrition details are unknown because this isn't anything he's ever cooked before.

Do the Living Armors smell like iron because they inhabit iron armor or do they have a high iron content? Maybe their shells are made of iron to help blend themselves into the armor. How do they get any nourishment?

Not everything can be a hit. I'd be concerned about the Living Armor used for the feet.

Laios got his old sword from a normal suit of Living Armor. I guess those ones were using regular swords. The wing pattern of his new sword is part of the hilt itself. Maybe the Living Armor inside the hilt has something to do with the pattern?

Laios has been desperately trying to smuggle something from their monster hunting adventures with him since the beginning. He tried to pocket some man-eating plant seeds only for Marcille to add them to the dish Senshi was making. Then he tried to take some giant bat bones only for Marcille to make him throw them away. And he was quick to hide the Living Armor's eyes when Marcille offered to check it for curses.

Well he's finally got his monster souvenir. And it will be an amazing companion if he ever decides to present his findings on Living Armor.

back

[lefaystrent]

Friendly Neighborhood Criminals

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Patton/Dark Sides

Summary: Sweet, adorable, mild-tempered Patton who's just beginning to come out of his shell and learn that the world maybe does not in fact hate him for being born... has now been taken under the wings of some well-meaning criminals.

-------------------------------------------------------

Patton can't quite figure out how he ended up here.

Well, he knows he's in his apartment. He had saved up for months just to afford the deposit. And the landlord had been so sweet to take a chance on him with his credit, or lack thereof. Now he has a space of his own, a one bedroom with hardwood floors he can slip and slide on socked feet. He can go to the fridge when he wants and not be yelled at for eating the food or drinking the water.

And sometimes! Sometimes a black and white kitty cat roams the front steps. Patton's fairly certain it belongs to one of the neighbors, and she wears a collar. He's not supposed to pet cats because of his allergies, but he likes to let her rub her sides against his pants leg while he talks to her. It's nice because she doesn't tell him to shut up or tell him he's stupid or call him ungrateful.

This apartment is his new chance at life. A slice of freedom. And he's proud of it.

But then one night, three men break into his apartment. They probably think he isn't there because there is no vehicle parked in his one assigned spot. Owning a car seems light-years away in terms of money. It's not like he really needs one either! He has a bus pass and two legs to walk on!

Regardless, the three men break into his apartment, picking the locked front door, and they come in uninvited to see his apartment that he is very proud of.

His apartment that has no furniture.

"What the fuck?" Patton hears one of them say. As soon as he heard them picking the lock, he panicked and cowered behind the bedroom door. He huddles now on the other side, peeking out the crack and scared that closing it will make too much noise.

"Is this one empty?" another asks. They walk into the center of the small living area. It's an open space that melds into the kitchen, separated only by a short island counter.

"No, I've seen a guy coming in and out. Someone's been living here."

"Maybe they just moved out?"

"No, I just saw him earlier today. There haven't been any moving vans."

"Uh, bedroom then?"

"Oh God," Patton shudders in fright. He knows he's not supposed to think the worst in people, but these guys came in without permission with clearly bad intentions. What if they are looking for him? What if they want to hurt him? Or kidnap him? They had obviously been watching him for some time.

"Maybe. Let's check it out."

Terror slams into him. He throws himself away from the door and spins in the middle of the bedroom, searching for any place to hide. But there isn't one. There are no curtains, no bed to crawl under. There is a blanket on the floor with a pillow. He's been saving up for an air mattress as his next goal. He's been looking forward to sleeping on something somewhat soft.

The tiny closet has no room to hold him, and the window jams up nine times out of ten. They'll hear him if he attempts pushing the pane up and–

The door creaks as it sways open. Three men stare at a scattered-brain mess.

"Oh shit, he's here!"

"I thought you said he left!"

"I thought he did!"

Patton can't take it anymore. He throws up his hands and screams, "Please don't kill me! I can give you my wallet. There's not much in there, I'm sorry. Just please don't kill me!"

"Dude, is that where you sleep?" one of them gestures to the blanket pile on the floor.

Sniffling back tears, Patton responds, "Do you want my blankets? You can have them."

"Do you seriously live here, or are you squatting?" another says. He's wearing a hat. It's a very nice hat and Patton would tell him so if he wasn't about to pee his pants.

"I live here....it's my apartment."

"There's no shame if you're squatting. We won't tell anyone. Do what you gotta do."

A hysterical giggle tumbles out his lips. Patton shakes his head hard enough to give himself whiplash. "No, it's my place, I pay for it, I swear."

"You mean you live like this?" This one wears a dark hooded jacket, hood up.

"Y-yeah?" Patton stammers. He can't understand why they're so hung up on where he lives.

"This is..." the third one strokes his mustache, "Yeah, I can't even make fun of this. This is just sad."

"Do you have food in your fridge?" the hat guy demands. "Please tell me you at least have food in your fridge."

"Uh....uh... yes? Are you hungry?"

In answer, the hat guy strides with angry purpose into the kitchen. Patton can't see him from this angle anymore, but he hears the fridge open.

"There's literally only spaghetti in here!"

"It's...it's cheap to make." Patton doesn't know why he's explaining himself. Had he known that three men were going to break into his apartment, should he have prepared better meals for them?

"Can I have some?" the guy with the mustache asks, only to be cuffed by the hoodie guy.

"Dude, not the issue here."

"Why is there only pasta?!! Why don't you have any tables or TVs or a fucking bed?!!!"

The hat guy had gone past the boiling point. He hollers and slams cabinet doors like no tomorrow. Patton flinches and remembers too vividly of the atmosphere before the apartment. Before he was safe.

"I'm sorry," Patton defaults to how he's supposed to respond. He has been bad and he has to make amends. The tears overflow now and he can't get his shaking hands to wipe the wet streaks away. "I'm so sorry!"

"Oh shit, he's breaking. Virge, do something?"

"What the hell am I supposed to do?! I am not mentally equipped for this!"

"Janny!!"

The hat guy comes whirling back with all the fury of a storm. His shoulders heave. A gloved finger points straight at Patton.

"You!" he roars. Well, it's more like a hiss, but it sounds like a roar to Patton's sensitive ears.

"I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for! Obviously, society has let you down. This is unforgivable. Deplorable! You deserve better than this."

"I do?" Patton questions, glasses askew and eyes wide.

"Yes. Come boys, we're leaving."

"Wait, why? Where?" Virge exclaims, waving his hands back and forth at everything and nothing at all. "What are we doing? This isn't the plan."

"New plan! Operation Do-It-Ourselves commences now."

And that is how Patton finds himself standing outside his apartment the next morning watching the three theives from last night moving furniture into his apartment.

He doesn't question if the furniture is stolen. He doesn't ask why they're going through so much trouble. He doesn't ever call the police.

He watches them bicker as they wedge a sofa through the door. He mumbles an answer when they politely ask him which wall he wants it pushed against. He eats the breakfast sandwiches that they brought him, and he feels like he's having an out of body experience.

Janus, the hat guy, directs the other two with confident authority. Virgil, the hoodie-clad one, fills up the fridge with groceries. Remus, the man with the mustache, shoves a mattress into the bedroom.

"What's happening?" Patton mutters to himself later. He thinks he's being quiet enough, but Remus hears him and throws an arm over his shoulder.

"Janus has adopted you. This is how it starts. It's best to just go with it."

Sweet, adorable, mild-tempered Patton who's just beginning to come out of his shell and learn that the world maybe does not in fact hate him for being born... has now been taken under the wings of some well-meaning criminals.

[justbelievinginmagic]

ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 6: the hunter and the hunted.

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader, bang chan & fem!reader, jisung & fem!reader series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: the gardens hold the beauty of the labyrinth . . . as well as its horrors. creeping forward without jisung's companionship, you face the roars and growls ahead, alone. warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, bang chan is referred to as chris, mild violence, cruel punishment, injuries, blood, fear, fights, strong language, faerie lore!!, world building, hyunsung tension, let me know if there needs to be more tags! word count: 7.8k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

Roars echoed through the Labyrinth, shaking the greenery around her. Some rogue flowers curled into themselves, hiding away like sea creatures returning to their shells. Startled bird-like creatures croaked and crowed as they flew off with leathery-sounding wings. There was a rustling within the hedges like the leaves themselves were crawling away from the frightful sounds. Yet here she crept forward, holding her breath as she finally reached the entry-way, a grand hedge archway shadowing her as it opened into a courtyard.

This courtyard was different from the others. Instead of being encompassed by the hedges, the immediate space in front of her were evenly spaced porcelain columns holding up the large rotunda above them. It was only then she realized she was closer to the edge of the Gardens than she had thought – the false sunlight was still bright overhead, making sweat drip down her neck but, she could also see the rest of the Labyrinth in front of her, maze after maze crawling over large undulating hills. It looked like it was made for an ant, how far away and never-ending the maze felt from this perspective. Looming over it all was the Castle, ever present and ever far away. She swore she saw a light twinkle from the highest tower, like a winking eye. The Runner looked away and peered towards the cacophony filling the air.

There was a maze of columns now, scattered in no exact pattern she could distinguish, but providing cover as she crept forward. The floor was between cobblestone and dirt, uneven and changing in its consistency. Yes, this wasn’t the well-maintained Gardens of before – it felt like she was off the chosen path once more. Creeping forward, each pillar seemed to hide what was happening purposely, shifting to prevent her from moving forward fast enough– growls and roars only increasing but also screeches of giggles from squeaky-goblin voices. The same tones she had hear in her bedroom chanting and snickering from underneath her bed. That felt like ages ago…

In the shadow of one of the columns holding the grand rotunda up, she could see a man hung by his wrists, high above small furry goblin creatures wielding weaponry of all sorts. He was well-built, shirtless, his white linen shirt torn to shreds below him where it soaked in a puddle of his own purple blood and sweat. Injuries and bruises painted his skin like a mosaic of muddy emerald, inflamed vermillion, and bloody purple-violet. His head was thrown back in pain as he bellowed out an animalistic noise, too deep and monstrous to truly be human. It almost didn’t process that it was coming from his chest, yet she could see his human-pecs vibrate faintly with the sound. That was when Y/N noticed the ram-like horns curling out of his temple, framed by messy, sweat-plastered brown curls.

Yes, he was certainly not human. (But what here was?)

The fine muscles in his neck and shoulders strained and bulged as he swung by the iron chains looped around his hands. All his weight on just his wrists must’ve been torture. The fae-man took a deep breath, his stomach concaving and expanding, before he heaved himself upwards as he tried to adjust the weight on his wrists. He only had a moment to breath out a hiss before he slumped down, groaning from the pain of holding his weight. Shoulder bones popped and creaked inhumanely.

Even worse were the goblins surrounding him that took joy in his agony, giggling and cackling with sharpened fangs.  Each one held a different sort of weapon – a spear with a sharpened tip dripping in violet, a javelin with some sort of creature tied atop with millions of fangs and blood-stained claws at the ready, a flower-esque whip with red-thorns lining the long strip of vine, the list went on. One by one, the goblin creatures dressed in miniature knight-wear would approach with giggles and chatterings, egging one another on. They poked and prodded the man, who grunt and struggled.

A particular strong bite to his ribs by the javelined-creature made him roar out in pain. Inhuman noises broke free from his gnashing teeth, bearing chipped fangs at the guards who tormented him.

It wasn’t right.

The horned man was dripping in purple blood, the violaceous rivulets staining his bared skin. His eyes squeezed shut as he groaned out a growl. The clash of a whip went against his bared back, and Y/N flinched back at the sound.

She had to help; she just wasn’t sure how. Glancing about she tried to find something to defend herself with. The goblins were small but there were five of them and only one of her. Five armed, one unarmed.

“Take this,” she heard a voice squeak out as a spear prodded the fae man’s chest and he let out a wail, head thrown forward now. As if he could somehow protect his chest. Breathing heavily, he glared at the little creatures, struggling against his bonds once more as he twisted and swung in a slow circle. Eyes wild as he spun and spun. She thought for a moment, their eyes locked. But he soon was groaning out in agony.

The Runner glanced at the jewels on her waist. Would one of these be large enough to throw or cause damage? No, not truly. Perhaps—

She felt a nudge against her shoe. Holding in a yelp, a hand over her own mouth, she looked down to see… a rock. Nothing magical about it. Not a bauble of light, a bubble she had seen the King tempt her with time and time again. Just a sandy-looking rock, large enough to be a softball size. It nudged her again slowly and intentionally. It kept a snails’ pace but it nudged and nudged and nudged. Insistently. As if called to her. It took her a moment of awe before she heard another cry of anguish, and her eyes flashed back to look at the captured fae-man.

Her heart squeezed to see tears drip down his cheeks as his teeth gritted into a scowl. This wasn’t right; she had to try something. Squatting, she grabbed the rock that inched forward slower and slower, and brushed her thumb over the rough edges; it didn’t look magical, or living, but this place had made her question things before. The Runner glanced back up to see all five of the ‘knights’ count down, preparing to rush forward the weapons ready to strike the poor trapped fae. It was now or never!

It was then she aimed and threw the rock, aiming for one of their heads. With a clank, she hit her target. The rock bounced off of one of the guard’s helmets, swinging it around almost comically until it covered their eyes. With loud squeaking words in a language she couldn’t decipher, the creature spun about with their weapon tilted before it pierced through another guard’s chainmail. Shrieks of chaos, bickering and moans of pain came from their pile of fur and claws.

“You hit me!”

“No, you did!”

“I’m reporting this to our commander!”

“No, you won’t!”

They spoke over one another in a hurried mess.

Most goblins weren’t clever; they followed their instincts and forgot things. Like their prisoner and the rock that had hit their comrade in the first place. Off they marched, babbling over one another still, until the prisoner and the Runner were alone.

Y/N let out a breath.

That was surprisingly easy. What wasn’t easy was finding out how to get the injured man down now! Rushing forward, she heard a low growl shake the ground.

She slowed, hands rising as she took in his appearance. He was huffing and puffing, his ribs expanding and decompressing rapidly. He had finally stopped swaying in the wind, but it only seemed to trap him more. His body huffed and puffed, eyes wild as they eyed her and snarled.

He looked uncanny in this moment – less human than he had been a minute ago. His mouth too large for his face as he let out a menacing growl, rows of fangs as if he were a shark were visible as he glared at her. There were far too many sharpened fangs for her to feel comfortable and yet she still tried to soothe him.

Those goblin guards had been torturing him for fun.

She wouldn’t.

(She surely hoped that would mean he wouldn’t hurt her in return.)

He growled again and she paused – doubting herself for a moment. She met his eyes and saw how they were shaking. The irises were trembling, jumping from her form to the environment around them. Maybe he was just… scared, overwhelmed.

She offered a gentle smile, hands held up in defense.

“I won’t hurt you!” she called out softly. “I promise.”

Before she continued forwards carefully. He jolted backwards and growled. His movement made him spin from his wrists once more.

He was afraid – that was the only explanation. But she could feel his pain as he spun once, twice, three times. He squirmed and tried to readjust again only to swing wildly. His chest heaved and there was a whine of pain escaping his throat.

“Oh no,” the Runner rushed forward quick, hoping he’d be facing away and not startle too badly as her hands rose to stop him from spinning. Two small hands resting on his broad back with care, sliding to settle on his ribs to avoid any of his wounds. His body was cold as stone and sturdy as rock. She felt his muscles jump as she minded his injuries the best she could. He stopped swaying and she took in his restraints from up close for the first time. Far too many chains of iron curled around his form. There was a shackle around his neck, a chain looped around his lean waist, wrapped chains around each of his biceps and finally a myriad of overlapping chains around his wrists from which he hung from. She gently turned him around, trying to keep it slow and gentle.

She met his eyes, grey and stone-cold. They were piercingly heavy and she couldn’t help but stare. His face was all masculine angles, sharp jaw, rectangular face. His nose was broad and bore a large scar, like an animal scratch starting from his right cheekbone traveling across its bridge to the other cheekbone. His teeth were snarling at her, perpetually stuck in this growl. His bottom canines were sharpened and chipped in places as if he had used them to fight before. Her eyes flickered back to his eyes that seemed to speak for him now. It was commanding but not in a way that was magical – it was a brute strength, cold-stone glare.

“Down,” he finally spoke to her, more like growled out to her; his tone still edging towards animalistic still.

She nodded agreeing. “I’m trying.” She reassured, her hands leaving his form after a moment. “Trust me.”

“Before they get back,” he rumbled.

“I know. I’m trying to find how they strung you up,” she relayed as she followed the chains high above them. Like his own bonded wrists, the chains linked and overlaid one another in a patterned mess. They stretched up across the columns, criss-crossing like a spider’s web. She could even see some bird nests in between the chains, making their home there and weighing down sections. Her gaze went one way and then another. This way and that, that way and this. Twisting around columns, decorating it in intricate weave work. Until they came to the end. Which was thankfully not too far. The last end of the chair curled around a column like ivy before hitching over a hook in the rockwork.

Rushing over to the end of the lead, she quickly released it, unwinding it and letting go as it tugged ferociously. The man crashed to the ground with a heavy thud. He hissed out but remained still on the ground for a moment. Huffing and puffing.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she cried out, rushing over to him and falling to her knees beside the fae-man.

She watched, cautiously, as his body heaved and huffed. His muscles finally had a break, his joints cracking loudly as he shifted this way and that. He pressed his forehead to the ground beneath him, his horns digging into the soil. Skin to raw earth, he seemed to relax. His shuddering stopped as he took in deep slow breaths.

“Are—are you okay?” The Labyrinth-Runner queried. She didn’t touch his bare back nor move from her spot beside him.

He breathed in before nodding.

“Yes,” he replied, sounding different. More whole now. His voice was no longer a rumbling growl but instead it was shifting into something far softer. He cleared it gently.

“Thank you for helping me.”

Rising up onto his knees, his hair fell over his forehead in mussy natural curls with leaves and twigs from the ground tangled in his locks and dirt clinging to his forehead, but what caught her off guard was his eyes. They were no longer stone-cold but instead a gentle grey. Sparkling and gentle as he took her in. He leaned back onto his legs, matching her kneeling position as he blinked owlishly at her.

“I’m… I’m Chris,” his voice was careful, soft. Tinged with an accent Y/N couldn’t place but felt far different from the others’ she had met so far. But what had shocked her so far was his sincerity.

Despite everything - the mussed curls plastered to his sweatied forehead, the overwhelming chains wrapping around his form, the claw marks, goblin bites, and cuts oozing violet-purple blood across his torso, the layered scars up and down his arms and shoulders, the prominent slice across the bridge of his broad nose, the dirt across his brow – his grey eyes felt soft and real. Honest. His lips twitched into a careful smile, far from the uncanny rows of fangs she had sworn she saw while he was trapped.

She would take this in stride she thought. Not everything is as it seems but… if she was honest, he seemed to be different from what meets the eye.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chris,” she greeted, a hand slowly going to pick the leaves and sticks from his chocolate hair carefully. He flinched away at her movements at first, his overcast eyes dilating before focusing back in on her like a big cat as he froze and allowed her to pick a pine needle from his hair carefully.

“I’m Y/N.”

He repeated the name with a softness. “I’ve never heard of a Y/N in the Labyrinth before.” Chris murmured.

“Is there only one person for each name here?” she queried as she continued her picking and fluffing of his curly hair. He blushed an otherworldly purple, the color high on his cheekbones.

“Names are special here. No one is ever named the same,” he informed her.

If he had been even more honest, he’d mention that names held power. (There was a reason Jisung never gave her his, nor did Hyunjin. Learning names from other sources gave them less power than someone giving it to them but it was still power. Naming a fae was entering a pact with them.)

She hummed in acknowledgement before taking the final loose leaf from his hair with a satisfied smile.

“I’m trying to beat the Labyrinth,” she told him, hands going to her knees. “I’m trying to get home. Do you know the way to the Castle?”

There’s a glance towards to the looming image of Hyunjin’s castle – it somehow was able to look so close yet so far away in one blink, as if it were an optical illusion. Chris pressed his lips together and swallowed, looking away from the centerpiece of the maze.

Despite his strength, in that moment, he looked small. Hand going to scratch at a wound on his arm as he shook his head softly. Eyes downcast, almost child-like. Frightened, she realized.

Maybe it was due to the King’s cruel guards, or maybe the King had declared this sort of punishment.

It made her blood boil – the King was frightening. A tyrant king. She had yet to meet one person with a positive view of him. It was guards long forgotten at posts deep in uncared for mazes, remains of Runners scattered in the Labyrinth like forgotten toys, trolls left to rot in oubliettes, power-lusting goblin guards torturing a man. All away from the castle and yet shadowed in Hyunjin’s power.

She glared up at the Castle she was trying to get to. What would become of her if she fails? If this is how he keeps his Labyrinth’s order? She knew he wanted her to be his – but if this was his Kingdom, was she to become nothing but another ghost in the many twisted paths of his Labyrinth?

“Okay,” she buzzed. Too much energy in the word to sound calm. But she didn’t push him, not when he winced after grazing over a wound too closely. Her gaze settled back on Chris, taking in the way the iron chains wrapped around his body. They cut into his skin harshly, his wrists dripping with deep-violet blood, and even his biceps had rivulets of blood running down his arms with every movement. That had to hurt.

“Let’s try to get these off, okay?” she changed the subject, hands moving from her lap to brush tenderly over a chained bicep before fingering the ones around his wrists. The chains were heavy and criss-crossing like snakes around his wrists. She couldn’t see where one chain started and ended.

Chris couldn’t help but let the awe in his eyes gleam as she touched his shackles with ease. (Iron is cursed to fae – remember this. Iron-metal burns with a thousand suns to weak faeries; why do you think the human realm is made up of it?) Chris had grown used to the ache and sizzle where the metal laid but every push and pull made his eyes water in agony. But she touched them easily.

“It’ll hurt.” Chris rumbled - eyes wide as he pulled back from her grasp. His hands going towards his chest protectively.

“But, doesn’t it hurt now?” Y/N asked, eying the cuts carefully.

Chris visibly gulped as he tried to shrug.

“It’ll be over in a second,” she promised. “We’ll tug them over your hands and figure out what to do next.”

The horned man shook his head, eyes wide like a pup’s. “No, no way; it’ll hurt!” he pleaded.

“Trust me?” she asked. “Like before? I helped you then and I want to help you now.”

He swallowed. “I do trust you. . .”

“Good, here let me see,” she soothed as she took his hands once more in hers.

The chains wrapped over and over around his wrists, weaving in and out. They were made slippery with his magenta-hued blood. It took time and each time she unwound it further, each time she found a new give in the chain, she’d apologize quietly. The push and pull of metal had to hurt against his irritated skin.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts; it’ll be better once its off,” she apologized once more as she tugged and tore at the shackles from his wrists. He whimpered, the sounds escaping from his clenched fanged mouth.

As they continued to unravel, the iron digging into his skin became more and more rusted and sharpened. There were odd-crystal structures of rust piercing into his skin, like thorns, and it made her only gasp in horror as she continued to pull at the irons.

“Oh, my God,” she murmured softly as she saw how torn up his wrists were. It only made her want them off quicker. He sniveled, eyes shutting tightly. She quickly continued onwards, flinching as these crystallizations scratched her own hands up. But they were almost unraveled, more and more bare skin visible. Puffy and inflamed, deep-violet and navy spiderweb bruises bloomed where the chains had rested.

“I’ve got it I promise.” she quickly slipped the cuffs away.

His violet and her ruby blood mixed together on their skin as she dropped the cuffs to the ground.

“There,” she smiled proudly before looking over his hands. “Oh Chris, are you alright?”

Only, he was staring down at her own hands, covered in red and purple.

“I’m okay.” his voice was strained. “You’re bleeding, Y/N.”

His nostrils were flared. His chest rose and fell harshly as he smelt the blood billow into the air.

Her hands stung but she simply shook her them as if its rid them of the pain. Chris’ large hands went to grasp hers, his touch harsh at first as if he wasn’t used to his own strength. Her furrowed brow, soft gasp, and clenched teeth were cues enough and he held them gentler, tenderly. His eyes were sad, almost like a kicked puppy dog.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m okay,” she reassured. “Just some cuts and scrapes.”

His fingers brushed over some of her wounds with the carefulness of a parent, not wanting to cause her any more pain. She squeezed a finger gently, trying to let him know it was fine.

“Let’s get these off too,” she nodded to his arms. They looked easier to wiggle off, less wrapped and more like a singular chain that dug into his skin. With some effort and Chris flexing and twisting his arm, they too fell away to the cobblestone floor.

His biceps were ringed in irritated-inflamed violet while remnants of magic-infused blood, sparkling and shimmering like amethysts in the Gardens’ light, dripped down his tanned skin.

“Do you want us to try to remove the neck and waist chains?” she queried, wiping her hands on her pants (luckily, they were dark and wouldn’t show the blood that now painted her fingers a pinky-purple color.) Each brush of fabric made her flinch.

Chris looked down at his bound waist, long chains of iron wrapping around him and draping to the floor, tumbling around his legs.

“No, let me try; I can move my arms,” he tested the strength of the chain, gripping it by his sides. Gritting his teeth, he held the shackle’s chain in his hand and pulled. Pulled, pulled, pulled until the link shattered. The shackles fell from his waist like it was a paper chain.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the display of strength.

“Wow.” She murmured. “You’re really strong.”

Chris smiled, his eyes squinting into half-moons as his cheeks flushed.

“You're strong too," he complimented, because in his eyes, she was.

"I was a Hunter before this,” he admitted to her.

“What happened to get you caught up in this?” her chin nodded to the shattered remains of the chains and his shredded shirt on the ground beside them.

He frowned. “I failed a mission set by the King,” he replied. “He cursed me to a hundred years of imprisonment.”

“That’s horrible,” she replied. “What was the mission? Nothing is worth a hundred years of imprisonment if it was just a task he gave you.”

“I was sent off to destroy a beast – a monster in the desert sea, but when I found it—him—I realized it was just living peacefully,” he commented. “He hadn’t caused any destruction or deaths. So, I spared him.”

Her brows crinkled. “So, the King punished you for mercy?” she queried.

Her blood boiled. Hyunjin was becoming more and more unsavory to her. How dare he! How dare he punish someone for mercy!

“He wasn’t himself after—I thought maybe a courtier had planned it, made the plot to blame the destruction onto someone else – he didn’t believe me.” He murmured, fingers brushing over his no-longer aching wrists. “The Prince had tried to help me.” Chris admitted after a moment, head tilting in acknowledgement. 

Prince… King… wait. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“How long have you been captured, Chris?” she asked.

“I can’t remember—maybe a few years.” He admitted. “Minutes can feel like days.”

She feared it had been much longer if there was a Prince when Chris was put into chains and now there were none. Unless Hyunjin had a son running around in the looming Castle but there were never any tales of that in her storybooks.

“I’m sorry that you’ve been stuck for so long – especially with those goblins looking over you,” she nodded in the direction the ‘guards’ had scurried off to. Her eyes flashed over his bared skin, the cuts and bites and bruises looking gnarly on him.

“I’ll heal,” he promised, smiling at her kindly. “The pain will leave soon; thanks to you.”

She smiled gently. At least she helped him in her quest. He seemed kind. There was a warmth to him and bigness that felt like he was sturdy and true in himself. Confident but quietly so. Comforting like the way mountains were comforting in their ever-presence.

“I need to keep going now,” she admitted. “I need to make it to the Castle – will you be alright?”

His grey eyes widened, soft pouty lips pursing into a frown.

“Without me?” he murmured. “Can’t I go with you?”

It didn’t feel like a ploy. It felt like he was genuinely sad you were parting.

“I mean, we will be going against the King,” she told him. “I don’t want you to get into any more trouble, Chris.”

He shook his head firmly. His lips now falling into a disapproving line rather than a pout.

“Nah, nah, nah,” he said. “I can help you – like you helped me.”

Her own eyes were soft and gentle as she looked at the hulking man before her and yet his words were gentle and kind.

“Are you sure?” she clarified.

“I can’t let you leave without me,” he insisted. “We—I’m here for you now.”

It was insistent and genuine. Not insistent and obsessive. It felt like for once… she had someone truly on her side. Not won over by prettied jewelry or by loneliness in the middle of a maze with only their lover. But for her and her actions.

Her smile made her cheeks ache with how large it was.

“Okay. We’re friends now,” she told him sincerely.

“Friends,” Chris beamed back as he took her hand in his giant one.

His hand encompassed hers easily, but he held it with care of a gentleman.

“So where to?” he asked.

The path onwards felt counterintuitive. They were led away from the Castle, their backs to it as they settled on the now-dirt path. Light from the rotunda above them still glared down but now felt more like a sunset’s rays rather than a noontime sun. Perhaps it was due to them being so close to the edge of the false sky-light.

They had walked only for a short time before Chris queried.

“Why do you want to get to the Castle?”

“I’m a Runner,” she said. “I’m in the middle of a deal with the King.”

He shivered faintly from the corner of her eye. “I’m surprised he took upon a Runner.”

Her brows crinkled. “Why?”

“His Champion-Queen fled to the human-realm a few years ago.” He hummed. “He hasn’t been the same since.”

“That’s interesting,” she mumbled, glancing around and winding around a column.

There was now just a large bank to her right and the Gardens and their large columns to her left. The gorge was dark. Misty and shadowed as the light of the garden’s rotunda failed to reach it. There were no fantastical floating lamps and no fire pits in this part of the Labyrinth. Just darkness. Trees seem to sprout into existences as they continued onwards, large piney trees that crept higher and higher, growing denser and denser. This shadowy darkness spilled over onto the path like an oil slick leak.

“Can you tell me more about the royals?” she asked after a moment.

Chris offered a bashful look. “I don’t know them that well,” he admitted scratching his neck. “I grew up in the Shadow of the Castle; I know the Royals by face not name; I doubt anyone really does. There’s the Goblin King, the Heir Prince, the Queen-Consort. We all know of the Champion-Queen but I’ve never seen her.” He shrugged a bit.

“I don’t know what else to say – they are the rulers of the Underground? The Prince loves celebrations; the King loved the Labyrinth once.” He tried to find anything else to say but it seemed to be difficult. Was it the topic or was it something more?

“Tell me about you then,” she conceded, hoping maybe she’d grasp some more information about this world.

Her eyes stayed locked on their surroundings, watching as the dark shadow-like trees of the forest beside them shifted and bent in the wind.

“I was the King’s Hunter – my father was their Hunter before me. My brood will be their Hunter after me,” he said easily, shrugging. “I’m tasked with maintaining the peace in the Kingdom when it comes to unrulier creatures.”

She nodded slowly. So, there was supposedly order here and Chris was once their enforcer, which felt like he was higher than the guards that were poking and prodding him.

“What will you do now?” she asked.

He nudged her playfully with his shoulder, having to dip to nudge her with his muscular shoulder. It made her smile.

“I’m with you now!” he chimed. “You got me, Runner, in your graces. I’ll travel with you and make sure you are safe like you have for me.”

(Blood for blood. Life for life. He was here until his debt was paid.)

“But… after I leave. . . “, she wondered. “What then?”

Chris pursed his lips, looking off into the distance. There were faint hazy orange-light over the horizon – from what she could only assume was the entrance of the Labyrinth, the way she came. It looked so far away now. She couldn’t help but feel optimistic that they were making progress even as they approached where she came while following this path.

“I could go back –”

There was a scuffle in the brush. Chris’ hand reached out to grasp her shoulder. She wished he had a weapon but his bared teeth reminded her that he always had a weapon with him.

“Y/N,” he began before there was a hissing sound and flash of color in the dim light.

He shifted her to the side, pressing her behind him as his large arm blocked an attack. There was a loud thud as the creature was tossed aside. It thudded to the ground, a pile of red. Another flash of light was to its right.

It didn’t look humanistic. The way it shivered and shuddered with technicolor light, too bright and too flashy to really grasp onto its features. It was more of a shifting, shimmering light leak.

Chris grunted as he stood fully in front of her as a screech escaped the creature on the ground. In a blink, all she could see was red dripping down the creature- with its long talons and dripping crimson rivulets down his forehead. Large antlers pierced through its skull and his eyes gleamed a burning red.

Meanwhile, the entity of light danced this way and that, around the crimson creature, around Chris, and around her. Like it was dancing in a waltz amongst a battle. Chris hissed.

She shifted this way and that as she batted off the tendril of light and color. It didn’t harm her, didn’t even touch her, but it was almost observing her as she backed into the hedges of the Gardens. It hovered beside her and she tried to maintain a distance while keeping her eyes on the fight.

A low growl rumbled from Chris and the creature shifted low on the ground. Her back pressed against the leaves of the Gardens, ivy scratching at her ears and neck as Chris’ posture shifted.

(Faeries all had glamour. Some wielded it; some didn’t. Some wielded it quite well.)

Chris seemed to have great control over his glamour as the same uncanny features appeared. Larger mouth, his form felt larger even if was the same height as before and there was a fearful aura around him as he dug a hand into the ground.

The crimson creature jumped and jittered about, long limbs cracking inhumanly as it crept forwards. Its gaze was locked on Chris before they rose to linger on her. There was a deep chuckle, humming through the threads of existence.

Chris rumbled again, a warning hiss. There was a jolt and movements too fast for her human eyes to follow. In a blink of an eye, the creature was gone from her vision. Chris turned and swiped towards her; the crimson creature far too close to her now. The entity of dancing-lights seemed to swerve in front of her, an inhuman type noise pushing out of its existence. She stumbled back as the two grappled one another. Antlers against horns, their feet slid in the dirt and mulch of the path. She shrieked as her feet fell deep into loosen soil by the bank and she yelped, trying to escape the cave-in of their path along the gorge. Nails dug into the remaining solid rock, her head only above their path now.

“Chris!”

Chris’ muscles strained, wounds dripping purple, before he grabbed both creatures and tossing them aside like they were nothing but a leaf.  He turned to find her amongst the concaving dirt.

Mud and mulch kicked up into the air and a blur of color rushed towards her. Chris quickly leapt into action, pushing the creature away as the Runner was shoved to the side, out of breath. There was only a moment of calm before she was slipping off the path. The bank crumbling from her weight and becoming nothing but mulch and loose dirt beneath her shoes. She scrambled, trying to grasp onto something as the crimson creature roared from overhead. The entity of dancing technicolor light swirled and whirled as it danced in and out of existence until it was gone.

“Chris!” she screeched out. “Han!” the name left her throat in fear. “Help – please! Jisung!”

A barking noise, like a creature whining and running off, pierced the air before there was a huffing puffing Chris in her vision.

“Y/N, I’m here!” he cried out, reaching a hand out.

There was no time for relief as her shoes sunk into the dirt and she slid further down the gorge. Hands scrambling against tree roots and dead brush as she tried to climb towards her friend. But the dirt was too loose, too damp. She kept sliding down and falling. The wind was knocked out of her as a log buried in the dirt nudged her stomach painfully. It dislodged her from her clawing, making her tumble onto her back.

“Chris!” she screeched out as she fell, her feet gripping nothing as she slid fully now.

She tried to grasp onto something, a root, the dirt, but everything was so fast and the fall was so steep she was soon tumbling down faster and faster until she was far below the Gardens in the darkness of a forest.

-

“She’s so dumb – I can’t believe she’d- just,”

Jisung was wandering around the last of the Gardens’ hedges – huffing and puffing about the Runner and her stupidity. His clothes were clearly ruffled from maybe, possibly, probably forcibly-pushing his way through the hedges to get back onto the main path. His curls were messed with twigs and flower petals. He stomped a bit as he passed into a new part of the Labyrinth.

The cobblestone had faded back into a dirt path. There were destroyed arches of stone, large sculptures that were tumbled over, and cobwebs casting a haze of fuzz across near everything. Old trees and barren hedges of rot framed this place. A dried fountain ached for water in the nearby courtyard of an abandoned castle. The Old Castle. This was a place for ghosts and dust. Dust sprites huddled together by a barely lit fire. In the corners, abandoned shadows clung to concrete columns and broken hunks of fire-eaten wood.

There was a large sculpture of a familiar face – strong jawbone, pout familiar, and a glowering brow – half destroyed as if by a blast of magic. Jisung passed by it without a second glance.

“Running towards roars – she isn’t going to last long; why would she do that?” he grumbled and muttered, fussing with the bracelet on his wrist. “Why would she do that?”

He didn’t understand it; he didnt understand her. But he wanted to, itched to. He couldn't help but feel so so...

“Han!” he heard her cry in the distance and he froze, jeweled eyes widening. “Help, please!”

It felt like liquid ice was injected in his veins. She needed him. She was hurt or in pain or about to be in pain and he left her. Left her. He left her alone in a place that was just built to prey upon her. His only friend. . . 

“I’m coming, Y/N!” he breathed, turning to race back to the Runner only to run into a sturdy chest. The smell of fire-smoke and honeyed-mead flooded his nose. 

“Where are you off to, Jisung?” the King hissed.

“Hyunjin,” the goblin-fae breathed out, startled by his appearance.

Dressed in a white silken shirt that was lazily open to reveal his chest, leathered pants, and a dragon-scaled purple cloak. He wore a fine halo-like crown of kingly-gold, intricate and delicately embellished with rubies. His face was one of annoyance, his lips drawn into a line and his brows furrowed.

It was a surprise to see the King in a place like this. Even the solidarity shadows hid away from their corners and pillars of stone, far away from the King of the Underground. Hyunjin glanced aside, looking over the ruins with a curled lip.

“Jisung, what did we agree upon last time we spoke privately?” he queried, remaining ever close to Jisung even as the goblin-fae continued to back away until his back hit the statue’s remaining face.

Hyunjin’s gaze flickered over the half-desecrated face of the King of old, his eyes squinting in disdain before settling back onto Han’s pout.

“Lead the Labyrinth Runner away to the beginning – which-which I was going to go do, like you told me to. She simply, uh, escaped me. Got too eager.” Jisung replied. “I’ll go lead her back right now!” He wiggled against the press of the King’s body. Hyunjin held Jisung’s shoulder down harshly, digging him into the sharp cheekbone of the Old King’s statue.

“I see; I thought you were running off to help her,” he mocked.

Jisung snorted out, the sound forced as he let out a strained smile. His shoulder-blade ached with the way Hyunjin pinned him to the stone. 

“No, no,” he smiled, pleadingly. “Not me, Hyune.”

There was almost a look of fondness in Hyunjin’s eyes at the nickname. His hand rose from the other’s shoulder to squeeze Han’s cheeks. The metal claws that Hyunjin wore pricked his skin and Han grimaced. There was a beat before Hyunjin pulled away, a glaring smile on his lips.

“Of course,” Hyunjin hummed before letting go of the goblin-fae with a rough hand. “Not after my warnings, no.”

Jisung stumbled away as he rubbed at his cheeks. His gaze flickered upwards, looking at the other through his messed curls.

“Poor, poor Jisungie,” the King condescended, sighing out. “I noticed your jewels are missing,” Hyunjin noted.

Jisung’s hand instinctively went to wear they usually weighed on his waist. They were absent; his bracelet thudding against his belt with a plastic scrape.

“Oh, oh.” He stuttered.

“Jisung!” there was a distant cry from the Runner, so far off in the distance it was barely audible. She needed him. Hyunjin was quick to speak over her and her following yells.

“How’d that happen? After all you went through to obtain them, you’d think you’d be more… careful with your treasures,” Hyunjin commented.

The goblin-fae’s hand rose to itch at the back of his neck, fiddling over the raised scales that resided there. “I—You’re right—something must’ve—I’ll have to look for them,” Jisung stumbled over his words.  “But, first, I’ll go and whisk the Runner back to the beginning!”

Jisung bowed slightly as he began to back away, step after step, heading towards Y/N. Y/N needed him. He had to find her. His fingers fiddled with the charms of his bracelet, rubbing one charm back and forth as he tried to sneak away only to feel the world stop. Birds shushed; the brush ceased to shift in the air; sounds and squeaks of the world tumbling along quieted. The air chilled to a freezing temperature and he froze.

“Wait, Jisung.”

It was an odd thing – a power only the High Fae had with their pure-connection to magic, blessed by the Underground to be able to control time and reality at whim. Hyunjin didn’t do so often, and only when it benefitted him.

It had been a while since Jisung had felt the effects of his power. Time stopping was useful when you wanted to avoid something or prolong another thing. He has memories of forever parties where time refused to tick forward, air frozen cold from magic being warmed by his body pressed to Hyunjin’s and other courtiers, and paused moments around the Castle, just him and Hyunjin, locked in embraces and pleasantries beyond Time’s eye.

Jisung’s eyes shut before he turned and falsified a smile to his King.

“I have a better plan.” The King mused. “Give her this.”

Hyunjin commanded with a flare of his fingers. Suddenly, a fruit was daintily perched in between his clawed fingers before he tossed it to Jisung quickly. The goblin-fae reacted and caught it easily.

“What is it?” He hummed, holding the thing carefully.

“It’s a present,” Hyunjin’s voice was sharp as he paced a few steps forward.

He didn’t like that he had to stoop to such levels, but she was progressing far too quickly. He couldn’t help the rise of defensiveness. He had expected her to be cowering in his shadow by now – he had expected her to be at his knees, sweet and pliant. 

“It won’t harm her… will it?” Jisung queried, quietly.

The peach was abnormally heavy for such a small thing. It reeked of magic like honey-suckle with a sour-undertone, like something was fermenting within it.

“Now, why would you care?” Hyunjin paused, glancing over his shoulder at the goblin-man.

Jisung’s lips pressed into a fine line. Silence struck him. He was truly a coward after all that has happened. He couldn’t say what he truly thought even now. If he did, what if it hurt him – what if it hurt Y/N, too? It was odd feeling care for someone else after all these years. It made him swallow roughly.

Hyunjin’s smile was sharpened fangs and rolled eyes.

“Don’t tell me – you like the girl?” the King mocked.

It was foolish but expected of Jisung. He always wanted what wasn’t his. And the Labyrinth-Runner was his. Not Jisung’s. His.

Jisung’s voice was a stutter as he glanced towards a nearby shimmering tree and avoiding the King’s gaze. His throat felt dry as he swallowed. His hands fiddled with the bracelet – her bracelet he was reminded cruelly by a voice in his head. Her bracelet she gave him after he promised to help her. But here he was… discussing her with the King. Betrayer, betrayer, betrayer. Coward, coward, coward. His thumb brushed over the charm he favored the most – the smoothness easing his rising anxiety as he felt a roil of bile climb in his throat. He felt like he was back to the dunes outside the Labyrinth, banished and alone, with only the sands of time as his company and the taste of dust on his lips. He licked his lips – it didn’t taste of grit or death. He wasn’t there.

The King made him anxious and ever-cowardly. A long while ago, he was believed to be the King’s favorite – but it is true that Hyunjin’s blood was cruel, and no one knew that more than Jisung.

“Do you love her?” Hyunjin pressed on, turning fully to look at Jisung.

Head tilting like a predator sizing up his prey, he took slow steps with his long legs. His deep purple coat didn’t dare touch the dusty ground – it was as if small dust sprites lifted it just enough so it wouldn’t tarnish the fabric. It made him look more unearthly, more slowly unhinging at the thought that Jisung wanted her. His Runner.

“Do you think she loves you?” he commented, voice deep and low like a tiger’s growl.

It held an air of warning but also ridicule. As if the idea was fictious – unbelievable. Hyunjin’s eyes stormed as Jisung’s gaze rose at the other’s words. At the sight of the hurricane building, Jisung glanced aside once more as he found his voice.

“She’s my friend,” Jisung finally murmured, glancing down at his feet. “I don’t want to harm her.”

His eyes focused in on the bracelet that jingled lightly. The metal didn’t burn him – despite its iron and silver appearance. He liked that. It made him feel powerful. His other hand’s thumb brushed over a different charm.

“Oh Jisung,” his true name was like a dog’s lead around his throat. His head snapped up to meet the King’s gaze. He was oh so very close now; his smell of fire-smoke and honeyed rosemary burning Jisung’s nose.

“We were friends once, too,” Hyunjin reminded the shorter man.

And he had hurt the King was unspoken but loud and clear. Betrayal bit at the lesser-goblin’s spine. There was a hum in the King’s throat, a soft tut before, with the polished specter, he tilted Jisung’s chin up.

“Jisungie, if she ever kisses you,” Hyunjin was close, the king invading the space of his once-Gentleman-In-Waiting, his estranged best friend, “I’ll make you a Prince.”

Jisung couldn’t help the glow of wonder from sparkling in his eyes. Confusion and awe. He was a greedy soul through and through. Perhaps his blood was of dragon-fae long passed considering how he exceled in green envy and the need for a hoard of pretty things.

If he was a Prince of the Underground, he’d have all the jewels and finery and wondrousness that a fae like himself deserved. Even more than when he was a Gentleman-In-Waiting. All because of a human kiss? No, no, not just a human’s kiss – it was Y/N. Brave, stupid, charming Y/N. She’d probably like him more and--

“The Prince of the Land of Eternal Stench,” Hyunjin finished with a cruel smirk. He loved to watch the awe fade from his subject’s eyes – how Jisung’s Adam’s apple stuttered with a swallow. Hyunjin’s fingers rose to pinch the fair goblin’s chin. “Don’t make me do such a thing, my pet.”

Jisung trembled as he nodded. “Yes--yes, your Majesty.”

“Good boy,” the Goblin King hummed before letting go of Jisung’s chin and stepping away with a scowl.

“Give my gift to the Runner; she’s making too much progress.”