#there's a chance she might have been black or at least darker skinned
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feral-renaissance-cat · 2 years ago
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Speaking both as someone who is Armenian (i.e. Caucasian but with enough “non-white” features that people try to guess my ethnicity and are often wrong) and an Egyptologist...Cleo WASN’T black. She was mixed at best, but her family was part of Lexie the Greatly Exaggerated’s conquering forces, so she was Greek/Macedonian. Even coins minted at the time show her with Greek-styled hair and features. Having someone like Anya Taylor-Joy depict her would also be inaccurate because, even if her origins are European, she would have had dark (but not black) skin, a large nose, and since the “sexy seductress” thing was largely Roman propaganda, it’s entirely possible she wasn’t even conventionally attractive.
In terms of “Egypt is on the African continent therefore it’s an African country and therefore its people were black”...also no. Egyptian art makes a distinction between Egyptians and people from further south in Nubia, Kush, and Punt. The Egyptians’ ancestors were more likely similar to the Bedouin, as in desert nomads who were brown but not black. The earliest confirmed permanent settlements in Egypt and the artifacts found there show similarities to artifacts from the Levant, to the northeast, but dated later than the Levant’s which means the earliest Egyptians (or at least the people who traded with them) were from the Arabian Peninsula. (Source: A History of Ancient Egypt: From the First Farmers to the Great Pyramid by John Romer) Depicting Cleopatra as very dark-skinned IS blackwashing, and I can understand the Egyptian government balking at diasporic African Americans trying to lay claim to a culture that isn’t theirs simply because it’s on the same continent as their ancestors. (That being said, I have never set foot in Armenia, don’t speak any Armenian, and I’m not even Christian, but I still have strong feelings about which country should have claim to Mount Ararat, so I get that too.)
Do I think it’s funny that Netflix is getting sued over something like this? Yes. Do I want the Egyptian government to win? Sort of, in that it would set a precedent for others who might want to shut down production of a program that is offensive to their culture. The issue is the line between “This is actually offensive and harmful to this ethnic group” and “This isn’t how I imagine these fictional/historical figures to look and I’m upset I wasn’t consulted” and how bad people are at knowing which side of that line they’re on. I’ll be interested to see how this turns out.
An Egyptian lawyer has filed a case with the Public Prosecutor to close the Netflix platform after the trailer of “Queen Cleopatra" was released, which depicts the Greek historical figure as a black-skinned woman.
According to Egypt Independent, Mahmoud al-Semary demanded that all legal measures be taken against those responsible for the documentary and the management of the streaming platform for its participation in “this crime.” He also called for an investigation and for Netflix to be blocked in Egypt.
The case said that the documentary promotes Afrocentrism that is widely spread on social media, which have slogans and writings aimed at distorting and obliterating the Egyptian identity.
The complaint continued addressing Public Prosecution: "In order to preserve the Egyptian national and cultural identity among Egyptians all over the world and take pride in it, and to consolidate the spirit of belonging to the homeland, and accordingly we ask and seek you to take the necessary legal measures against this platform."
It demanded stopping broadcasts showing all works aimed at obliterating and distorting the Egyptian identity, through films aimed at falsifying and distorting history in Egypt.
The complaint accused makers of the documentary and platform management of forgery.
A Netflix docudrama series that depicts Queen Cleopatra VII as a black African has sparked controversy in Egypt. A lawyer has filed a complaint that accuses African Queens: Queen Cleopatra of violating media laws and aiming to "erase the Egyptian identity". A top archaeologist insisted Cleopatra was "light-skinned, not black". But the producer said "her heritage is highly debated" and the actress playing her told critics: "If you don't like the casting, don't watch the show." Jada Pinkett Smith, the American actress who was executive producer and narrator, was meanwhile quoted as saying: "We don't often get to see or hear stories about black queens, and that was really important for me, as well as for my daughter, and just for my community to be able to know those stories because there are tons of them!" But when the trailer was released last week many Egyptians condemned the depiction of Cleopatra. (x)
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astarion-approves · 1 year ago
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Astarion x Reader
Some fluff, very slight angst, and an adorable kitten.
----
The sun is shining brightly, leaving a warm embrace of its touch upon your skin. You take a moment to stand in the light and enjoy it. After all, it’s not every day Astarion asks you to join him in a private walk.
At least not during the day, that is.
“I do cherish these moments, you know.”
Astarion joins your side, the vampire you’ve come to love pausing to lift his head and in the direction of the sun. You feel your heart beat faster as you gaze at this mysterious vampire.
A man enjoying his freedom, grateful of feeling the sun again.
“It’s not very often that we find ourselves alone… and with this much clothing on-“
Astarion chuckles, his laughter bringing that lovely feeling in your chest, a feeling that you’ve been eager to share. But then his smile falters, and you watch as he worries at his bottom lip. His fangs catching at the edge, the sharpness reminding you of everything he’s capable of.
“Look, there’s… something we need to talk about.”
Astarion tilts his head, motioning you to follow him. It’s unlike the vampire to move so slowly, his feet dragging in front of you as he leads you to a large rock to sit together.
He stares straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with you. You notice how his hands hang in front of him, his thumbs twiliting around themselves.
Very unusual.
Is Astarion going to leave the camp and never return now that he has his freedom?
…Has he decided to move on from you?
Astarion notices your uncertainty, his composure breaking for just a moment. The look in his eyes… was fear.
“It’s about us. The party, our group.”
You rip your gaze from his, forcing yourself to look out and into the area around you. Focusing on the birds as they sing their love stories, the waterfall near by as it crashes into the water below, a fat little bumble bee as it buzzes by—
And then a single soft meow.
Your head snaps back to where Astarion sits, the vampire stares back at you, his smile wide and eyes glimmering with joy.
In his hands he holds a kitten, its fur a black darker than the night sky, and bright red eyes that glare like daggers into your heart. Two large fangs poke out from under it’s upper lip, teeth that remind you of… Astarion.
And now that you thought about it. Your first meeting with Astarion was in a nearly identical fashion. Only that his dagger was a sharp blade ready to slice across your throat.
“I’ve named her Tiger, isn’t that just adorable?”
‘Tigers are orange.’
Astarion clicks his tongue at you and instead brings his focus to the kitten, who looks up to the vampire with a loving gaze; nothing like the evil glare you received.
“Of course, I know that! She’s still cute nevertheless.”
Tiger purrs as Astarion slides his hand down her back. All the while the cat is still glaring in your direction.
The level of confidence the creature holds only makes your heart melt. You slowly raise your hand towards the animal, watching her for any signs of a battle about to begin.
Although your chances were low, you managed to successfully pet the top of Tiger’s head.
It was love at first pet.
“I assume by that charming little smile of yours that her joining the group won’t be a problem then?”
Your hand halts, Tiger huffing when you stopped petting the top of her head.
‘Wait. Was this what you wanted to talk about?’
Astarion snorts.
“Of course, darling. I mean, whatever else would we have to discuss?”
‘I thought you might want to leave the group.’
Astarion gasps dramatically, earning a roll of the eyes from the kitten in his lap.
“Me? Oh, I would never.”
'But you wanted to talk about the group–"
"Ah. Well. Yes."
Astarion gestures to the kitten in his lap. A kitten who now naps peacefully with no care in the world.
"I figured I would need some sort of permission before brining a cat back to camp. I thought that sleeping with our makeshift leader would certainly have its benefits in convincing you that Tiger needs to join our party."
A weight has been lifted off your shoulders. For now, it seems that Astarion wishes to stay with you and the others.
He simply wanted to bring another member to the party. A member who just happens to be an adorable kitten who makes your lover smile.
'Tiger can join the group. Anything that will make you smile like that is always welcome.'
"R-Really?"
He seemed surprised, but you don't miss the happiness that flows from him.
"Always putting my needs before your own… No one has ever done that for me…"
You smile and lean back, sighing softly to yourself as you look up to the sky once more. Perhaps Astarion was truly unaware of your feelings for him. He has you tied around his finger… and you wouldn't have it any other way.
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tarithenurse · 4 months ago
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I see fire
Fandom: D&D 5E/homebrew campaign. Word count: 2309 Contents: Still that questionable justice system, probation, new people, gross food. A/N: This is the first bit from the actual campaign. Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag. Divider by @firefly-graphics
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IV
Zilvra has been listening to the distant sounds of the city for several days, unable to get a glimpse of the sky through the bars in the window unless she were to stand on the shit bucket – not an appealing thing to do so she has refrained.
Then one day a couple of guards come with a finely dressed man in tow who explains that it’s time for her to work off her debt.
Silently, she follows them through the city, blinking in the sharp sunlight as she tries to get her bearings along the way to a large building with a sign hanging by the door. It’s adorned with crossed weapons (a sword and a mace) upon a shield and beneath it are the words “Adventurers’ Guild”.
She can’t help to hesitate for a moment, not having expected this but rather some factory or maybe work at the docks, but she’s only given a few seconds before one of the guards pushes her forward and across the threshold.
The room is big but also tightly packed with smaller groupings of equally excited and nervous looking people. Most of them are humans but there are a few elves too...and two very colourful individuals – a male and a female who appear to be feeling out of place judging by the way they are looking about.
The male is blue skinned with poofy white hair that he’s tried to comb. He’s well armoured but oddly lithe. Allowing her gaze to travel the length of his body, Zilvra notices that his leather armour appears to be fitted with extra nobs and switches and he has some unidentifiable items hanging from his belt. She is unsure what race he is.
The female on the other hand is elvish although she is far from the race of either drow or High Elves...even Wood Elves would look different although her green colour scheme might be well suited for a life in the forest. Long hair (a darker green) is loosely braided and pushed to one side, allowing a view of a light leather armour and flowy clothes that still seem practical.
That’s all Zilvra has time to take note of before she’s pushed in their direction.
“These are your new friends,” the neatly dressed escort explains, returning from a desk where a rough looking man with black beard and hair is sorting through stacks of papers.
Handing a key to a guard, the escort watches as Zilvra’s manacles are unlocked, freeing her of the chain and ball she’d been lugging around for a long time. Oh, it feels wonderful and the drow can’t help but relish the feather light feeling of freedom only to have it snatched away as the man steps over and conjures new bonds on her wrists and neck. Lighter and without the heavy ball, they manage to remind her of her current status just as well as the previous tethers. At least, though, her items are returned to her and she quickly dons them all.
“They will tighten with time, eventually killing you if you don’t check in with the right people to have them loosened once more,” the escort explains, motioning to the bonds, “we will arrange for that...but make sure to make it to your destinations in time.” Then he turns to the two colourful people: “You now have a full group. Take some time to get to know each other.”
Slinking off to join the guards, the wizard (or whatever he is) gives the three strangers a chance to greet each other.
It turns out the female, who is green skinned, is called Morella and that she’s an eladrin – a Fey elf. She’s a bit vague on some subjects of her life but Zilvra writes it up to nerves and the fact that you don’t tell strangers everything right off the bat. Goodness knows Zilvra won’t.
The blue male is an air genasi by the name of Anvindr Hayate and while he is from this realm technically, he has chosen to embark on a journey of knowledge and research to ultimately help his kin return to where they came from. He doesn’t go into further details but prompts the drow to explain who she is, looking pointedly to the bonds on her wrist and neck.
“My name’s Zilvra Shadowsong,” she offers truthfully, “I’m...also on a bit of an educational quest. I know this first impression is probably not favourable but I promise the wrongs I’ve been accused of are...” she hesitates, looking for the right words, “I just wanted to admire the stars and while I may have been trespassing to get to the roof to do so, I’ve done no harm.”
A discreet snort of either disagreement or incredulity makes the three look over, finding the wizard to be looking at them intently. Noticing that he’s been spotted (although he was obviously not trying to hide it), he steps over.
“Even if you hadn’t trespassed, Roof Walking is still a crime and, in fact, you’ve been let off easy,” he claims. Then his expression softens a bit. “I’m curious to see what the three of you will accomplish as the oddball trio that you are.”
“Excuse me?” Morella bristles at his words.
He just smiles. “Look around. You’re all...misfits compared to the rest and that’s why we’ve placed you in a group together. You’re group D now. Master Tio will explain further once you’re ready,” with that he motions towards the large desk and the bearded man there, “but fear not...I have a feeling you’ve got potential.”
Watching as the man strides off out the door, it takes a moment for the newly made Group D to gather their thoughts.
“D,” Morella mocks, “what a lame name.”
Anvindr shrugs. “Guess we can have it changed?”
“To what?”
He looks both women over. “The misfits? The...rebels?”
Both females perk up at the last suggestion and the trio decides to go with that. Then they approach the desk.
Master Tio is a stout man with clear eyes and several scars that probably can be attributed to a life of adventure for himself. Straightening from his hunched position, he looks over the odd trio with a crooked smile.
“So you’ve accepted working together? Good good.” He ruffles through one of the stacks of papers on the desk, eventually procuring two documents but then shakes his head at one of them before returning it to the stack. “I got a job for you, if you want it.” His eyes are on Zilvra, and she picks up on the unspoken meaning: she doesn’t have a choice. “I want you to head to Heartwell Shire – it’s three or four days’ travel from here if you head east to Oldgarde and north from there. In Heartwell, find Deputy Willem and Marshal McBribe, they’ll fill you in on the rest but I can say that it’s something about the mine up there.” He explains more about the trip: people who can help them with shelter and food in Oldgarde thanks to the way the system is set up with identifying tags (they’re copper rank), the fauna of the region which is unfamiliar to them all, and the time pressure that at least Zilvra is under. “You’ve got five days so you want to get there to get the bonds extended.”
The newly acquainted outsiders exchange glances, at least one of them having a clear preference to make the trip as quick as possible.
“One thing before we leave,” Morella asks sugary sweet, “while walking from the harbour I couldn’t help but notice the damage to the city?”
Something dark crosses Tio’s face. “Yeah...long story short, a rebellious group of masons went amok and caused quite a bit of destruction. It got so bad the king had to intervene and they killed him. It’s best not to talk too much about it for now.” He slumps back in his chair, staring fixedly on a bare spot on the desk. “Just know that the guilty have been dealt with under orders of the widower queen. Now git.”
Not daring to push the subject further, the trio exits the Guild House, finding themselves on a street that has truly woken up. Already having all they need, the three of them thankfully agree to set off towards Heartwell Shire along the route suggested by Tio.
As the group walks, they slowly begin chatting more openly. First contemplating the system for adventurers, they can’t help but wonder what it takes to rise in the ranks.
“So if we’re copper,” Morella contemplates, “and we already will get free food and lodging...what will we get at silver and gold ranks?”
“Actually paid?” Zilvra suggests, thinking of her empty coin purse.
The male nods. “I’ve been told, and I hope it’s true, that you’d get access to places like the library and such.”
“Why do you hope that?” the eladrin asks curiously.
“I need to do some research...” Sighing, it’s evident that he takes the moment to consider what to tell them. “I...my people have been forced to flee our home. We come from another plane of existence and...let’s just say it hasn’t been pretty. I want for us to take back our home.”
The women nod.
“I come from a different plane of existence too,” the colourful of the females admits to no one’s surprise, “from the Fey Wild.”
“Why’d you leave?” Zilvra asks.
“...I don’t know...I can’t remember.” Stunned silence forces Morella to elaborate: “I just...I know I was there one moment and the next I was on a ship in the middle of the ocean. The people onboard were kinda shocked at me appearing out of nowhere. They were nice though, told me we were headed to Stouvania.”
The two other share a glance.
Anvindr is the one to speak up: “So you need to get back home.”
“Nah, I kinda like seeing new things so this is exiting,” the Fey elf grins, “besides I wouldn’t know where to go there either so might as well enjoy this for a while. Maybe I’ll remember something eventually.”
“But won’t people be looking for you?”
She seems surprised at the idea as if she hadn’t considered that before. “Maybe?”Then she turns with a smile to the drow. “And you?
Zilvra doesn’t quite like the beaming attention. “Well...as I said: I didn’t intend to do anything illegal. Yeah, alright, I might have been trespassing but I just wanted to look at the stars! We don’t have them in the Underdark.”
“Underdark?” Morella wonders.
Explaining briefly about the world below ground where she’s from, Zilvra manages to avoid further questions about her past. For now.
---
They walk the entire day, arriving at Oldgarde by sunset.
The place is nothing more than a village, though, with only one bigger building – the inn which clearly has been expanded in recent years and bears the sign “Lion’s Pride Inn”. Several of the city’s guards can be seen strolling or loitering, making Zilvra slightly uneasy, tugging at her sleeves and hood to hid the bonds. As the trio is about to enter the inn, they spot one of the other newly formed adventuring groups.
They’ve barely stepped into the crowded place before a boisterous woman bears down on them, presenting herself as Malikka. Showing her their tags, she verifies that food’s on the house and that they can sleep in the basement.
Checking out the quarters, the trio is utterly dismayed (and grossed out). What once might have been a coal or root cellar has barely been cleared out and in one corner there’s still a pile of refuse with plenty of fat rats. Not to mention the half full piss pot.
It is free, though, and none of the trio has money to buy a room instead so they accept, returning to the main room of the tavern for the promised meal only to be disappointed once more by stale and moulding bread and ale gone bad. Thankfully, Morella has a few tricks up her sleeve and is able to create a tiny but filling meal of Goodberries.
While nibbling, Zilvra points out the other group of adventurers and eventually Anvindr walks over to them, the rest of the trio in tow, and suggests an arm wrestling match so he can test out something about his armour.
The group consists of three male humans called Owen, Hayden, and Adam. Owen, a strong guy who might be a fighter, accepts the challenge after downing his expired beer. The other two discreetly push their mugs towards their friend, too disgusted by the contents to want to drink it, making Owen beam happily. Perhaps that joy is what carries him to a hard earned victory despite the steam slipping from Anvindr’s armour as they compete.
“Where’ve you got that armour from?” Hayden asks, fidgeting with the rings of his own.
The air genasi smiles proudly while rubbing his hand where it got slammed into the table. “I made it myself. I’m a bit of a tinkerer.”
It turns out to be a merry evening. No one but Owen drinks the ale, making sure that nothing goes to waste, and eventually everyone finds their way down into the basement to get some rest – the two of elven kin taking turns to rest so someone is awake at all times...and good thing too because during Zilvra’s watch, Owen wakes up: sick from the beer he pukes in the corner before she can do anything, barely acknowledges her help with cleaning him up after (long live magic) and eventually falling asleep again.
The only other thing that happens during the night is a strange metamorphosis of the eladrin as she changes appearance during her restful trance: from verdant greens and pinks to flaming hues that could match the warmest fire.
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dragon-swords-prophecies · 11 months ago
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Writing Excerpt: Enna's Prequel
In honor of the 2/3s winner of the poll I made last night, here's something I wrote last week.
(The winner was ''Anne gets rescued by a group of assorted sapphic women'')
Word Count: 1,227 Tw/cw: Blood/human sacrifice, murder, referenced death, the protaganist being afraid that someone close to them might die, fighting, weapons, blood. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything else. Context: Anne got kidnapped by a necromancer (Eleanor) who wants to use her (and enna) as the sacrifice(s) to kickstart a summoning ritual. She wants to use them because of who their dad is (loosely an angel (if you know d&d they're assimar)) and the magic that gives them. This is the scene of Effie, Enna, Thea, and Lauralei all going to rescue her, because none of them want her dead or an eldritch being trying to kill them all. Effie is Anne's girlfriend/partner/future wife, Lauralei & Thea are her friends, & Enna is her twin sister.
At the bottom of four layers of catacombs was a secret trapdoor, guarded by a man named Barnabus. Now, he was dead. Enna pushed the door open and descended down the flight of stairs beyond it. She wasn’t expecting what was at their bottom.
In the center of the room was a carved stone circle. It was detailed with hundreds, if not thousands, of symbols and phrases that Enna could never hope to understand. At one side of it, placing half melted candles into worn grooves, was an auburn haired woman. She was taller than Enna by at least a foot and everything about her screamed two things. She was a necromancer, and she was rich.
Her dress was ebony black and made of fine, heavy cloth. It was the kind of fabric that it would cost a hundred gold just to get wax out of, but here she stood, wax dripping past her skirt. Her hair was braided into a crown, and at the top there was a hair comb. It had a blood red ruby in its center, and the rest of it was gold. Her make up was flawless, and her skin the color of clouds.
Chained against the wall was a woman who could have been Enna herself. She was small; slightly built to begin with and months of near starvation having taken their toll. Her hair was limp, her cheeks hollow and her eyes half closed. Her ankles and both her wrists were shackled, and one arm was bent in a way that no one’s should be. The only thing that told her Anne was alive was the twin pulse beating alongside her own and the slow rise and fall of her chest.
“Oh, excellent, you’ve made it just in time for the main spectacle,” she said, her voice filled with a malice that contained far too much glee for Enna to be comfortable with. Her voice was smooth—like velvet. “I would so hate for you to miss it,” Eleanor continued.
“What are you doing to her,” demanded Enna, feeling a short figure push against her back and knowing that Effie was behind her on the stairs.
“Oh,” laughed Eleanor, “Nothing I wouldn’t do to you. I was hoping I would get to kill all three of you, but,” —and here her voice took on a darker turn— “Zenderian killed the boy before I got the chance. Pity, that, but no matter. The two of you combined will be plenty strong enough for what is needed. Who knows, there might even be leftovers!” She giggled.
Enna let the arrow fly.
The giggling cut off abruptly. Suspended in the air in front of Eleanor’s throat was the arrow. It floated in space, bobbing gently in a nonexistent breeze. She reached up and plucked it out of the air like she was plucking a raspberry off a bush. “A steel tipped arrow. How… quaint.” Her lip curled, and she flung it to one side. It clattered against the flagstones.
Effie moved to Enna’s side, where she had a clear view of the room. She drew a vial from her belt, and hefted it in her hand as if to chuck it at Eleanor. Then she looked at Anne, and how close the two women were, and she lowered it.
“That’s right, little gnome. Just surrender now, and everything will be perfectly fine.”
“No! It won’t be! It isn't! You’re trying to kill my partner, who I love very much and would like to not be sacrificed for the birth of an eldritch demon.”
Eleanor stood to her full height as Effie withdrew a small crossbow from her back and two more figures moved past Enna to flank her and Effie. She drew a long and wickedly curved knife from her belt. It’s handle was worn, and the iron blade was sharp enough to gleam in the half-light.
“Oh, darling,” she purred. “Birth? No, this is just waking them up. They’ve existed for a long, long time.” She raised the knife behind her.
Effie hissed. “Fuck. You.” She pulled the trigger on the crossbow, watching as a pair of bolts fired straight for her.
Sure, she couldn’t use her potions. But that didn’t mean Effie was defenseless. She was a damn sight with a crossbow, and this one she had modified herself. The bolts weren’t steel, not completely. Copper did not, as a rule, mix particularly well with magic. It was practically impervious to it, which made it a very good weapon against spellcasters. In this case, necromancers.
Effie’s bolts shot, one and then another, cutting Eleanor off mid monologue. The first missed. It landed in the mortar of the wall behind Eleanor. The other didn’t. It flew straight into her upper arm and buried itself there. Eleanor screeched, and raised the knife with her uninjured arm. With the point she drew a careful line down Anne’s chest. The cut was shallow; about six inches long. It began at her throat. Blood began to bead along the edges, and slowly drip into the carvings below. It began to spread out in the carved circle. Eleanor began to smile. It was cold, and cruel, and the most terrifying thing Enna had ever seen in her life.
She didn’t know what scarred her more: Eleanor’s smile, or the fact that Anne didn’t react to the cut at all. The only sound she made was the slow ‘huff’ of her breathing, barely audible over the noise. At the same time, footsteps all at once began in the corridor to the left and immediately got louder. Temerity and Geir emerged from the archway. They were both armed to the teeth.
“Fuck,” said Lauralei, eloquently.
“You three deal with them,” said Thea. “I’ll get Anne.”
They nodded. Enna looked at Lauralei. “Make her feel it, will you?”
“Oh, she will,” said Lauralei grimly.
Just like that, the battle began. Enna dropped her bow and drew two of her daggers. She locked eyes with Temerity. The assassin drew her own blades.
“Fair fight?” she offered.
“Fair fight. No magic.”
“No bows,” countered Temerity. The two women circled each other.
“Fine. Three knives?”
“Don’t press your luck, Enna.”
“Alright. No bow, no magic. Agreed?”
“No magic, no bow,” said Temerity, and made the first move.
We must here pause in our narrative to clarify three things. One (1): Temerity was first and foremost an assassin. Her targets never saw her coming. Having one who could was throwing her off. That didn’t mean she was a shoddy fighter in the open—quite the opposite, in fact—but it did mean that just for the next few seconds, Enna had the upper hand.
Two (2): Temerity fought dirty.
Three (3): So did Enna.
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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years ago
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Chapter 17 - 18+ as usual
Wisely, Rhys stayed only as long as it took to finish his drink. Nesta did not need the company. Did not want the company of these people. She had never wanted it. She had never needed anybody to hold her hand and comfort her. She was her own support.
A spare room had been offered for Nesta’s comfort that night, but there was not a chance she was leaving Azriel’s side until he was conscious. Even then, Nesta likely wouldn’t want to be away from him.
Nobody bothered them at least. They’d heeded her words or Rhysand had reiterated them. Or perhaps the fire that had blazed on her body did the trick. Whatever it was, Nesta didn’t care. She couldn’t maintain false niceties tonight. If they pushed against her, Nesta would not tolerate it. Her patience had evaporated, replaced only with thorny anger. If she had to suffer Morrigan’s presence once more, there was no telling what she might do.
She cleaned the blood that still stained his skin though Azriel did not stir during it. Neither did he wake when Nesta awkwardly manoeuvred his body to tug the stained sheets from beneath him. Very unlike him. He was the lightest sleeper that she had ever encountered, capable of rousing at the sound of a spider’s legs scuttling over the floor.
The skies turned to black as evening settled in, but still nobody knocked on despite the quiet murmuring outside the door occasionally. Nesta was relieved. Her stomach had knotted itself painfully. She’d cried a few times, wringing her face in her hands to muffle her tears, at the state of the situation they found themselves in. Her Azriel remained in a deep slumber, his breathing heavy, but even. The healer had given him pain relief to ease his sleep. The thick, red mark across his stomach was already knitting together absent Madja’s magic thanks to his quick healing abilities. In a few days, Azriel’s skin would be as it was, unblemished and unmarked. However, the aftermath of it lingered outside the door waiting to be acknowledged.
Where did they go from here? What were their options now? Whatever had happened between Cassian and Azriel that day had nearly resulted in Azriel’s death. The fissure between the group had expanded. It had grown so deep that Nesta wasn’t sure there was any chance of repairing it. If there was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to pursue it either. She had tried for peace for his sake. No good had come from it.
Later, Nesta opened the door an inch. All still waited outside with pinched expressions. They waited for her to speak, but she ushered only Rhysand into the room. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Cassian, not even for a moment. The pain was just too much to bear. He had caused this. He had nearly ruined them.
‘I don’t want to leave his side but we have a cat and he needs food and company.’
Rhys dipped his chin, his gaze burning against her skin. ‘I’ll have Cerridwen and Nuala head there. Do you want to eat? They’re just finishing dinner.’
‘No.’
‘Please, Nesta. You need to eat.’
‘I have no appetite.’
It was the truth because her stomach still twisted with pain each time her eyes settled on her love’s unconscious form. Nesta continued imagining a world with him, a world that was colder, darker, and unimaginably painful.
‘We’re outside if you need us. You should try and eat something.’
‘I don’t need a lecture. Not from any of you.’
Nesta handed the key over, but needed no more from them. They had done enough. The constant pecking at their relationship, the insistence that Cassian’s happiness deserved to be a priority. They had done more than enough. More than enough to try and destroy them.
She settled back beside Azriel. A shadow came to join her, nuzzling against her neck in such a tender move that she choked on her tears again.
‘We’ll take care of him,’ she murmured as more blanketed them both.
It was late into the night by the time his hazel eyes flickered open. He made a groggy noise at the back of his throat as he came to consciousness.
One candle still burnt in the room and the fire remained burning strong in the hearth to chase away the cold. Azriel blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the darkness, then they sought her out.
‘Sorry I missed dinner.’
Nesta’s bottom lip wobbled then before she could help it, tears leaked down her face. She kissed his cold hands. Her every thought was that he might not have lived another day.
‘Don’t cry, my love. Please don’t cry.’ Azriel groaned as he hauled himself upright and reached for her. ‘Look, I’m fine. Everything is fine, Nesta. Stop those tears.’
The balled-up, bloodied sheets were still in a heap on the floor. The strips of muslin which had been used to clean him were heaped on top in ribbons of pink. Nesta broke into tears once more.
Azriel seemed to realise where exactly they were; not in the sanctuary of their home but the River House with vultures swarming outside. Too perceptive, Azriel noticed her discomfort at being there as well.
‘Let’s head home.’
Nesta pushed him back down onto the mattress when he foolishly attempted to rise. That was how she knew he was truly weakened, because she was able to overpower him.
‘You need to rest.’
‘The cat-’
‘Little Devlon is being cared for by your wraiths.’
‘We’re not calling him that.’
Nesta shook her head. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been calling him that all day. It’s stuck.’
A smile bubbled up on Azriel’s lips then a slow, tired laugh. Nesta had to laugh then too. They had named their ugly, little kitten after an Illyrian camp lord. What a ridiculous day.
‘You’re so beautiful when you laugh.’
Azriel linked his fingers with hers, smiling despite how heavy his eyes were growing again. His ginger movements suggested the pain was worse than he was letting on. Shadows nestled against him on the bed and Nesta knew she loved even those too. She loved all of him. And that love hurt. Terror had struck her the moment she’d seen him with a healer looming over his bleeding body. That terror still had her in its grip – a constant worry that this was only the beginning. She wasn’t brave enough to keep battling through this storm. If she lost him, Nesta would never heal from it.
He patted the space beside him. ‘Be with me here.’
After Nesta had slipped beneath the covers with him, Azriel curled onto her body like she tended to do to him. Her fingers laced into his black hair, stroking softly as he drifted back into a sleep. It was the heaviest sleep she had ever seen from him, so much so that his lips parted and a soft snore rattled between his lips.  
It was difficult to see the golden sky that lay at the end of the storm. This badness felt never ending. Nesta couldn’t stop herself from imagining what might have happened if the knife had gone a little deeper or snagged an artery. Nesta could be without him. A permanent absence not just from her life, but all of their lives. The very thought made her heart clench in fear. She loved him too much to think of a life where the shadow singer didn’t exist.
***
Azriel’s beautiful, beautiful Nesta needed reassurance that he was not in imminent danger of dying before she’d even agree to return home - then more encouragement to actually return home and return to normality. He framed it as a need to speak with Cassian which he could tell Nesta was not at all comfortable with, but it gave her that little push to leave. He hated himself for exploiting that fear. The truth was, he wasn’t well enough to leave in the morning – but he couldn’t bear to admit it and see Nesta cry again. From the shadows beneath her eyes, Azriel knew she hadn’t slept a wink by his side. She had maintained her vigil beside him until he was conscious again through love, not duty. She’d have stayed there still, abandoning her own care for herself to be with him.
In her absence, the room was colder. He didn’t like to be away from her. It had never been like that before. Never had Azriel craved another’s company as much as Nesta’s. Solitude suited him – or so he’d thought until he had turned up at her door and hadn’t been sent away. It was the best decision of his life. Despite it all, Azriel was excited to grow with Nesta. The future was still bright.
Eventually, the heavy sound of Cassian’s boots traipsing up the stairs broached the silence and tugged him away from missing Nesta too much. He knocked and waited for a reply – highly unlike Cassian who tended to swagger into any room, wanted or unwanted.
The general’s eyes were bloodshot too from lack of sleep, his face as pale as the moment he’d pushed the knife into Azriel’s gut. Sheer horror had flooded Cassian when he’d realised what he’d done. It had been a moment of blind anger. A quick reaction to reach for a knife when he saw red. It still didn’t feel real. They’d had fights in the past though they had been silly things full of hormones when they were young mostly. This was new territory.
Sheepishly, he hovered near the door until Azriel gestured to the chair.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You said that about three hundred times yesterday before I lost consciousness.’
He pressed a hand against his abdomen as a sharp pain lanced through him. Madja had already paid a flying visit that morning to dose him up with more ointments. The others had also popped their heads in to pass on their well wishes under Nesta’s watchful eye.
Cassian stared at Azriel as if he was about to vomit from the sight of his pain. They’d both had worse injuries in the past. Hell, they’d protected each other from them too. But, Azriel supposed, their injuries had never been caused by the other.
‘Why didn’t you just say it was an accident, Cass? Sparring gone wrong.’
‘Az, I stabbed you. Why would you cover for me?’
‘Because you’re my brother,’ he said simply, letting out a breath as the pain passed. ‘I said horrid things to you because I knew it would provoke you.’
‘I stabbed you,’ he repeated in disbelief. ‘So blinded by anger, I fucking stabbed you, Azriel. How can you even want me near you?’
‘We’ve spent five hundred years standing side by side and I still want that.’
Cassian pressed his fingers into his forehead, massaging the skin. ‘I don’t think I can. I don’t know how I can move past this.’
Azriel let out a low chuckle that sent another ripple of pain through his abdomen. ‘I’m the one who got stabbed, not you.’
‘I’m the one whose brother is fucking his mate.’
If Azriel wasn’t so severely weakened or without a weapon, he might have driven Truth-Teller through Cassian’s neck for speaking so vulgarly about Nesta. He managed to get himself out of the bed then fumbled to put his clothes back on. Nesta had folded them neatly onto the chair despite the blood staining them.
‘For once in your life, shut the fuck up. We are going in circles. It’s not up for debate. Nesta is mine. I am hers. That’s not changing. She’s not with you. She doesn’t want you. She doesn’t want the bond.’
Their voices had risen to a level that drew attention. Mor and Feyre pushed through the door, faces wary. Azriel was unsteady on his feet but forced himself to hold his ground despite Cassian’s snarling.
‘Stop fighting. For Cauldron’s sake, just stop arguing,’ Mor begged, tears already rimming her eyes as she yanked Cassian back a step. ‘Can’t you see what this is doing to us all, Az? Why can’t things just go back to how they were?’
‘How were they, Mor?’
‘We were happy.’
Perhaps happiness meant different things to each person. Azriel certainly hadn’t been happy – not for a prolonged period. There were good days scattered amongst the bad. Then fifty years without Rhys, locked in Velaris with only the Mother knew what happening across Prythian. He hadn’t felt settled before, hadn’t known how it was to be loved unconditionally by anyone other than his mother. Now, Azriel could say he was happy. He looked forwards to waking up, knowing he had someone good beside him. More than that, he lacked jealousy or insecurity because Nesta had never given him a reason to doubt her heart.
‘When?’
Mor glanced to Feyre for support. A tear streaked down her cheek. ‘Before the war. We were all so close and she’s taking you away from us.’
‘Stop right there,’ he warned. Shadows flocked to him, swamping him. It was miniscule, but Azriel still caught Mor’s slight cringe at the sight of them. How foolish he had been to think there ever could have been a future when Mor couldn’t be near his shadows.
‘No, Az. I tried to speak to her yesterday, tried to make her see reason. You deserve better. She turned around and said I should be with Eris.’
The mention of Eris Vanserra in relation to Mor usually made Azriel blind with anger. He had always dreamt of having free reign against Eris for what had been done to his friend, but the ire didn’t rise up today. But why would Nesta bring up Eris unprovoked? It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t like that.
Mor anticipated his wrath. Her brown eyes were wide in anticipation, hoping to divert his attention away from Nesta.
‘You went to Nesta to interfere knowing that I wasn’t home.’
She shifted closer to Cassian who settled a hand on her shoulder.
‘Because. Because it’s all so wrong. I was just trying to help.’ Mor looked again to Feyre who had lost the ability to speak. His high lady looked defeated, tired from the argument that had been rehashed over and over again. Cassian still stood with a face like thunder – though at least he was unarmed today. ‘She doesn’t fit in with us.’
‘So why are you so determined to have her fucking Cassian?’ He couldn’t keep the snarl out of his voice. ‘Because he has a right to her?’
‘No,’ Mor whined, voice breaking. ‘They have a history.’
‘A kiss before they thought they were going to die? I live with Nesta. I have lived with her for months. Who gives a shit about their fucking paltry history?’
Mor was about to speak then Azriel held up his hand to silence her. ‘I could say something immeasurably cruel to you, Mor, but I won’t. Because I care for you.’
If she wanted to bleat about a few months of flirting and arguing between Nesta and Cassian as a basis of a history that meant he had a divine right to her, then Azriel could have mentioned her history with Eris. Hell, Mor had more of a history with Cassian than Nesta did. No, he wasn’t that cruel. He couldn’t be that awful to her no matter how jaded he felt. There were some lines that were never meant to be crossed.
‘Know this, if you – or any of you – seek out Nesta again when you know I am not there, there will be consequences. You are to stay away from Nesta. You even look at her in a way that I don’t like and I will make sure you know about it.’
‘Is this what you want?’ Mor demanded as he fought his way past the three of them. He wanted to go home and be with his girl. He’d had enough of this place. These people. ‘You want to spend Starfall treading on eggshells so we don’t upset your precious Nesta?’
Azriel shrugged. ‘You think I want to spend a Starfall with any of you? As far as I’m concerned, I have the love of my life. I need no other. Only Nesta. If it means I leave this court, then so fucking be it. She is my priority.’
***  
Being a daemati meant that Rhys knew the truth of what happened as soon as he returned from Illyria. It had been a mistake to go and leave that pot simmering in his absence. Feyre had allowed him through her mental shields to witness yet another catastrophe. Mor had stormed off to her private residence before he’d even returned home and Cassian was off wallowing somewhere. He’d managed to check in with Azriel to ensure that he had made it home and wasn’t collapsed somewhere in Velaris. That male had a will of iron – in that regard, Azriel and Nesta were identical.
‘This is a disaster.’
Rhys pulled his mate into his lap and wound his arms around her.
Ruling a court had always been straightforward because his circle was solid. Fractures in that circle rippled through the Night Court. Word had travelled like wildfire that the shadow singer and the general had departed together then returned with one bloodied on the brink of death. Azriel would need to make an appearance in Windhaven soon to prove that he still lived. If Cassian could stand united at his side, that would be better.
‘Tell me your thoughts, Feyre darling. You’ve looked sullen for days.’
In the last few weeks, they’d exchanged harsh words – the likes of which had never crossed their tongues before. Rhys hated it. They had always been on the same page.
‘Everything feels like it’s changing. I don’t like it.’
‘Everything changed when you joined us too,’ he said gently. It had – and Rhys was glad for it. He wanted that same joy for both of his brothers.
‘That’s different,’ she said. ‘We’re mates, Rhys. Nesta hasn’t ever fitted in with us.’
‘Can I ask why then that you are all of the opinion that she’d somehow fit in if she was with Cass?’
Feyre’s mouth opened and closed, unable to muster a reply. Rhys had caught her in a web; a web Mor had spun that Feyre had watched her weave. They weren’t her words. It wasn’t true that Nesta didn’t fit in. For a time, she and Amren had been close. Nesta and Elain had also been as thick as thieves. Before all of this, Nesta and Azriel had always been cordial too. The tension came from Mor and Nesta; they had never been friends because they were too different. There was no common ground between them and that was fine, if they could be civil. At the moment, it seemed his cousin was struggling with that aspect.
‘You can be a prick sometimes.’
‘So you’ve told me plenty of times,’ he said as he pressed a kiss on the tender spot beneath her ear. ‘I know you love Cass and want him to be happy, but him and Nesta are not a good fit, Feyre. The Cauldron pairs two who could make strong offspring. It’s not always a love match. We’d witness a battle each breakfast.’
It was a truth she didn’t like to listen to because it put their own bond into question. They hadn’t had the best start – and Rhys regretted what he did to her Under the Mountain every damn day.
‘How can you say that?’
‘Because my father was nearly a thousand years older than my mother, Feyre, and they grew to despise each other in no time at all. Tamlin’s mother was so oblivious to his father’s cruelty that she allowed their sons to be warped into creatures like him because the bond blinded her.’
When she tried to escape, Rhys held Feyre firm. It was rare they did disagree so he wasn’t about to let her run away until they’d sorted through it.
‘Kallias and Viv-’
‘Were friends since childhood who loved each other before the bond ever snapped into place, Feyre. Elain cannot be near Lucien yet I don’t see you forcing them to interact.’
Feyre’s lips puckered together in displeasure. Elain had always been given allowances – Rhys could admit he did the same to the more gentle, docile sister. Nesta had never been his favourite person, but if even he could see that she was good for Az then surely Feyre could too. Cass was too loud and sociable for somebody like Nesta. Her and Azriel slotted together nicely. They were both quiet, preferring to socialise on their own terms and escape when they wanted.
‘If Azriel leaves us, we are massively disadvantaged. He is the backbone of this court and its manoeuvrings. There is so much that he does that you don’t know of. Things only he is capable of doing.’
More than the shadows and the spying, the things Azriel did in the Hewn City turned Rhys’ stomach but they had to be done. They might have been Rhys’ orders but Azriel was the sword that enacted them. It was Azriel who maintained the Night Court’s reputation for cut-throat cruelty. And only he could manage it without unravelling. Cassian was a good general who inspired his males to keep fighting, a fighter unrivalled, but there were always others willing to step up to the plate, others determined to prove themselves. Azriel was irreplaceable.
‘Az would have a target on his back wherever he went without our security. He does already. A shadow singer is so rare – and one who knows all of our intel, all of our secrets. I cannot risk losing Azriel, darling. Our entire court would crumble without him.’
Ruling was still new to Feyre. Objectivity was difficult when it concerned family. The crux of it was that Azriel held far more value in the hands of another court than Cassian. Further, Cassian was loyal to a fault. There was a reckless streak in Azriel that Rhys had never been able to leash. If Cassian threatened to leave, he’d never follow through with it whereas Azriel’s threats weren’t empty. If Azriel left, they would never hear from him again.
‘That aside, you still would support Azriel and not Cassian in this, Rhys.’
‘I would, yes. Because Azriel needs more love than most. Did I expect that love to come from Nesta? Never in my wildest dreams. Am I going to favour an established relationship where two are happy over the potential of one which I don’t think would be good for any? Yes, Feyre.’
She prised his fingers off of her so his grip slipped. Strange to think love could cause so much upset amongst their group. Rhys harboured guilt that Feyre had so readily been accepted and loved by his family when they couldn’t extend the same courtesy to Nesta. It was guilt that he’d not rolled out the welcome wagon initially; they had only taken his cue and been cool towards her. Mor saw fault in whatever Nesta did while Cassian had seen her as an opponent to be conquered. Rhys regretted it massively.
‘You’re acting like Azriel wasn’t the one who was stabbed,’ he said in disbelief. ‘Do you truly think Nesta would be this spiteful?’
That gave Feyre pause. She knew her sister better than any. Knew that for all of Nesta’s coldness and stubborn tendencies, there was a passion beneath it all which they’d seen in the war.
‘Do you think she would use Azriel, who she has never ever had an issue with, for months, let him live with her and build a life together out of spite? Feyre, do you really think that your sister would let this go on for months if it was just to piss Cassian off – you think Az would do this unless he was so utterly, hopelessly in love?’
Feyre was downcast. He could see she was grappling with the truth then finally she spread out her hands. ‘Where do we go from here then?’
Rhys rose to cup her face in his hands. He was lucky that his mate was a love match – so often it wasn’t.
‘We support them – all of them. If it means taking Cass to Windhaven daily to train and burn off his anger then that’s what we’ll do. If we have to manage every single interaction until they can all be near each other then we do that. If Starfall and Solstice mean that we only see Az and Nesta for a couple of hours but they’re two good hours then we take it.’
***
Azriel all but staggered through the front door, grimacing from pain and clutching his abdomen. Little Devlon scarpered towards the bedroom from the sound of the front door banging against the frame.
‘You should be resting!’
‘Missed you too much,’ he managed through his gasping breaths.
Nesta braced his weight on her as she helped him into the bedroom. He collapsed onto his back on the bed with an almighty groan.
‘You walked here?’
‘Couldn’t winnow it all. Too tired.’
Nesta allowed him to catch his breath while she made a late breakfast for them then she promptly stripped off his bloody clothes and ushered him beneath the blankets. The pallor of his face made her gut churn with worry again although he waved away her concern.
While they ate, Azriel explained what had happened. His bites were laboured and each mouthful was forced down painfully. Defending her honour should have brought Nesta joy but it only made her more wary of that massive chasm growing between them.
‘Why didn’t you tell me Mor came here?’
Nesta pushed his wayward hair from his beautiful face. ‘In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t feel important.’
She didn’t need to bleat to Azriel each time somebody tried to hurt her feelings – especially not when he was bleeding out in the same room as the person who’d pissed her off that day.
‘She’s jealous,’ Nesta said, unable to let it slide fully. ‘Jealous that it’s not her that you and Cassian squabble over anymore. And to rub salt in the wound, you’re arguing over me.’
‘I know,’ he admitted. ‘I feel fucking stupid for ever imagining a future with her.’
Nesta pressed her finger to the tip of his nose. ‘I’ll forgive you for your poor judgement.’
In between hours of dozing, they played board games and did puzzles. Sometimes they chatted quietly, hands linked and heads touching as the cat alternated between snoozing beside them or trying to fight Azriel’s wiggling toes.
‘Starfall is coming soon.’
‘Would you be mad if I didn’t go?’
His jaw tensed then his expression softened. ‘Why don’t we go to Illyria?’
That was novel. Nesta combed through his hair like a chimp making him laugh.
‘What are you doing to me?’
‘Just checking there isn’t a head injury too. You want to go to Illyria? You? Azriel?’
They would head to Illyria in a week for Starfall, it was decided. They’d stay with his mother, taking little Devlon with them, and watch the strange light performance from there. He promised it was beautiful in the mountains and they could even go to the sea if it wasn’t too cold. Nesta knew she’d get the blame for their lack of attendance at the House of Wind, but she’d keep her head down and ignore their words.
‘Can you check my stomach? It’s hurting.’
Nesta lifted his shirt, savouring the look of his tattoos across his muscled upper body. She touched her hand to Azriel’s stomach, fingers glancing briefly over the faint, red scar. ‘Here?’
‘Lower,’ he grimaced.
Her fingers worked lower, skimming over his navel but he still said the pain was lower than that. She wondered if Madja had missed something, whether he was truly healed on the inside or if there was a slowly bleeding vein that leaked out inside of him. Nesta reached the vee of his hips and tugged his pants down slightly, brow creasing in the absence of any marks.
‘Lower.’
Nesta’s hand hovered over his crotch. She saw his suppressed smile and rolled her eyes.
‘With the amount of blood you lost, do you really think there’s enough left in your body to do that?’
‘I could be on the brink of death and still be able to perform for you, my love.’
‘You were on the brink of death.’
Azriel still grinned at her from the top of the bed. ‘Exactly. You might never have had the chance to make love to me again so you need to seize the opportunity now.’
‘Do I now?’ In spite of herself, a smirk spread across her lips. ‘I fear that if what little blood you have left goes there, you won’t get any air to your brain.’
‘A good way to go. Take your clothes off and get on top of me.’
When his patience snapped, it sent a little thrill through Nesta. She liked it when he told her what to do.
Her dress was discarded. Then her underwear. Azriel watched with shadows flicking from side to side.
Nesta squatted onto the bed, sinking down onto his hard length with an appreciative sigh, eager to have him. ‘I love being filled by you.’
‘Be a good girl and take it all.’
His arms were out to help her support herself as she bounced on his cock while he watched on with delight. She had to be gentle with him while he healed – but he’d disregard all pain for this.
When her legs gave way from holding her weight, she tipped forwards towards him. Azriel wrapped her in his arms, raising his hips until he gave a short gasp and spilled inside of her.
Their night was spent with little reprieve. They were creative with their positions so that Azriel could move as little as possible. It was easier if he sat so she could kiss his mouth too or he’d take her breast to his mouth and trail his teeth against her nipple. They were making up for time they could have lost. He came again and again inside of her, claiming her so thoroughly that every male in Prythian would know Nesta was Azriel’s.
They fell asleep with their bodies flush against each other, Azriel’s arms wrapped around her front holding her to him. He’d taken her hard on their sides, pretending he felt no pain, despite the frantic movements until he’d come and she could feel his seed seeping down her thigh onto the sheets. She was too tired to care. It had to be close to dawn by the time they had finished and Azriel’s breathing quickly grew heavy. With their sweaty limbs still tangled, Nesta slipped into sleep with the male she loved. The male who was still here.
@chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @theleafpile @loysydark @rarephloxes @wannawriteyouabook @misteryhen
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lebenspurpur · 3 years ago
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If possible could you do Vincent, Bubba, and Thomas with a goth s/o?
AN: I don't write for Bubba, unfortunately, but you'll gladly get Thomas and Vincent.
Warnings: Hoyt
Wordcount: 835 words
💿🖤🕷🕸⛓🌫💿🖤🕷🕸⛓🌫💿🖤🕷🕸⛓🌫💿🖤🕷🕸
Vincent Sinclair
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Oh my god, he loves it.
Vincent has a strange fascination regarding dark topics. A perfect example of that is his art, it's morbid and it shows that he's pretty interested in death, at least its artistic aspects. And that's basically what gothic subculture is. A strange fascination with dark and mysterious topics.
The style is something he digs but it's not that important. You could walk around in a sack and Vincent would still pray to you so that aspect is not really significant. He really likes it though. The black clothing, white skin, you look like a monochrome painting and Vincent loves that.
Make Vincent wear eyeliner. Not only will he love it, but it also makes him 10 times hotter (probably because he feels more confident and confidence is something our brain sees as attractive but anyway-).
He looks out for clothing pieces whenever he goes through the victims' stuff. Most of the time, there's not that much considering that half the people coming through Ambrose are pretty normal. However, fishnets, dark dresses or skirts, rings, and other accessories are often available and he collects them, just for you.
He always wanted to dress a bit more "edgy" himself but he never really had the chance to. Now, with you around, he finally has a reason. And man does he look good in a black, 17th-century-kind-of suit.
The aesthetic fits so wonderfully. Strolling through the dead town at night, just to arrive at your lover's studio, candles burning and classical music playing while he sketches you. It just fits, doesn't it?
Gothic style is pretty androgynous so that's a plus too. Vincent hasn't tried to dress more feminine before but he'd love to try.
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(Imagine Vincent in this, with some pretty eyeliner and some artists gloves, please i-)
The mindset is something he identifies with as well. It might be pretty negative but Vincent's life has been pretty negative so far, so it fits.
If you want to have adorable goth dates in the middle of the night, he's your man. Picnic at the old graveyard in Ambrose, art dates in his candle-lit studio, the opportunities are endless.
He likes the music too. Whether you enjoy dark classical tunes, metal, or new/darkwave, he's fine with all three. Usually, he plays either metal or classical while he works anyway, so your music is not something he isn't used to.
Let's not lie here, Vincent has listened to "Marian" by Sisters of Mercy on repeat before.
Thomas Hewitt
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He's scared. No, but as funny as that sounds, Thomas was raised as a Christian. And you look like a Satanist. He might not be afraid, but he is definitely suspicious.
Luda is very, very wary of you. She doesn't judge people based on how they look, but she does judge their style. And yours looks too dangerous for her little Tommy. It will take a long, long time for her to accept you.
Hoyt just simply hates you. You're exactly what he doesn't; want in "his country". Just ignore him, honestly. He's just a dumb old man, and you have Tommy to protect you.
After Thomas lost his skeptical thoughts, he's intrigued. You look so different from his family, his former victims, it's astonishing.
He wouldn't dress goth himself. He's much too busy for "prettying up" as Hoyt would call it. In addition to that, he wouldn't be able to work in those clothes so yeah, not his thing.
They do look good on you, in his opinion. He just identifies goth style with you now, so whenever you wear more formal things, he is a bit disappointed. Don't get him wrong, you look good in anything, but the darker clothing is just... you.
Thomas too collects stuff from victims for you. He's not as thorough as Vincent (mostly because he doesn't identify with goth subculture at all), but he tries his best.
Mysterious, dark things were always something he chose to ignore, even if his whole life circled around it. Obviously, Thomas knows what he's doing and how wrong it is, but that doesn't mean he has to show interest in more "dark" subjects.
He's always glad to do something with you though, even if it's more goth. Not at night though. Thomas is a hardworking man, he needs his sleep.
Thomas always thought he'd loathe the music you listen to, but surprisingly, it's not that bad. He prefers classical music, but shockingly, even metal isn't something he hates. Thomas has a lot of rage pent up inside of him, and the violent music helps him with it. He's pretty glad that you introduced him to the genre.
The family doesn't really have a use for you. You can't exactly lure in visitors. After all, you look rather scary and they're trying to let people into the house, not shoo them away.
Thomas doesn't and won't wear makeup, no matter how hard you beg. On his mask, he might. But on his real face? Never.
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littlefreya · 4 years ago
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The Devil’s Tongue
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Summary: A mask of virtue hides a man riddled with lust and while his stoicism proceeds him, even he can’t withstand a begging girl. 
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (3rd person POV)
Warning: 18+. Manhandling, abuse of power, MaleDom/FemSub, some thigh riding, unprotected sex, deflowering, loss of virginity, mild mentions of blood, sex in front of mirror (auto-voyeurism), profanities, bodily fluids, possessive behaviour. 
Words: 4.5k
A/N: Many thanks to my muse @agniavateira for supporting me through this story and for betaing. This was inspired by a certain scene in the film. My pervy mind took it elsewhere. Sincerely, I am not sure how I feel about it, so I’ll let you be the judge while I’m having my panic attack. 
Please reblog and give feedback if you enjoyed. 🖤
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own*
Title: The Devil’s Tongue
The treacherous moon was already high in the midnight sky and winds of melancholia whispered through the ivy leaves that grew timidly around the window’s panes. Despite the solace of night, her blood seeped with venom, and vicious thorns grew beneath her skin.
Striding through the desolate corridors of Holmes’ estate, Vanessa fumed while listening to the sounds of the old house: the creaking of the floorboards, the glass panes rattling in the wind, and the scratching of mice that ran between the walls. A kerosene lamp hung heavy between her sweaty fingers; her knees cracked as she marched forward to face her master.
Same as every night, Sherlock hid in his library to chase adventures behind thin sheets of paper. He was not to be disturbed, though he left her no choice.
Sent her away he did, claiming that her service was no longer needed even though she was promised a home at the estate, despite Enola’s departure. The worst of it was that he didn’t even bother telling her himself, but simply sent another servant to announce that she must pack her belongings tonight.
‘Like hell, I would!’
Vanessa willed her heart to beat slowly as she tiptoed, cursing every wooden plank that grated beneath her feet. It’s been over a year since she started working for the Holmes family, and despite battling her concupiscence tooth and nail, Mr. Holmes has possessed her very existence. Sleepless nights left her yearning to drink the mead of his mouth and feel the slapping of his skin onto hers.
Wistfully, the brooding detective only stared at her with a lustre of ice. But the notion of never seeing him again felt like holding a blade pointed to her chest; the wish to confess nibbled in her gut like a pesky little fish.
‘At least I will have the chance to say farewell…’ she mused as she finally reached the open doorway of the library. It was a cosy cavern, stuffed with endless shelves of books and vases of pink roses to mellow its austerity.
Wood burnt to a crisp within the hearth, its aromatic scent bleeding into the air and a light layer of ashen mist wafted over the chamber. There sat her master, resting comfortably on his maroon leather armchair with a book in one hand and a pipe pressed between his succulent lips like a king on a throne of solitude.
Silently she stared, brow furrowing at his sight. It baffled her how a man can be so oblivious to the dangerous power he had over women. Sherlock was as divine as the coldest day of winter: eyes of crystal snow, curls darker than the night, and sharp facial features that gave a tinge of intimidating flavour. The ancient god Hades would have been jealous of his divinity. Even in these serene moments, Sherlock’s presence exhumed dominant masculinity, consuming oxygen like the fire that burnt in the mantle.
Clad in a white cotton shirt loose over his broad chest, he calmly turned a page on his book and sighed.
It was impossible not to sense her nearby. The young woman was a breeze of autumn wind: spiced yet soothing, bringing the omen of a season’s change. She tried very hard to hide her feral nature, abiding, serving, and acting polite. While she fooled everyone, including herself, he detected the brazen kiss that raged within her.
Nights were riddled by dreams of dismantling her shackles, only to bind her further to himself. And yet, every time he looked at her a loathing rage gnawed inside. To him, she was a dire trap meant to expose the thing that hid behind his mask of virtue—a reckless savage, sick with twisted desire.
It took true power to send her away. Yet, here she was, barging into his shelter to pour another drop of simmering turmoil into his already seething blood.
“Can’t sleep, Nessie?”
Vanessa jolted with a startle. His deep voice threaded tendrils of dark silk around her heart, attempting to draw it further out of her fragile ribcage. Maintaining attention on the book in his hand, Sherlock’s mouth twitched into a cold grin of respect, sensing her glare stabbing at his nape.
“You might be a mouse, but you have the stomp of an elephant.”
Forcing the book shut with a soft thud, Sherlock turned his head aside, daring to catch a glimpse of her. His pretentious smile died, and a surge of passion seized at his groin. Like the virgin Persephone, she stood before him wrapped in a sheer nightgown, the creamy fabric barely hiding her delicacies. A mystic glow of sweet honey and amber gold rimmed her flesh, kissing down her clavicles and leading his enslaved gaze to the soft heaps at her chest.
By courtesy, he should have looked away, but the wish to incinerate the silken threads that retained whatever left of her modesty whispered in his ear like a little devil that sat on his shoulder. It was cruel of her to provoke him like this.
Quirking an eyebrow with disdain, he finally battled the sight away.
“Something ails you, girl.” Sherlock’s rich baritone dropped. Touching the pipe to his maw, he took a long whiff and suckled his lip. “You seem unnecessarily emotional,” he noted dryly, pretending as if her appearance was a mystery.
Noticing the uncaring shift in his tone, she scowled and stepped carefully into the room. Placing the lamp on a nearby stand, she purposely stepped into his line of sight and looked at the frowning detective with the feral wilderness growing inside her chest.
“You’re sending me away tomorrow,” an unmistakable hint of rage seeped between the cracks in her voice. Grasping her knuckles, she began striding back and forth across the Parisian rug as if lost in her own musings, “why? What have I done to you?”
A small huff escaped his nose, and he rubbed a finger beneath his bottom lip. His patience spread thin as the young lady scurried about with hysteria. The mere idea of bending her over and teaching her some discipline caused the fabric of his trousers to stretch over his engorging desire.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, it was simply my decision.” He answered, striving to sound neutral and remorseless. “A lady’s maid without a lady is useless in a place like this. But now, Vanessa, it’s late, and I’d like to get back to my book. No reason for you to stand here in your... undergarments.”  
Lips agape and feet nearly colliding on to one another, Vanessa paused on her steps. His words crept a chill down the length of her spine, making her cheeks blaze. Passionate and irrational, she never even noticed her lack of chastity when she left her room.
“I… didn’t think much, I was upset…”
‘Of course, she didn’t think much. Irrational, savage thing.’
A string twitched in Sherlock’s cheek, and a dark errant lock fell rogue upon his pale temple as he turned his head aside, adamant to brush her away. His self-restraint was but a delicate, dying leaf, hanging by its last yellowing strand.
“I came here to ask you to…”
“I’m afraid it’s not negotiable.” Sherlock interrupted and swatted his hand flat on the leather binding. His stern glance floated out the window, focusing on a large spider that threaded lines of silver amidst the peeling frames. “You will find a new job in London, a better house,” he apprised and took a deep inhale, turning the book over to open it where he paused. “Now please leave before we’ll both hurt one another.”
‘Before I will pierce cavities in your soft flesh.’
Stunned by his dismissive, arctic demeanour, her stubbornness and frustration only grew to monstrous proportions. With clenched fists and water pooling at her lids, she grunted and took a courageous step closer, standing at the fore of his couch while shaking her head.
“No!”
“No!?” he scowled, eyebrows lowering with dismay. “You forget your place, woman.” He flashed her a quick warning look, his icy glare tinted midnight black as he stood at his wit’s end.
If only it didn’t make her heart shrivel with wanton. Their proximity perilously close, Sherlock’s strong scent pervaded into her lungs: a musky blend of whiskey, leather, and fine tobacco that made her thighs wobble. Before she could even register what’s happening, her knees were brushing the thick carpet, her decorum and dignity gone.
“I want to stay here. With you.”  Slender like stalking vines, her fingers crawled onto the armchair, squeezing at the smooth leather with pitiable desperation.
“Keep me, please!”
“Vanessa,” Sherlock drawled, still refusing to meet her gaze while his thumb circled deep into the coarse binding. Furious tides rose in his eyes, whisked by the rageful storm that inhabited his mind, “Do not make me regret this night.”
He didn’t want to hurt her, but she was pretty when she begged.
“You don’t know what it is that you’re asking, I am not the gentleman you think I am.”
Ignoring his warning, she insisted. Daring, needy talons rose from the armchair to claw at his arm, clutching it with demand. Even through barriers, a surge flushed between their bodies.
“Sherlock,” she half-whispered, crystal droplets of sadness gliding down the smooth slope of her cheeks. Not caring the least as they dribbled onto the soft sleeve of his shirt, leaving tiny stains that dampened his arm.
“Guide me, teach me, make me yours!”
Nostrils flaring and breath rigid, the large man finally snapped his stare at her with the sanguine hunger of a starved vampire. The mask of his virtue fell shattering to the floor, and a harrowing silence took over the room, diffused only by the sound of crackling embers and Vanessa’s shaky breath.
“Remember this tomorrow when you’re raw and hurting; this is what your begging bought you, little Nessie.”
A strangled gasp died at her sternum as his hand suddenly grasped her throat. With a quick yank, she was up on her feet, her toes barely scraping the ground as the hulking man held her up to his face.
“Oh the things I’ll do to you..” he whispered as his thumb dug deep onto her cheek and the rest of his fingers etched at her throat.
Swinging on his boots, he swept her across the silent halls. His stride a dark ceremonial gyrate, the creamy fabric of her pristine nightgown floating mid-air like a sheer tongue of white morning mist.  
“I will make you mine as you begged,” he rasped barbarically, one hand pushing the door open while the other held her attached to his chest, “I will teach you what you asked…” his lips brushed her ear, his breath hot over her cheek, “your first lesson begins... in my bed.”
With a swift shove, she was forced into his realm. Feet stumbling upon the tepid wooden floor, her ears throbbed with shock. Her hands reached to grasp onto the engraved bed column to prevent herself from falling.
His bedroom smelled of dying roses and smoked wicks, echoing the putrid decadence that gnawed at Sherlock’s mind. A dozen melting candles burned in every secluded corner, their little orange tongues licking the reflection of a sizable mirror that stood opposite of his large bed.
A dull metallic click broke the air, followed by Vanessa’s sputtering breath as she saw him lock the door. Her faith sealed - now caged in the lair of the beast. Reduced to his own shimmering shadow, Sherlock advanced toward her, ripping his shirt off.
Fingers biting into the wooden pole, Vanessa stared, unable to determine if it was a man or a lycan god who stood before her. Every breath made his bare torso look menacing. Under the deep dusky twilight, his muscles curved and stretched, coated by a virile, dark fur.
Curious, her gaze followed the striking veins and the trail of unkempt hair that paved its way down his fine abdomen and disappeared beneath his trousers. Guiding to that which she feared and wanted at once.
Eyes of blue flame shone with absent remorse, brows arched with a pretentious demeanour as he reached a hand to seize her to him. “Your innocence dies here tonight,” he hissed in her ear, “from now on, you’ll be my little whore to plough as I please.”
The air died in her lungs as his firm chest collided with hers and his knee forced her legs apart. Bulging and muscular, his thigh rose to brush at her clit, the thin fabrics a shy barrier.
Shuddering, she swallowed hard in a dire battle to find her voice. “I will be whatever you need me to be,” she retorted as the thought of being exploited by her master released fluttering butterflies of fear and excitement in her chest.
Sherlock smirked and captured her jaw between his finger and thumb as he leaned in. Torrid lips hovered over her own, offering a phantom kiss to distract her from the greedy fingers that pushed the sleeves of the gown off her shoulders.
Like warm milk it poured down her body, exposing her delicacies to the night and to the gluttonous hands that kneaded her breasts while he flicked his tongue over her closed mouth, tasting the plumpness of her lips.
A true creature of the underworld, Sherlock’s touch was cruel like his promises; he took as he pleased, leaving his sigil seething on her skin. Her sputtering gasps served as an opportunity to invade her hot cavern. The detective’s kiss was even more ruthless, his tongue smooth as silk seized and conquered her breath.
She could feel him streaming in her blood, tasting him all the way down through her gut. Dark and intoxicating like poisonous absinthe, the promise of death swung amidst their hot, serpent-like dance.
Yet she only yearned to drink to her demise.
As if under a stupor, she swayed to his spells, bucking her hips to ground herself on the meat of his thigh, leaving the coarse fabric wet with sticky arousal. A condescending grin tugged at his lips, and his hand rushed to the back of her head, weaving through her hair and yanking her back.
“Already the wanton harlot,” he spat, swiftly turning her over and holding her against his chest. “Look at yourself,” he growled hoarsely in her ear, forcing her doe eyes to stare at their reflection. Sherlock rested his dimpled chin on the top of her head with his brows lowered like an apex predator examining his prey.
His hand disappeared behind, hastily fumbling with his trousers, “You wanted me to show you, you want to see,” he called as his trousers piled at his feet and he carefully stepped out.
Something hefty and hard nudged at the small of her back, turning her veins into thin tendrils of ice. Abysmal panic coiled at her gut at the realisation that Sherlock meant to reshape her as the vessel of his primal urge.
Hand snaking around her belly, he snatched her to fall back onto the mattress with him pillowing her fall. Her firm buttocks slid across his hairy abdomen, hands fumbling to grasp his thick thighs while her eyes flared at the sight of his hardened cock displayed in front of her in its full generous size.
It was nothing like the medical illustrations she saw in books: bulging tendons swerved across an imposing, meaty rod. Ridges rippled across its girth like soft silk, and the heart-shaped head dripped of glistening, pearly arousal.
Curious, her trembling hand wandered to feel him, stunned by the liquid-like texture that engulfed the absurd rigidness. By order of her touch, he twitched and swelled, causing the radiating heat at the apex of her groin to palpitate.
Pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, Sherlock growled, “Do you like what you see, little one?”
His taut hands reached to grasp her thighs, spreading her wide over each of his legs and holding them apart to expose her untouched sleek at the mirror. The thundering in his throat was nothing but animalistic as he glowered at her perfect sight: his little Nessie, his little untainted flower blooming fresh with dew, yearning to be plucked.
“Look at yourself,” Sherlock demanded with a whisper drenched of fervour. His coarse hand dragged to capture her chin and forced her to face the salacious spectacle reflected before them. Her breath shuddered; she saw their skin mapped onto one another, their bodies entangled and their souls unmasked.
How could something so forbidden be so beautiful?
“I dwell in the darkness, Vanessa.” Sherlock explained, his voice stroking her temple as his lips inched closer, “You must know that, you must have me as I am.”
He laved his tongue over her cheek as if he was tasting the sweetest delicacy and reached for his erection, stroking the pulsating girth between his fingers. Eyes still glued to their likeness on the glossy surface, she glanced as he pressed his pink, meaty tip between her dripping petals.
“Watch as I take something from you that can never be given back, something that will forever belong to me.”
“Sherl….”
His name died on her tongue, the moment forever lost in a loud shriek. Savagely and unceremoniously, he pried her virginal cunt open the way a predator rips at its prey’s throat. His massive shaft tore through her purity with no resistance to fight back against his brutal invasion.  
Pain rattled its way through her entire entity while the dark spectacle of the loss of her innocence played right in front of her eyes, spurring grievous tears. Lost to the bliss of her warm cavern, Sherlock chanted in loud groans, continuing to force himself all the way between her squeezing walls. Remorseless of her cries, he never stopped until every hollow inch inside her was full of his cock and his sac smacked against her stuffed opening.
“My! You feel good!” He panted with astonishment, his virility twitching within the lush sanctuary between her thighs. Noxious pride flowed in his veins at the reflection of the naked young girl, spread open with him inside her.
“Do you like having me inside you, my little harlot?”
“God!” Vanessa screamed, stunned by the sensation of him swelling at her core. His invasion seared, her legs trembled against his in a plea to be kept together. But he only stretched her wider, hooking both hands below her thighs.
“It will feel good in a little while,” he promised and slowly shifted his hips back. Inch by inch, his cock slid out of her now defiled slit, coated by blood and a sheer layer of arousal. It was something of decadent theatrics; his broad chest puffed against her spine, a blissful hum leaving his bobbing throat at the image of the crimson stain that decorated his sword.
“From this moment and beyond, this belongs to me,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck and planting wicked, butterfly kisses along the tender slope, “do you understand? Your little cunny is my property, your moans, your pleasure, all belong to me.”
Her cunt clenched around nothing as she watched his full length slipping out, tainted by broken purity, the empty void leaving pure urgency to course through her tendons. Hopeless for something she couldn’t even recognise, she whined and writhed on top of him. Her eyes levitated from their sexes to meet his icy glare.
“Sherlock, please, more! Please put yourself back inside me!!!”
“Fuck!” Sherlock rasped in awe of her wanton, his control nearly lapsed. Fingers digging into her thighs, he undulated his hips and pulled her down the length of his throbbing erection. Low melodies of pleasure rolled on his tongue as her wet cunt pressed around him again.
Gawking at the mirror, she nearly fell apart in his arms, cries of daze escaped her as Sherlock's drove back into her sleek. Every bit of his flesh unfolding hers, disappearing within her body to defy the loneliness aching in her cove until his entire shaft was lost in her depth and the tip of his cock hit something lush and tender. She could have sworn she felt him waver deep in her gut.
“Sherlock!!!” she cried, shutting her eyes at the sharp twinge that shuddered through her core.
“Don’t you dare close those eyes, dove,” he warned, and the authority in his voice left her no choice but to obey. Wickedly, his fingers slithered to the little nub of flesh above her slit and ruthlessly tugged at it to expose more of her battered sex. He continued to pound into her mercilessly, quickening the rhythm with each one of his thrusts.
“Look at you, taking me so obediently. Perhaps I was wrong about you, perhaps you are easily tamed.”
The thick bones of his hips crashed into her rump vigorously, his girth violently splitting her protesting walls. He was fast, wet, and hard inside her, his cock drilling into her over and over, every plunge stripping more layers of her soul and pushing her higher toward the heavens.
Enslaved to the beguiling aphrodisiac, she squirmed on top of him, her body beginning to push down to meet every thrust. The vision of herself being brutally taken by the large, civilised beast made the blood pool at the seams of her womanhood and tingle with frustration.
A shuddering quake began to spread within her, spiralling out in a sequence of spasms sourced at the spot where they connected. Bliss and ecstasy shattered her body and a sudden flush of pleasure exploded through her body as she came all over his cock.
Engulfed in her milking cunt, Sherlock could hardly believe what beheld his eyes. His beautiful nymph, coming undone around him, ethereal and divine. Her blissful chants a song to his ears only, she was like dryad humming a hymn to call upon a lonesome hunter.
“‘My Vanessa, I wanted you for so long.” He called, fucking her wildly through her orgasm. “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he choked out on his grunts, her sugary walls closing around his thickness like a predatory flower, demanding to suckle his sweet elixir.
Still riding her climax, she shook her head, hesitant of speaking such profanities. But the stern glower on Sherlock’s face instantly forced her into submission.
“I want you to come … come inside me!” She panted and then screamed as another wave of intense rapture swept her away.
Her squeezing cunt forced the thick stream to vibrated through his shaft, making him drill into her with zeal. His fingers clutched her waist as he slammed her down onto his swollen cock, burying himself the deepest he could. Vanessa yipped as something hot sprouted into her, flooding her womb like a soothing kiss that slowly began trickling between their tight flesh.
Still locked in an embrace, they shivered together. Soft maple hues glimmered over their wet skin, their bodies heaving against one another while a symphony of pants and gasps filled the silence.
Sherlock’s glaciers sought to capture her reflection, a dark, brooding look on his sweat-silken face while his lips ghosted over her shoulder. There was no question in the rough expression of his face.
Nothing spoke louder than the possessiveness that pierced through the sharp reflection.
~*~
A tender stream of sunshower kissed her lids awake. The cerulean sky winked at her through the open window while her senses gingerly regained their functions after what felt like graveyard slumber. Finding herself alone, she wondered for a moment if the night before was only a fantasy; but this bed was too soft and far too large, and the sensation of shame licking between her thighs told her otherwise.
Even in his absence, Sherlock’s presence lingered. His pungent sweat layered on her skin, and from her torn seal trickled the pearly, forbidden essence of his loins. She allowed herself a moment of coy bliss, pressing her lips upon her bare shoulder to kiss the taste of him off her flesh when the thud of inching footsteps and creaking wood made her sit up with fright as if her presence was forbidden.
Huddling the blankets around her chest, she gulped as the door flung open.
Already dressed in a clean shirt, a vest of golden brown, and a long black jacket, the hulking man offered her a small wrinkle on his brow. Fine silks were folded on his forearm, and his eyes fell upon the naked beauty in his bed. A shadow of dark desire danced upon his slanted smirk as he noticed the little inkling of dry blood on the edge of the mattress.
“Slept well, my little Nessie?” He asked, passing a finger over his neatly combed locks before gesturing for her to approach him. Obedient as ever, his little servant quickly climbed out, immediately regretting her haste as a spear split through her core. With jolting legs, she swallowed her discomfort and approached him with her head lowered to the floor.
“No, we will have none of this,” Sherlock chided, his finger stalking beneath her chin to fix her stare on his. Their gazes met for a shy second and then he stepped back, unfolding the fabrics held beneath his arm.
A waterfall of black and crimson flowed down, hanging from his hands.
Vanessa’s eyes rounded with wonder; being a woman of lower status, she never owned anything as beautiful and expensive as the dress he held before her.
“Lift your arms, dove,” Sherlock commanded and she did as he bid.
The soft fabrics felt like warm liquid washing over her skin as Sherlock carefully slipped the dress over her head. His hands smoothly roamed her body, tugging at the delicate fabric to fit over her figure. The tall detective stepped to stand at her back and began working the laces of the corset embedded into the gown.
One by one, he tightened the silk binds as he pulled at the laces. Vanessa slightly hissed when her breasts squished against the generous cleavage.
“Forgive me,” Sherlock mumbled as he heard her distress, “I am not used to such… arrangements.”
“Arrangements?” she asked naively, though it quickly dawned on her that her dear master never had a wife or a mistress, which didn’t come much as a surprise after witnessing his bohemian desires the night before. And yet, no regret touched her heart as Sherlock pressed his hand over her torso and perched his chin atop her head once again.
“Look at us.” His lustrous eyes carried to the mirror, guiding hers to follow as he stroked his hand lower to flatten the folds of her dress and pushed her hair over her shoulders with the other.
“Don’t we make a pair?”
Glancing forward, Vanessa took a deep inhale. Crimson and black were unusually beautiful as they graced her figure. The rim of the cleavage was beaded with fine black jewels that gave her appearance an elegant, yet erotic flavour.
Taken by her new design, she allowed herself to be swallowed into Sherlock’s beautiful darkness.
She wouldn’t have him without it.
___________________________________
Additional notes: I don’t own Sherlock Holmes or Enola Holmes franchise. Thanks to @wondersofdreaming  @wolvesandhoundshowltogether and @sapphirescrolls for moral support. 
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bogusavathepit · 2 years ago
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House of the Dragon: Predictions about Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Nettles
!!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!!
So, I’ve taken to reading Fire and Blood (the fictional historical text written by a maester called Gyldayn), which chronicles the Targaryen dynasty from before Aegon I’s conquest to Aegon III’s ascension. Thinking about Rhaenyra and Daemon and Nettles, I wondered how the show would portray what happened between them all. 
But did you know about Grand Maester Munkun’s own writings that detailed all the events after Alicent and Otto gathered the “green council“ when Viserys dies?
As some know, Fire and Blood is supposed to be a text that draws from several sources, mainly two: a septon/priest called Septon Eustace and the dwarf fool Mushroom. 
The first was the confessor/confidant for Viserys, Alicent, and Aemma while working in the Red Keep’s sept, while Mushroom entertained Viserys and Rhaenyra and stayed by Rhaenyra’s side for most of the events of the Dance of Dragons, even entertaining Aegon II and Aegon III later on.
The Possibilities as to Where I Think the Show Will Go with This
Daemon and Nettles actually do have an affair, despite him being canonically 49 and her 17 at this moment. I imagine they grow closer by Daemon being impressed by Nettles’ self reliance and ability to claim her dragon, Sheepstealer even with her neglible lineage. He’s grown distant from Rhaenyra and her getting more cold due to the recent betrayals, the deaths of her sons, her stillborn daughter, and other current trouble at King’s Landing. He takes to showing Nettles the finer things of his own living and the two hit it off. Perhaps he is also impressed with her position as being the least-looking Dragonseed (Valyrian bastard) making her the outcast amongst outcasts. He’s the black sheep of his family. And she’s pleased someone so prestigious, handsome, daring, etc has an interest in her. With how physically unattractive and nonvirginal she’s painted, she might not have experienced someone openly showing attraction for her. (Daemon likes pretty women both in the show and the book; he likes pretty women and is reputed to like virgins best in the book, at least in his youth.)  The attention’s alluring, despite it’s ill-advised condition (or perhaps a little because of it?).
They don’t have an affair and it takes a while for Daemon and Nettles to grow as close as they do. They happen to grow very close due to their long hours alone flying around to find Aemond and Vhagar. Daemon’s still being impressed by Nettles and Nettles by him in return. However, in this scenario he sees his physically-emotionally absent daughters Baela and Rhaena in Nettles and wishes to act out what he couldn’t with his own daughters on Nettles. (It could still be sexual or erotic, but there’s a chance it never goes past the weird baths.) Nettles may see a father figure in Daemon, something she’s never had and takes the chance to experience now. Plus, she’d still likely be surprised pleased someone so like Daemon has any sort of interest in her.
They don’t have an affair and it goes like scenario 2, except he and Nettles have been developing a relationship while both are in King’s Landing and while Daemon’s sleeping with Mysaria. That darker-skinned girl who brought the Cargyll twins/Otto to Mysaria before Otto burned Mysaria’s home is very likely Nettles and Fire and Blood has them all in King’s Landing together. While Nettles is supposed to be near Dragonstone to claim Sheepstealer before going to King’s Landing, the show might have Nettles travel to Dragonstone somehow, claim Sheepstealer, and come back. Mysaria may see Nettles getting along with Daemon, or have sent Nettles to him/Dragonstone. Mysaria may or may not get pissed at the perceived betrayal of Nettles, and it may not even be totally because she suspects them together so much as Nettles is not going to be willing enough to do her bidding, or Mysaria may see her as compromised and aligning herself with the same nobles who ruin the smallfolk’s (including her own) lives on the daily. So she goes to Rhaenyra (or contently twists the truth to her when summoned). Or Mysaria sows the seeds by bringing up the other dragonriders’ betrayal. It wouldn’t be the first time showrunner and TV writers changed plot details to suit their vision.
They do have the affair and and it goes like scenario 1, with scenario 3′s Mysaria/back-and-forth events described. More of a chance Mysaria is actually put out by the sexual relationship, but still motivated more by how much she can and can’t use Nettles in light of Nettles getting closer with Daemon. Mysaria might be a bit more happy twisting the truth, etc.
What Happened...As Recorded in Fire and Blood
[Paraphrase] When Rhaenyra finally took King’s Landing, two of her fighters/dragonriders betrayed her and she began to suspect another two after others in her council expressed their doubts. She called for one’s arrest and the other’s head. 
The last one was Nettles, a 17 year old dragonriding girl who was apparently not pretty, brown haired & skinned--didn’t have any of the classic Valyrian features. Nettles and Daemon were off trying to find Aemond to stop him from burning up a section of the realm, and Mysaria (Daemon’s lover and current spy mistress) affirmed that Daemon and Nettles were getting it on while looking for Aemond (491).
(Septon Eustace is the one Gyldayn relies on here.)
In response, Rhaenyra (though reportedly fine with Daemon sleeping with Mysaria while he was at King’s Landing) announced that Nettles enchanted Daemon and had to be killed. The Rationale: Daemon wasn’t at fault but was untrustworthy, being under Nettles’ spell. She sent the lord hosting them a message to kill Nettle and not to harm Daemon.
That lord’s maester, Maester Norren, wrote:
...‘the prince and his bastard girl‘ supped together every night, broke their fast together every morning, slept in adjoining bedchambers, that the prince ‘doted upon the brown girl as a man might dote upon his daughter,‘ instructing her in ‘common courtesies’ and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts to her...The prince taught the girl to wash...and the maidservants...said that he oft shared a tub with her, ‘soaping her back or washing the dragon stink from her hair, both of them naked as their namedays’ (487).
And when Norren told Daemon about the secret order, Daemon’s reaction:
...as he read, I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said, ‘A queen’s words, a whore’s work.’ (498)
And the next day Daemon and Nettles separated, Nettles never seen by any noble ever again.
Context
Gyldayn says this of how much and the quality of the information of the Dance of Dragons the maesters have at the moment of him writing:
...for much of what happened in the years that followed happened behind closed doors, in the privacy of stairwells, council rooms, and the bedchambers, and the full truth of it will likely never be known. We have of course, the chronicles laid down by Grand Maester Runciter...and many a court document as well, all the royal decrees and proclamations, but these tell only a small part of the story. For the rest, we must look to accounts written decades later by the children and grandchildren of those caught up in the events of these times...; third-hand recollections of aged serving men relating scandals of their youth. While these are undoubtedly of use, so much time has passed between the event and the recording that many confusions and contradictions have inevitably crept in (355-356).
There was still one other cited source, Grand Maester Munkun, who writes drawing from Grand Maester Orwyle’s confessions after Rheanyra imprisons him.
The Sources
[Septon Eustace]
...set down the most detailed history of this period (356).
Nor was he reticent about recording even the most shocking and salacious rumors and accusations, though the bulk of...[his text]...remains a sober and somewhat ponderous history (356).
[Mushroom]
...was thought feeble-minded, so kings and lords and princes did not scruple to hide their secrets from him (356).
Whereas Septon Eustace records the secrets of bedchamber and brothel in hushed, condemnatory tones, Mushroom delights in the same, and his Testimony consists of little but ribald tales and gossip, piling stabbings, poisonings betrayals, seductions, and debaucheries one atop the other (356).
Gyldayn says of these two and their value: 
Septon Eustace and Mushroom do not always agree upon particulars and at times their accounts are considerably at variance with one another, and with court records and the chronicles of Grand Maester Runciter and his successors (357).
[Grand Maester Munkun/Grand Maester Orwyle]
Though Munkun’s exhaustive history was not written until a generation later, and drew on many different sorts of materials...his account of the inner workings of the court relies upon the confessions of Grand Maester Orwyle, as set down before his execution...[Orwyle] was present at the [greens’] meeting and took part in the council’s deliberations and decisions......though it must be known that at the time he wrote, Orwyle was most anxious to show himself in a favorable light and absolve himself of any blame for what was to follow (393). 
Separate Note: While Fire and Blood is narrated by a person who is recording the Dance of Dragons events second/third hand and from sources that sometimes contradict each other, this doesn't mean that sources used have credibility. The devil's in the details and some more time thinking.
What do you Think?
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mrslilyrogers · 4 years ago
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All I have to do is Dream Part 3
Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)
Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.
Author’s notes: This is late and not as long as I hoped it would be but hope you all enjoy! There might be one more part left to this series and maybe an epilogue. 
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Eight voicemails and twelve messages. Eight voicemails and twelve messages from the person you wanted to talk to the most. Everyday for the past few weeks since you left, he called. And everyday your hands itched to reach out and call back but you stopped yourself. 
“I love her!” 
His voice echoed in your head. Enough was enough. Your fingers kneaded your temples, trying to alleviate the headache forming there. It didn’t help that there was a dark gnawing feeling in your gut, something was wrong. You knew it. A sixth sense, if you will. It happened the first time your powers manifested. You had been eight then, in front of the television with your dad when suddenly, your heart started to beat faster, your breaths coming in short pants, and your forehead dotted in sweats; a strong sense of foreboding crept under your skin and ever since then, life had never been the same. 
That night, you slept in a restless slumber; trapped under a heavy spell while you watched your father as a young boy. You had no idea how you knew the man who carried you over his shoulders, who seemed so strong and indestructible to your child’s eyes, was this same little boy you watched. You couldn’t understand it, you were dreaming but it was so real. Every detail as crisp as if you had been there and witnessed it. It wasn’t long before it all changed, everything before you cast in a darker shade, the people around you in black, sliding apologetic glances towards the somber boy standing in between his grandparents. You started to break out in a cold sweat, you were at a funeral. The boy’s parents, your father’s parents, just died. You ran, screaming, your heart racing, trying to find a way to get out. You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t. But the more frantic you became, the more everything jumbled, bringing out his worst fears and nightmares and all you could do was scream, helpless and trapped. 
Oddly enough, that was how you felt now. Despite leaving Steve for the sake of the both of you, you were trapped, helpless to the niggling thought at the back of your mind that something was about to go horribly wrong. You tried to remember everything Xavier Institute has taught you, you were a telepath and with it came a natural intuition you couldn’t ignore. A heightened sense of empathy and awareness. 
You understood people even when they barely gave you a chance to be understood. You still remembered all those times people ran away from you. Those you considered your closest friends, even your teachers, treated you as if you were the plague. Their thoughts filled with dread and terror while you desperately tried to explain yourself but the more agitated you became, the more you lost control. It gave you no other choice but to distance yourself from them, getting homeschooled and keeping to yourself as much as you could. Your father tried his best, you knew he did but he could never look at you the same way. You didn’t have to get into his head to hear his cries at night, worrying and wondering where he went wrong.
It wasn’t long before Professor X found you and invited you to join his school for the gifted. School for the gifted. There was a time you couldn’t say that without a roll to your eyes, how could it have been a gift when all it ever caused you was sorrow? The day it was finally time for you to leave the only home you’ve ever known, your father’s relief was palpable in the air. He never gave voice to it and instead promised to visit as often as he could but even then, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. He visited you less and less as time went on until your relationship was reduced to a couple of phone calls barely lasting five minutes long. 
That was why you learned never to get too close. You owed to the X-Men who you were today. They had given you a place to call home, somewhere to belong to. For all the years you spent at the institute, they were nothing but kind to you, encouraging you, helping you hone your abilities and to cope with the loss of your former life. They gave you a fresh start, a new family and it should’ve been enough and in some ways, it is. But there was always a part of yourself you couldn’t give no matter how hard you tried and so the moment you could leave, you left. You wandered on your own, occasionally coming back to visit and catch up before leaving again, never planting any roots. That was the way you wanted it, that way you could never get hurt. 
Until Steve.
He instantly broke down your defenses and what was supposed to be a one-timer mission turned longer than you would’ve ever dreamed. You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t stay with the Avengers because of him. The truth was as much as staying with them was fulfilling, there was a part of him that called out to you. You understood him, a man out of his time. Out of place. All you’ve ever felt your whole life. His loneliness drew you to him like a moth to a flame. He never showed it, too proud to admit it to himself but you knew it the instant you met him. He was untethered, burdened to continue on in a world he didn’t belong in. Your heart ached for him, for a man so lost that he only ever felt alive when he was at war. You tried to help him see the world with color again. “Ironic, coming from you,” you thought to yourself. But the more time you spent with him, the more your cynicism chipped away bit by bit until you became closer to the person you were before your abilities. Free to dream and love as you should’ve been. It was as if you needed him as much as he needed you. 
“Would you like a refill for that, honey?” the kindly old waitress asked, jerking you out of your reverie, her wrinkled face etched into a pitying smile. You shook your head and gave her your thanks, the dread in your chest intensifying once more. 
Look at where you are now, back to square one. 
You huffed at the tiny voice inside your head. She was right. Here you were, sat on a dingy couch at a diner in the middle of nowhere running from the people you loved the most. You looked at your phone again, the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach screaming at you to do something. You should at least call Nat, you thought to yourself. You’d been planning to call her anyway even though you always chickened out. That seemed the safest thing to do for your sanity, make sure they were alright then you’d be on your merry way again. It was the only way to calm your racing heart, to get rid of that sense of foreboding creeping up at you and pulling you down. You could just be anxious, right? Guilt and shame of leaving plaguing you before you could truly move on. After that phone call, everything will be put back to rights. You’ll feel better, you keep telling yourself. Only your mind wouldn’t listen. 
The ringing on the other end of the line kept you on edge and when Nat’s worried voice greeted you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 
“Y/N! Where the hell have you been? Steve has been looking everywhere for you! Do you know how worried we’ve been?”
You could hear the hurt in her tone and your heart broke at how you’d left things with your friend, completely forgetting about how she’d react when you impulsively decided to run away. But they were safe. At least, they were safe. Tears pricked at your eyes, you had no idea just how desperate you’ve become to hear her voice on the line, to know that nothing had happened in your absence and the stress of these past few weeks have just been taking its toll.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nat--” you broke off, your voice cracking from trying not to cry. 
“I shouldn’t have left the way I did but it was just too much, I had to leave. I couldn’t stay, not after everything that happened,” you continued, sniffing through it, willing yourself not to break down to your best friend on the phone in the middle of a busy diner.
“I know, sweetie. Steve told me all about it.” She sighed, sounding tired, before continuing, “You know I will never pick any sides right? I’ll support whatever you decide.” 
“Thanks, Nat. I knew you would, I never doubted you. It’s just… it’s been a lot to take in and I can’t… I don’t know how to face him if…” you trailed off, not having the courage to continue what you knew all along. It was one thing to admit it to yourself but another to say it out loud to another person. It made it more real. More final. You picked at the hem of your shirt, shaking your head. It was as if Nat knew what you were thinking, she gave another sigh on the other end of the line.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it now. But Y/N, he really does love you. He hasn’t been the same since you left and--” she immediately cut herself off as if she was about to say something she shouldn’t. You didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath before she continued, “You should really talk to him, Y/N.” 
“Nat, what’s going on? Are you guys alright?”
You felt goosebumps on your flesh. Rubbing your free hand on your thigh, you tried to calm your racing nerves.
“No, no, we’re fine. Don’t worry--” she replied instantaneously, reassuring you but before she could continue, you cut her off, relief washing over you. 
“Good. That’s good. Cause for a while there, I thought you were gonna say something crazy. I’ve just been having this weird feeling that something big is going to happen. But I’m probably just being anxious. Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“You really do have that scary clairvoyant thing going on sometimes,” you heard her laugh at you, teasing, but before you could say anything else, she turned serious, 
“Y/N, we’re gonna try to bring everyone back,” her voice was filled with hope and determination that it made you pause, your brain struggling to keep up. 
What? Did you hear her right? 
She started to explain their plan but your mind was already spinning. You immediately left the booth, slapping a ten dollar bill on the table. Your frantic steps heading into the direction of your car parked outside.
“Nat, Nat, hold on. What do you mean you’re leaving? Traveling through time? Is that even possible?” You slammed the door on your car, your voice hushed as if scared to even wonder, heart beating rapidly in your chest. 
If she really meant what you think she meant then they were all going to risk their lives for an attempt to bring everyone back. But who knew if it would even work? What if they got lost? What if they never came back? You didn’t give yourself a moment to hope. This was too dangerous. Too quick and impulsive. You needed to talk to Steve.
Before Nat could reply, you heard him call her in the background, his voice authoritative and resolute. They were ready. They were going to leave now. 
“Nat, let me talk to him,” you heard yourself say without preamble. There was no need to think it through, it didn’t matter if he hated you, if he wanted nothing to do with you, you just had to talk to him. 
“Who’s that?” You could hear him ask in the background, his voice far, his footsteps approaching. 
The moment he realized who was on the other line, the moment he saw your picture flash on his friend’s screen, his hand shot out frantically for it, scared you’d leave before he even got a chance to hear your voice. 
“Y/N?” he asked softly, worried you might suddenly end the call. You could almost see the look on his face, eyebrows furrowed, eyes searching and concerned. 
“Steve,” All the emotions you felt carried out in a single name. Regret, shame, longing. That was all it took before you broke down into tears. If you hadn’t called Nat, if you had let even one more day pass by, your last fight could’ve been the last time you ever saw him. 
“Is everything alright? What happened? Are you okay?” he was suddenly alert, voice booming with concern and just a little bit of panic. 
“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Nat told me everything. Are you leaving already? What’s going on?” you managed to choke out, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You heard him let out a sigh of relief on the other end. 
“Oh, doll. Don’t worry about us. It’ll be alright. We’ve got it under control, I promise,” he sounded so sure of himself, his voice so soothing, almost as if he were caressing your back like he usually does to reassure you. You heard his footsteps again and the closing of a door, you assumed he looked for a place more private, quiet. This time, you wouldn’t easily let up. 
“You can’t promise that, Steve. Let me come with you,” you pleaded, exasperation in your tone. You surprised even yourself, your hands already frantically moving to drive.  You had no idea what came over you, had no idea what you were even really getting into. All you knew was that no matter where you stood in your relationship, you’ve been through so much together, you couldn’t let him face this alone. 
“No. Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous, Y/N. Just stay where you are and I’ll come find you when all this is over,” his voice brooked no argument. You could already tell how he looked like, his head shaking vehemently, feet braced apart, eyes flashing with determination. 
“Steve--” you started, voice rising in return but he immediately cut you off. 
“Y/N, listen to me. I don’t have much time but please, just this once, promise me you’ll stay where you are. Keep yourself safe until I come find you--”
“No way am I--” you spoke over him, your patience wearing thin, panic rising in your throat. 
“Y/N, let me finish. Doll, I don’t have much time. We’ve already ran simulations and this works. We’re gonna get them all back but I can’t do that if I think you’re in trouble so please, baby, just promise me you’ll stay put. It’ll only be a minute for you. Just stay where you are, please. I can’t lose you, love.” his voice verged on desperation, making you pause. 
“I know I’ve said some things I can’t take back and god, do I fucking regret them every single day since you left but I love you. And if this fails and I don’t come back, I need to know you’re at least safe. I need you to promise me that,”
“Steve, don’t… don’t talk like that,” you shook your head, not acknowledging what he was saying. This was unfair. Steve was never one to be pessimistic, he never showed any vulnerability before a mission and the fact that he did now made your heart ache. He had one goal and one goal only, he wanted to right what he perceived to be his wrong. He was going into this fully prepared to give his life to get everyone back. But for you, the stakes were too high. Who knew the dangers of what the past held? What if something happens that would keep him there? 
“Love, please. We’re leaving soon,”
You let out a huge breath. “Just promise me you’ll be back?” 
You could almost hear the smile on his face, could almost see his shoulders sag with relief. 
“Then promise me, you’d stop driving while on the phone,” he joked, trying to make light of the situation. He knew how you could get when you excessively worried about him. He didn’t even realize how much he loved it until now that your fussing was reduced to a phone call. 
“Steve, I mean it,” you warned seriously. 
“When have I ever backed down from a fight? And this is just an extraction mission. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” his voice sounded so calming, you almost believed it. 
Despite his downplaying, you knew the risks. Time travel? Who could even say they’ve thought this would be possible even in their wildest dreams?
“I’ve gotta go, sweetheart. I love you. I’ll come to you as soon as all this is over,” you heard the scuffle of feet in the background, heard F.R.I.D.A.Y calling out to him, and suddenly, you didn’t have enough time. You had so much to say, so much to apologize for.
“Steve, wait--” you started desperately, ready to beg for forgiveness. 
“Don’t.” he cut you off quickly as if already knowing the direction you were heading in. 
“There’s no need, doll. I love you, we’ll make this work. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make it work,”
He sounded so sincere, so forgiving that it made your lips tremble into a soft smile.
“I love you too, Steve. I’ll see you guys in a minute,” you replied, trying to sound as lighthearted as you could when you heard Nat scream it to you in the background. You didn’t want to psyche him out with your worry. This was the mission of his lifetime, everyone depended on him. 
You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in your gut, the fear crawling up your veins. 
Something is about to go wrong. 
Steve chuckled, finally feeling a weight being lifted off his chest, finally able to hope again. This was the future he looked forward to. 
“We’ll see you in a minute, baby,”  
You hoped to God you would. 
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Author’s notes: This was tough to write since everything happens through a phone call. I tried to capture the tension of the situation through that and hope I did. As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! 
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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 years ago
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Dragons’ Biggest Treasure
Yandere dragon shifter erasermic x reader
Fantasy AU
Here’s a long one for you guys! (10k) FINALLY WROTE A FIC AGAIN! YAY!(hahaha I’m so exhausted)
Warnings: Swearing, graphic fights and scenes, multiple character deaths (not EraserMic or reader), harm towards reader (again, not by EraserMic. Well, mostly), burn mentions (with dragons it’s gonna happen), and a handful of times about eardrums bursting (the harm towards reader by EraserMic). As well as dragon abuse. This does have much darker stuff than I usually write. Also a slow start for the yandere stuff. Pretty happy with the details in it. Hope you guys like it!
dragonerasermicdragonerasermicdragonerasermicdragon- *gets smacked*
These two as yandere dragons will now forever rot in my head. Hng, why have I not thought of it sooner!? Just THINKING of them as yandere dragons makes brain go brrr. Obviously going to write them as yandere dragon shifters again at some point. More than once too.
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I’m close to the entrance gates to the kingdom ruled by a man that calls himself All For One. No one knows his real name. He’s a sick bastard that no one wants to be around, but no one can do anything since he’s a lot smarter than he looks with that damn mask over his head. My job by him is to heal dragons after their fights he forces them into, like the most recent one who is incredibly injured in front of me. He likes them by the entrance to torture them with the taste of freedom they will never get from the enchanted chains wrapped all over them. 
While using my natural healing abilities that are actually a pretty rare thing, there is a commotion over towards the gates. The large metal doors open to reveal many men on horses and even a few on their feet holding ropes, pulling something large behind them. I sadly already know what’s being brought in. A saddened sigh escapes me at the sight of two new dragons that are heavily wounded being dragged in through the gates at the end of the ropes. More dragons that are bound to reach their unfortunate fate until they die. 
Looking a bit closer, there are arrows sticking out of the two of them, and blood trailing on the ground. Both of their bodies are black, but one has everything black but a grey underbelly. Instead of spines, it has a feather-like long mane that is also black. The skin on their wings matches the grey of their underbelly. It’s impossible to know the eye color since they’re asleep for the moment. 
The other quite possibly has the largest yellow spines I have ever seen. The same with his horns, they’re curved upwards at a slight angle. Their underbelly, as well as their wings match the color of the spines and horns. There are odd scales around their eyes with orange closer to the center, and a white outer rim, almost like it’s wearing sunglasses. 
The dragon I was tending to just curls itself as much as it can away from me after healing it a small amount. I was ordered to only heal them enough for their wounds to not need stitching so they will still be rather weak to even try escaping. Why he would need enchanted chains then I have absolutely no clue. He takes a sick pleasure in his favorite dragons having such an advantage in the arena. 
I lock eyes with Masura who gives me a giant sadistic smile in return. He enjoys hurting dragons way too much. A few have even ended up dying on the way here from wherever he and the others keep finding them. 
“Brought some fresh meat for you to take care of. These two put up an incredible fight. Can’t wait to see what they will do in the arena.” 
He and the others go to the line of chains near me and hook them all over the two dragons, including the specially created muzzle. Specially created by it having holes so they can dip their snout in the trough of water and get it in that way, and fire can’t get through. Feeding is still a bit of a problem though. Especially since I’m stuck being in charge of that as well. So many times being bitten or burned from having to remove it for that time. 
I gently rub the scarred burn on my right forearm from a problem with an incredibly feisty and almost explosive yellow dragon before. Miraculously, he was the first and only dragon to escape alive. Then again, it was the turn of a different caretaker that night who ended up sentenced to death for it. 
They quickly leave to let me tend to the injured duo. I sigh and quickly finish up the one in front of me with a rather large wound on its right hind leg. The bucket of healing water I enchanted helped the wound close up to a point. It can sadly easily be ripped open, which it obviously will tomorrow in its next fight. I would love nothing more than to be able to heal them better than I have to. There are serious consequences if it’s found out I did though. Emi was proof of that. Despite her joking personality, she really cared for the dragons. That was her downfall when a dragon was healed too much and almost overpowered one of All For One’s most prided dragons. Can’t remember which, but I’m pretty sure it was the female dragon named “Toga”. She- no. Don’t think about Emi’s final screams of pain. 
I scan over the two dragons to see who is worse off. By far it seems to be the black one with the mane instead of spines. The most concerning is the arrow that seems to be in one of its lungs. It’s going to die if I don’t do something. I don’t want it to die so soon. Well, I do, yet I don’t. Do just so they don’t have to suffer fighting in battles, but don’t since they have such a long life to live yet. I just wish they’d be able to really be free after being caught. 
Damn it, I might get into so much trouble for this… 
A bright green glow comes from my hands as I wrap one around the arrow and one on its underside right next to the arrow. A quick and firm tug is able to get it out. I quickly enhance my healing power further to fully heal this one wound. 
Not even a scar is left behind. Hopefully, they forgot the arrow was around there when they brought the dragons. I lean on the wall to steel my groundings from being exhausted from it. Ugh, it’s been too long since I’ve done that. My body is no longer used to my own powers. How sad. I’m the only one known for being born with such power. Emi was gifted it by enchantment by All For One. How he has the power to do that no one wants to know. We all just know he does, and he gets whatever he wants since no one can stop him. 
After collecting myself for a moment, I scan the rest of their injuries and find out both of them are male. The maned one has more slashes on him than arrows, but the other has an incredible amount of arrows. Luckily, none of them are in vital places though. 
The already reddened bucket shows it doesn’t have much more healing capabilities. I’m going to have to get a new one for healing. As long as it’s clear, the water covers the rag in a way it can close wounds. It’s an odd thing that somehow works and helps the healer keep more of their energy. 
I decide to leave for a minute and refill the bucket. After dumping out the blood water, I refill it from the rather clean river that runs through this place. Using my healing ability, I stick my hand in the fresh freezing water and stir it around to leave a green glow for a moment. It will quickly warm up in this rather hot weather. 
I go towards the two again to finish up their wounds. What surprises me is both have already woken up and are glaring at me greatly upon entrance. The maned one has the most piercing steel-white-like eyes I’ve ever seen. The other has bright green with an odd circle swirl in them I’ve never seen before. Have to say they almost seem a bit hypnotic. 
The wonder doesn’t last long though as the green-eyed one lets out a noise that greatly hurts my ears. With that sound and this close proximity, my eardrums more likely than not just burst with the severe pain that came with it. A few tears threaten to escape with a pain I’m not used to.
The mask wasn’t made for dragons with a sound ability! We’ve never had one of these! Why didn’t Masura warn me!? Or more importantly, how wasn’t he heard before being dragged here with how loud he is!?
With my hands instinctively on my ears to try preventing it from bursting my eardrums again though it would be useless, All For One enters right after. Out of nowhere he summons another enchanted chain that wraps around his snout, preventing him from doing the same… Screaming? Shouting? Whatever that ability is to be used again. 
He waits for a minute for me to heal my eardrums before attempting to speak to me. 
I nearly start shaking as his head turns towards the non-wound area on the maned one. Masura must have informed him or slipped up talking about it. 
Quick, I have to save my own skin! “I had to remove the arrow and fully heal it, otherwise it would have died from the arrow puncturing its lung, as you most likely knew already. I understand that’s no worry for you, but it would have been rather annoying if he died before being in even one fight to watch, right?” Oh please tell me that works! 
A dead silence looms for a second before All For One turns towards me and gives me a curt nod. I almost heaved a sigh of relief. Almost being the key word. I held it in to make sure it wouldn’t annoy him. Probably wouldn’t, but it’s safer to not take a chance. 
He creates another muzzle that’s more fitting for this dragon. He removes the chain around the snout and puts it on before he can get snapped at, or possibly screamed at? By said dragon. The belt part is wrapped rather tightly around his snout, making it look impossible for him to even move his jaw. At least the other has a bit of loose room for it to open ever so slightly so it doesn’t become stiff. That one is going to be a lot harder to take off for feeding them.
As if All For One could read my thoughts, which is terrifying to think, he glances at me. "You have a healing ability. If it screams with the muzzle removed, heal yourself. Don’t disappoint me." He then walks off. Probably to his dragons that he treats like gods to keep them loyal to him. Even one of them being obsessed with blood getting a human a week to feast upon. Usually, it’s prisoners that have tried to kill All For One or “dragon liberators” that caught wind of how he treats most of the dragons and tried to free them. Obviously with no succession. 
I let out the unknown breath being held. Man, he’s terrifying and can suffocate someone by just his presence alone. The maned one looked almost worried at the other one while he almost seemed to be panicking with the tight muzzle around his snout. Can’t blame him. Imagine being in something similar. I’d be scared too. 
His glance shifted from the still-panicking dragon towards me, glaring ten times worse than before. I sigh. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want you two to be here anymore than you do.” Can dragons even understand human speech? The explosive one that burned me before almost seemed like he did, but maybe it was just my imagination. The other turns towards me and tries to scream, or whatever it is again with no succession. Makes me wonder if he hasn’t had a similar experience somehow in the past. Ugh, thinking of that just makes me feel worse. Finally free only to be dragged back to somewhere that will probably be worse. 
Saying “probably” because there are no branding marks or dents in their wrists from ropes that are usually on dragons from other places.
They’re probably already going to be fighting in the arena tomorrow. Thinking about that reminds me of how exhausted I am from healing the maned one. It’s going to be good for them to get names tomorrow in the arena. Already tired of trying to think of what to call them separately. 
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I was right. Miraculously, All For One wanted it to be the last fight of the day involving those two. He wants me to be there to take off the loud one’s muzzle for every fight now and in the future. Starting to hate my healing ability now. 
The chains are still wrapped around the two, and they’re led into different stalls for the arena. Of course, I was left alone with the loud one. Don’t know how that could POSSIBLY go wrong. Note the sarcasm. At least All For One was able to make it where the chains are held on the sturdy walls until he can let them leave. His sound should be plenty enough signal for All For One to release him. 
He looks at me as I reach up to take the muzzle off. He stays quiet for a moment once it’s off, moving his more than likely stiff jaw around. There’s already a slight dent around his snout and jaw. 
I shake my head disappointedly. “This is beyond fucking inhumane.” Leaving him waiting, my body goes towards the doors in front of him and opens them. They lead into the arena, which has a net high up in the air so dragons can’t fly away. Not like they could anyway with how fast All For One can summon chains to drag them to the ground. 
The peace wasn’t kept long though as he uses his ability again. The chains snapped free off of him and he immediately charged out into the arena, where the other already was. Wait, he’s having double dragon fights? That’s new. He’s never done that before. On the other side of the arena, The wounded one from yesterday and a very feisty solid white one were on the other side. The white one looked like it was too eager to try to kill. The two closer to me were more on edge and almost seem like they really don’t want to fight the other two. 
They didn’t get the chance to reject though as the white one immediately lunges towards them. They separate and dodge out of the way of it. It keeps snapping and blowing ice towards the maned one. He slams his front claws on the snout of it to prevent the ice from freezing him or the other. He screams at the ice dragon. It’s not as loud as it was when he yelled at me yesterday. 
It’s almost as if… They’re more humane? This doesn’t make sense. Dragons are usually down to fight to the death, even when not healed much. At least, that’s what seemed to be until these two. 
I look towards the other one who doesn’t seem to want to fight, but it knows as well as I this fight will go on until at least one dies. 
As the two new dragons kept easily dodging and not striking too hard back, the crowd watching are not too happy with the lack of injuries. Some booing, and others even attempting to throw their held items like food at the dragons. The loud one snaps and uses his ability towards the crowd, almost or possibly even louder than yesterday. At least that shut them up. 
I lean against the right door and snicker. “Serves them right.” For a quick second, the loud one turns his head towards me. There’s no way he could have heard me, right? Especially with that ability. Or maybe his body was born with being able to stand it? Super hearing yet super loud yelling doesn’t make sense to have though. Dragons are incredibly strange in the ways their bodies work. It’s also quite possible to just be thinking too much. 
Fuck it, don’t think too much about that. 
The wounded one from yesterday half-heartedly swipes at the maned one.  Even he seems to notice the odd behavior of the wounded dragon. Then again, three out of the four are acting a way I’ve never seen before. I look up towards the “throne” All For One has. He’s shaking his head and points towards the other side of the arena. The male with glasses sitting next to him nods and lifts one of the levers next to him. 
Oh no. Not already. 
Two familiar dragons exit the cell they were comfortably kept in. They’re not his top ones, but still get the job done in killing dragons when given the chance. He calls them Spinner and… I think the other was Moon something if remembered correctly. He’s not used as often as others, so his name isn’t exactly remembered. Calling him Moon is enough for me. 
The crowd goes wild for the two. They know things get messy when Moon gets let out because of his freakish weird teeth ability. And… How he eats parts of dragons he kills. 
In speaking of killing, immediately those two go for the kill. The wounded one didn’t stand a chance and had its neck snapped instantly by Spinner. Moon something lashes its teeth out and almost punctures the ice dragon. 
Just watching the moon one move is quite unnerving. He’s so insanely fast and agile. Still wondering why he’s basically bound in a way. Then again, he’s at least twice as unhinged as Toga. I fear how fast he might be if he wasn’t bound. 
In the blink of an eye, these two were much more defensive as the teeth blades went to strike them again. The ice dragon stopped going for them, and tries going after Moon Something. Ugh, what was that something? MoonFresh? No. MoonFlesh? I don’t think so. 
He makes his teeth curve like a hook and tries again towards the ice dragon. It dodges again. Wait, hook… Fishing… MoonFish! That’s what it was! 
I feel like slapping myself stupid for forgetting that. 
Spinner jumps onto the wall and tries to use that to sneak up on the loud one. It doesn’t work as he was focused on Spinner as soon as the two new ones entered. He moves out of the way and instead of screaming, screeches this time. It’s much higher and worse than any sound he’s made yet. The maned one doesn’t even flinch, but the other three definitely do. Spinner was right beside the loud one. He recoils in obvious pain and stands there shaking his head. 
It hurt my ears as well, but this time it didn’t make them burst, surprisingly. I don’t think the same could be said for Spinner. They have internal ears, so I’m not exactly sure if they burst, or whatever it is their species’ ears do. 
I look up to see All For One leaning a bit forward in his chair, now taking slight interest. Moonfish recovers incredibly quickly and lunges his teeth again. This time it punctures right through the ice dragon’s chest as they did a final ice breath. At the same time, a few land on the other two, causing some decently deep cuts. The ice breath freezes the rest of MoonFish’s body. 
The maned one wastes no time in swiping his tail towards the frozen body, shattering it upon impact. 
The crowd goes eerily quiet. Looking at All For One, he remains indifferent. It’s too hard to tell his emotions about what just happened. Spinner tries again to sneak behind the two and breathe his fire. The two seem so focused on the death of three dragons in one fight. Are they not used to it? 
They still haven’t noticed Spinner on the wall. At least I thought. The loud one instantly turns and rears onto his back legs and slams Spinner onto the ground with an almost punch-like move of his right talon. 
Before anything can be done, these two are chained again. The loud one being yanked off of Spinner, who instantly retreats back towards the open gate he came from. I’m honestly a little disappointed he wasn’t finished off as well. 
I sigh and go towards the stalls again, preparing to heal them. An already created healing bucket sitting in the same spot I used for them yesterday. 
It doesn’t take long for the two to be dragged in again by Masura and the bunch of… well, meatheads to say the least. I swear none of them even think half the time about anything. The two are definitely fighting and struggling with the men. 
The loud one goes to use his ability again. “Pipe down you overgrown lizard!” Masura punches the dragon in the jaw as hard as he can. It makes a sickening “crack” noise. 
The maned one gets pissed and starts snapping at him as well. The only reason I can think of why he’d do that is he knows the other one. Why didn’t I make the connection sooner? These two must know each other! 
Masura rolls his eye at them. So glad some good dragons before were able to take out one of his eyes. If only they could have taken out both. The chains get put where they were before, making the two unable to move much again. 
I’d put the muzzle on the loud one, but with his now broken or dislocated jaw it wouldn’t be the best and needs to be healed first. I can tell Masura is itching to punch one of them again. 
He stands there and smirks with his arms crossed as I dip the rag into the bucket. The loud one’s jaw is first. That’s now by far the most concerning injury. Looking a bit closer, it is definitely dislocated. I shake my head in disapproval at Masura while remaining eye contact with the dragon. It almost feels like he’s able to read me. “Did you seriously have to dislocate his jaw?” 
“Heh, the damn thing deserved it for trying to use their voice at me,” I roll my eyes at his comment. Of fucking course he’d try to use his ability. We kidnapped, or more like dragonnapped him and are forcing him to fight other dragons. I’d use anything I could too. “Not everyone has a goody-perfect healing thing like you either,” he continued. 
I shrug, then gently try to grab his lower jaw to try setting it back in place. “I’d just have to heal your sorry ass.” 
“Tch, my sorry ass? You’re the one who always seems to get all buddy-buddy with dragons. You heal them too gently. You’re the one with a sorry ass.” 
Cue my sarcastic mode. “Oh, I’m sorry for calling you a sorry ass. I must so clearly be the worst one since I’d rather not have dragons fight me all the time like you,” There was another sickening “crack” as its jaw was put back into place. The dragon hisses in obvious pain. I bring up the rag to the side of his jaw to try quickly relieving it. “Easy bud,” I try to whisper to make Masura not hear. Thankfully he didn’t seem to since he didn’t comment on it.  “We can’t all think with our muscles rather than with our brains. Nothing would get done right,” I continue, but this time out loud. The loud dragon lets out a snort. 
His footsteps go away, indicating he left. Probably upset. Good. I roll my eyes at him as I look over the dragon’s jaw. Good as new. Good thing about that is there’s not really any way to tell if I healed it all the way or not. Broken or dislocated bones are crazy enough easier and faster to heal than wounds. How that works with leaving the layer right under cut open and easily able to tear open again, but heals bone instantly is beyond me. 
Looking around and closing any other wounds, I then go to the maned one. He nips at me to try getting my hands away. It’s far more gentle and human-like than the others that have tried to bite me before. Almost like he’s telling me he doesn’t want to be healed by human hands. Understandable. 
… wait a minute. Bite, or opening jaw… I look towards the loud one and flinch, preparing for his voice. Of course I can heal, but it still hurts. My shoulders even tense upwards. It never comes. Looking at him, he still just looks at me. 
Well, now I’m in a dilemma. Do I put on the muzzle now, and possibly break this trust or whatever he seems to somehow already be giving me, or leave it off and possibly get yelled at later by him, or even someone coming in to see him without his muzzle? 
Ugh, I might regret this. Might as well risk it for now. I can just lie that it was forgotten to be put on if someone asks about it. Turning back to this one, I heal him anyways. He makes a slight hissing fuss but accepts it after a moment. After finishing, I leave to get them some raw meat to eat. Sadly, the biggest thing available is some moderately sized fish. They don’t seem like river or ocean dragons, so chunks of deer will have to do. It gets placed down not too far from them. They look at me warily for a bit. Maybe they don’t want me to watch them eat? It’s time for me to leave anyway. 
Ugh, but the muzzles… Hopefully, they’ll eat when I’m away for a bit. I have a stupid idea I’ve never done before. Sleeping beside the dragons. Walking out lets me give that a little more thought. At least one night to see how they do couldn’t hurt. But first, there is a need to talk to All For One about their names.
I enter the area he usually is with his prized dragons. Most are pretty indifferent to me, except for Toga who has tried to stab me more than once with her blade-like tail. 
I stand behind him awkwardly while he pats Spinner’s right shoulder. “They’re both… Interesting to say the least. A shame for Moonfish, but the ones tomorrow will be entertaining as well. Let’s see if they can handle Toga and Dabi.” Dread slightly seeps into me. He’s already making them face all his most dangerous ones? 
“What about their names if you decide to manipulate them after and keep them as pawns?” 
He shakes his head. “I have enough pawns. The audience has decided on Shatter for the loud one, and Lion for the other..” 
… What? “Lion?” 
“Must be the hair on it. I don’t name the things. The people do. The one thing they do have control over.” Which is beyond sad. Fucking tyrant. 
I nod in reply. “Sounds good.” After that, I leave before he could say or do anything else. The less around him the better, even if he hasn’t done anything negative towards me yet.  
Upon entering the same place again, they did eventually eat the meat while I was gone. That’s good. There’s an open area a bit to the left and away from the dragons. I plan on laying there for the night. It’s only to make sure no one comes in and sees them without their muzzles. No one but me knows a feeding schedule so it’s a good lie saying they were just fed. I’ve decided to think they can understand human speech, even if they don’t. They’re more pleasant to talk to than most people around. 
“All right you two, I normally don’t do this, but I’ll be sleeping in here a bit away from the both of you for a few nights. My back won’t appreciate it, but I sure hope you two do. It’s only because I’d rather not put those muzzles back on,” I look at the still slightly dented skin of Shatter. Damn, and that was only for like what? Half a day of him wearing it? “But if someone comes in, I will have to temporarily put them back on. Please don’t fight it too much.” 
Shatter tilts his head in an almost cute type of way. Well, that’s certainly unique. I go over to the corner and sit down against the wall. Leaning slightly back so my back fully touches it, and tilt my head up. My ass won’t be too happy tomorrow either. Maybe bringing my pillow for tomorrow night or something will help. 
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I am rudely woken up by something sharp stabbing my foot. Looking down, it’s a feisty Bombay kitten biting and clawing at it. Where did it come from? Another thing noticed is my body is now fully laying sideways on the ground. “Ouch! Hey there you little feisty thing.” I go to grab it, and it notices. It then takes off towards the dragons, making my heart sink thinking it’s about to become a tiny snack for one of them. Strange enough, neither do. Lion just looks at it in an almost caring way. Shatter looks at Lion in a way I can’t fully understand. 
Looking outside, the sun is just starting to fully show. That means in just a few hours the arena fights will begin again. Knowing All For One, he’s going to save these two for last again. Turning back to the two, Lion has one of his claws gently extended for the kitten to play with. That is once again extremely odd behavior for a dragon. Maybe everything known about them is wrong? 
“Be careful today. I was informed of who you two will be fighting. They’re much more dangerous than the other two yesterday. One has fire hot enough to burn scales off dragons. The other is agile and very good at injuring.” 
They just look at me. 
A few fights have already passed, and my anxiety increases for the two. I’ve already had to heal the other dragons that fought today. Except for the ones that died. Getting really tired of seeing so many die for no cause other than the sick entertainment of humans. 
The muzzles were already temporarily put back on the two. Shatter’s is rather loose, just to help him not freak out again, and he obviously doesn’t deserve something like that. Luckily once again, I’m the only one taking care of Shatter. He doesn’t scream at me as I quickly take it off. I risk it and pat his shoulder. “Good luck out there. You’re going to need it. He doesn’t bite me! Man, this is crazy.
Again, the gate opens and his chains come off of him. Lion bolts out of the stall next to us, and glares inside it, probably involving Masura. 
Straight to the chase, Toga and Dabi are released from their places. Dabi almost gets a grin on his face from his teeth being shown in what seems to be a smile. Or maybe even a sneer with how stuck up he seems to be. Toga immediately poises her sharp tail above her. 
It feels like everyone holds their breath for a second as the four stand still in the arena. Toga is the first to charge for Shatter. He immediately jumps out of the way, and tries to swing his tail towards her legs to make her fall off balance. She jumps over his tail and stabs it in the process. She then licks the blood off of the blade of her tail. 
Shit! I forgot to warn about her transformation! The one thing though it could still be easy to tell which is the real shatter from his ability, and he wouldn’t attack Lion. I don’t think All For One knows they care about each other. Wait… But if she fights Shatter in his form and Lion tries to help… Oh no. 
Dabi starts using his fire towards Lion. It slightly grazes him before he can get out of the way. He lets out a growl in slight pain as smoke comes from some of his scales. Shatter goes to use his ability at Dabi, but stops abruptly as Toga transforms into him. She goes to attack him again. She might remember his ability from listening and possibly watching yesterday. They’re able to watch for an even better chance at winning. 
She swings her claws at his throat, making him go to the defensive and try to back away. 
While that is going on, Lion is too busy being focused on Dabi’s fire, and constantly jumping from it. It gets to the point Lion is facing me, and the back of Dabi is visible. He glares at Dabi, and I see his eyes turn red. Why the FUCK are these two dragons so much stranger than most!? What is up with his eyes changing color!? Dabi goes to use his fire, but… It doesn’t come out? 
… !!! A cancellation ability!? 
Now that seems to catch the attention of everyone, especially All For One. He leans a bit forward in his chair. I can’t see Dabi’s face, but I bet it’s one of surprise judging by his tensed body. He freezes for a moment, giving Lion the chance to strike first. He’s able to manage a pretty deep slash onto Dabi’s side when he tries to move away. One quick glance shows Lion’s eyes are back to his steel or whitish color. He only manages another rather deep slash to Dabi’s shoulder. He tries to use his fire again, and succeeds. With the close range I worry that Lion was burned to a crisp immediately. 
He glares again to cancel the fire again before it can do serious damage to him. Ah, so there is a timer-like thing for it. He slams his tail into Dabi, knocking him towards his back. He’s able to manage another slash onto Dabi’s exposed stomach. It’s easy to tell Dabi is slightly panicking, not used to never being hit so much before. Probably the cancellation as well. 
Presumably Toga notices Dabi having a hard time, meanwhile, she’s giving Shatter a surprisingly hard time, and a lot of injuries. She charges towards him still as Shatter and manages to get a clean deep swipe to his right eye. My heart sinks to my stomach. 
Lion hardly gives it a chance though since he notices Dabi trying to get back up. He claws again at Dabi, striking his chest. There’s now a good pool of blood being trailed onto the ground from all Dabi’s wounds. Now that Shatter has a bit of freedom, he’s able to scream. Just like yesterday, it’s much more of a screech than a scream. Again like before, Dabi and Toga flinch in pain at the sound. It gives Lion the chance to injure the Shatter that attacked him, making the transformation wear off. 
Before anything else can be done, chain envelops the two again, allowing Dabi and Toga to get away freely. Of course the coward would do this when his precious pawns are losing. “Cheating bastard.” I mumble with obvious frustration. Shatter looks towards me again. 
That’s the least of my concern now though. Lion’s eye needs to be looked at ASAP. I go back to their stalls to prepare for their return. 
Again, it doesn’t take long. Neither are wearing muzzles, but Shatter doesn’t scream, possibly in fear of his jaw being dislocated again. Masura almost seems disappointed when he and the others drag them in. It was almost too much to wait for all of them to leave before rushing towards the two dragons, especially Lion.
When reaching up for his head, I almost yank it down to my eye level to see the damage to his eye. They almost seem surprised by my concern. Thankfully, his eye was missed, just barely. My foot nervously taps onto the ground for a second while in thought. It’s still a really deep wound, but fully healing it would raise suspicion, and All For One already isn’t too happy with these two defeating so many of his favorites. Not many have been able to beat Dabi and Toga. My hand gets its familiar glow and comes into contact with the wound. I don’t heal it all the way. There’s a giant scar left instead. They gave me a look. “I’m sorry. I really badly want to heal it fully, but I don’t want to die by healing you guys too much like the last person did,” I look towards the burned scales as well. “Those can’t be fully healed either. Some reason my healing doesn’t really work on burns.” 
Their eyes almost seem to widen. 
Shatter looks towards the entrance instead a moment later and hisses. I rush for the muzzles. Obviously, they’re really resilient to them being put on. 
I get Shatter’s on just in time for All For One to enter. He goes right up to Lion. “A canceling ability. Simply magnificent. I wonder, how many can he cancel at once? Guess tomorrow we will see,” He almost seems to glare at Shatter. “Although I do not trust that one to not get in the way. Tomorrow will be just Lion, or now given the name Suppress.”
He goes to touch the now named “Suppress”, but he smacks his head against All For One’s hand, making him pull it away. “Ah, still got good fight as well. Good. Tomorrow will be interesting.”
“Uh, S-sir? If I may ask, what is your plan for him tomorrow?” Damn it, why did I have to stutter? 
He turns his masked head towards me. I can almost FEEL his grinning under the thing. “He’s going to fight Tomura as well tomorrow.” 
I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. There’s no way he can fight Dabi, Toga, AND Tomura at the same time without being killed! 
He doesn’t say anything else as he turns and leaves. I quickly take their muzzles back off. There’s nothing that can be done. I can only hope he’s strong enough to survive. No dragon has survived Tomura though. I sigh heavily and look at Suppress. “I hope you can handle a lot at once. If I’m right, you might be against three tomorrow. Be as ruthless as you can. They won't be holding back.” 
I leave and grab food for them again. This time, they eat it with me there. I sit in the same spot as before. 
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The next day comes too soon. This time I’m woken up to the sun shining right on my face. That means it’s much later than yesterday. I go to sit up, and nearly groan in stiffness. Yep, here comes the pain and stiffness of laying on the floor. The two of them are staring at me while growling, or probably talking to each other. Well that’s a little weird. 
I get up lean backwards, giving my back a good crack. It felt satisfying and did relieve the tiniest bit of discomfort. Using my healing, it doesn’t take long to feel fully normal again. I look at the giant scar still under Suppress’ eye. Pity courses through me at it. Well, at least she didn’t strike slightly higher, permanently losing his sight. Judging that Suppressor might be taken soon for a final fight today, I get up and grab the muzzles yet again. I’m so sick of even seeing these damn things. Suppressor’s gets put on properly, but I keep Shatter’s a bit loose again. He almost seems appreciative of it. “When they come to take you, save your energy for the fight. You’re going to need everything you can get.” 
They were put on just in time too since Masura comes in with a few others to take Suppress. “Already?” I question. 
“Yeah, he wants this to be the only fight today. He couldn’t wait to see what this thing is made of.” 
This “thing” is a he, you overdeveloped rotten cabbage. 
The dragon must have been able to understand me since he doesn’t fight them that strongly as they drag him out by the chains. I sigh and look towards Shatter. “I hope he’s strong. He’s going to need everything he can get.” 
I follow Masura into the stall. It’s odd being in a different one for once, and I’m horrified with how roughly they throw him around with the chains. I go up front and take off his muzzle yet again, allowing him to snap at the people. I smirk as he gets dangerously close to his teeth meeting the flesh of one of the men close to me on my left. He shrieks and stumbles far away. 
He then gets shoved forward out of the stall into the arena. Masura and the others quickly leave, probably to the stands to get a better view of the fight higher up. 
It’s dead silent in the stands. “Now, I know there are usually a few every day, but this is a chance that can’t be taken up. Today is a one fight only, and three against one. Now, that usually doesn’t happen with the lack of action that would normally cause, but this dragon has an incredibly special ability I want to see how they fare on their own,” three separate gates open, revealing what I feared. He’s given them a higher advantage by not all being together to have their abilities eliminated. Now, Toga’s not really a problem since Suppress doesn’t have an ally, but she’s still incredibly agile and dangerous. 
Tomura is probably one of the oddest dragons. His scales look incredibly dry, despite not exactly being a desert dragon. Bright red eyes glowing with hate, and talons of dead dragons latched onto his body. Don’t know why they’re there, but it’s still such a sickening thing to see. 
Dabi looks good as before with no slash wounds to be seen. Of course the fucker is willing to fully heal his dragons whenever they’re injured. 
Toga is in front, Dabi on Suppress’ left, and Tomura on his right. There was an eerie stillness for a moment, almost like they're all waiting for something. That something was Tomura. He hissed something, and they all lunged for him. He manages to dodge all three. Tomura is trying to get a grip on him for disintegration, or decay, or whatever terrifying thing it is he does. Suppress is trying to keep an eye on him and ducks down in time to avoid Dabi’s fire. Toga tries to stab him with her tail while he’s lowered against Dabi’s fire and watching Tomura.  
Turns out he was somehow also able to keep watch of Toga. He brings his tail in front of him and pushes Toga up without her realizing. Dabi’s fire hits her for a moment, making her let out a sound that makes Dabi stop. Even from here smoke is coming off of her back. 
She jumps out of the way for Dabi to continue. He uses his ability to stop Dabi from using his hot fire. Since he’s so distracted by keeping his sight on Dabi, and ends up focusing more on Toga’s location. Tomura is able to get up on him again. He manages to grab Suppress' right arm. It’s not for long as he seems to notice immediately what the dragon’s ability does. It stops decaying as he glares at Tomura instead. 
Dabi notices and tries to use his fire again. It works. So his ability must need to keep his eyes in contact with a dragon to stop their ability. Chunks of his arm fall away, leaving his arm to start bleeding rather heavily. Suppress flinches is obvious pain. He’s able to keep a level head and use Tomura’s grip on him to pull him in front in the path of Dabi’s fire. Really clever using a long-range foe’s ability to harm its allies. 
Dabi doesn’t stop in time, greatly charring Tomura’s already bad scales as well. 
All For One isn’t too happy of his favorite pawn being injured so quickly already. Well, it’s obviously his fault for the other two joining in the first place. 
A sick pleasure grows in me at his frustrated stance of tight grip on his chair. Though pity courses through me as well looking at his partially decayed arm. Should have warned him about that. 
Toga manages to ignore the pain of her burned scales and attempts to attack Suppress again. He swipes his tail as hard as he can, making Toga go flying and crash into the wall from her rather small size. Especially compared to the others. The back of her head hit the wall as well, and she slumps to the ground, unmoving. She doesn’t seem to be dead though, her stomach still slightly rising. 
Now All For One seems to be getting angrier. He doesn’t seem to be the only one. Tomura lets out a rather angry growl. Suppress is facing me again, and blinks, though he really didn’t seem to want to. That’s all the two needed to go all-out on him again. 
Tomura tries to grab him again but wasn’t able to. Suppress grabs right above his two front talons to prevent more decay. One thing going for him is he’s much stronger physically, so he’s able to manage quite easily keeping him pinned down. 
With Dabi’s fire consistently being shot at him, he does something his body shows he didn’t really want to do. He tilts his head and leans down, biting into the sides of Tomura’s neck. He slowly continues to bite down harder as Dabi doesn’t cease using his fire at him. Tomura is visually starting to panic at this point.
I think I know his plan, but it probably won’t work. Dabi doesn’t really care about the others but tolerates them for his own enjoyment of the arena. 
Looking at All For One, I freeze. He’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him. I can swear I see his hands shaking from here. Huh, he’s not usually the type to have strong visual emotion besides slight interest. 
Eventually, there was a sickening “crunch”, indicating that Suppress must have bitten into bone. Tomura’s neck slumps to the side, and he can’t seem to pick his head back up. 
All For One had enough as he stood up from his chair for the first time and I can see the chains going for Suppress again. The chains yank Suppress so harshly that he drops Tomura, and ends up being slammed into one of the walls himself. 
My body freezes completely as All For One’s head turns to look directly at me. I’m happy Suppress was able to survive, but now I’m dreading what All For One’s going to do to him. 
I rush back to Shatter since I can tell All For One is about to come in this time. He seems desperate to have the muzzle off again. His eyes almost light up as I enter. “Sorry, I can’t take it off yet. Your friend is in pretty bad shape though and will be coming shortly.” 
I almost waited with bated breath for a good few minutes. This time, instead of Masura and the others, it was All For One himself, easily dragging the dragon along. The chains pull him back by the other and latch back onto the walls. He has chains wrapped around his snout like the other did before. He’s between me and the dragons, and I can see their expressions behind him. Suppress is still flinching in pain from his decayed flesh. 
He turns his head to me. “Kill them both.”
I was in shock. I have never been demanded to kill a dragon, yet alone two before. He won fairly! Even with injuries! He and Shatter deserve to be let free! 
I notice the two dragons tense behind him. 
“I will not repeat myself. They nearly killed my best pawn. Nothing gets to pass my pawn. That will not stand, so they will be killed,” He looks at Shatter’s loosened muzzle. Fuck. “I noticed they seem to be trusting of you, so I’m making you do it. You have one hour,” he turns around and leaves. 
I look at the wounds of his fight from earlier. You know what? Fuck him. If I die, I die. 
“I think you both more than earned your freedom by now. Hell, neither of you should have been here in the first place. Do me a favor and warn the others to not come near here ever again.” Shatter tilts his head at me again as I take off his muzzle and the chains around Suppress' snout.  Here’s to hoping they can understand me. The sword hanging on the wall out of reach of the two dragons should be able to break the chains. 
My first priority is to fully heal that decayed part. The scar under his eye is sadly permanent now though. My hand glows its familiar green and it hovers over the wound. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be fully healed either, but the scar is much smaller than it would have been. I try my best with the burns, but it doesn’t do much. 
The longer my hand hovers right above his scales and heals him, the more drained and tired I feel. It gets to the point my body tries to fall forward. I push my hand onto him to try keeping my balance. “Whew. Not quite… Used to using so much energy. Haha.” His shoulder that I’m leaning against twitches. I take it as my cue to step away and end up leaning against the wall not far behind me to catch my breath. Looking towards Shatter, he’s still in pretty good shape, but the wounds from before can be healed a bit more to make sure they don’t reopen. 
I trudge over to him and do the same, ending up leaning on him like Suppress. This time even more tired though. I can’t rest yet. There’s so little time to get them free yet. I push myself off him and go to grab the sword. With my tired state it’s almost too heavy to be lifted. 
The first thing was their wings with metal being wrapped around them and pulled outwards. I grab the chain closer to him to try preventing it from pulling. The sword gets slammed down as hard as possible, making the chain break. One by one, the others were broken too. Eventually, all were broken off of both. My arm is so sore from lifting the sword so many times, and being drained in the first place. My breath is incredibly ragged. 
After dropping the sword after the final chain, I close my eyes and lean against the wall. It’s hard to stay awake. “There. Now… Get going before someone returns.” 
Both of them stop towards the entrance and look at me. “Go!” I yell at them and point forward. They stay for a moment longer, then bolt out. 
I stay leaned for a few minutes. That was beyond exhausting. Two familiar sets of footsteps enter.
“You damn traitor. I really thought you’d be better than the last. I should kill you now!” 
I look towards the entrance. All For One and Masura. Guess just get it over with then.
All For One stops him with an arm in front of him. “No. They deserve much worse than death for their betrayal.”    
Well shit.
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Locked in a dark cell for a good week. Hardly any food, and quite possibly the bare minimum of water given for me to stay alive. At least it wasn’t permanent. Almost wish it was with that happens after leaving the cell. After leaving, he gave the others free rein to injure me whenever they pleased. Masura was more than happy to oblige, leaving me with some rather problematic injuries that made me so tired to heal I could barely heal dragons if I tried. Of course, now someone is always watching me when it’s my time to heal the dragons. My job is only partial now though since he wants someone more “loyal” for the job. Hopefully, those two are happy at least. That’s all that matters. 
In speaking of that, today was a day I wasn’t in charge of it. But Masura sure as hell had a lot of fun tossing me around like a ragdoll. Many show pity for me, but they know not to help. I can’t blame them no matter how much it hurts. A younger one with green curly hair looks like he wanted to deck Masura himself. Same with the dual-haired one beside him. Another rather tall one with glasses stops them and uses a chopping motion to tell them something, making them not intervene. They were a bit too far to be heard. My body is too tired today to heal the recent wounds from him as well. Pretty sure my right eye is a black eye from it being stuck partially closed and obviously the pain. 
While looking around to make sure he’s not near me or any of the others for now today, I stumble upon a rather intimidating-looking man. His back is facing me as someone with really long blue hair is talking to him. He just radiates a strong and uncomfortable type of feeling. Never seen them around before. He doesn’t even turn around. “Sorry, sir.” Some reason that seems to catch his attention. The other two, which is a rather pretty woman. Rather long and messy black hair turns around to lock steely-gray-like eyes with mine. 
That scar reminds me too much of the dragon from before. Wasn’t the scar about the same place too? Huh, he must have been too interested in that fight and lacks self-preservation or something. His eyes widen for some reason. He must have been told by others to not even come near the now outcast. 
I don’t even get to blink when he grabs one of my arms to pull me towards him again. My body instinctively flinches and gets prepared to be hit again. It never comes. My eyes open to see him staring at small cuts still bleeding slightly. His sight then immediately goes towards my swollen eye. There’s an odd fury that grows in his eyes the more he sees. Too tired to think what that must be about. I try to pull my arm free from his grip. ‘I’m sorry sir, but could you please let me go? I’m really tired and just want to go home for the day.” 
He doesn’t. If anything, his grip gets slightly tighter from me trying to pull away. Not painfully so, but it’s there. The other turns to look, and her eyes widen a substantial amount. She looks at him. “They the one? They’re not looking so hot.”
“We got what we need. Tell Zashi and the others.” 
She nods and pushes something hidden against her ear. “We found the target.” She says something else too, but my mind is too caught up in the “target” part. 
T-target!? That snaps me to attention. What did All For One tell them? Are they looking for something and he pinned the blame on me that I have it? Did he hire them to make my life more insufferable?  
A set of footsteps comes up rapidly. They must be running as fast as they could. It’s another male. He has incredibly long hair and some rather odd facial hair. He suddenly hugs me. “So glad to have finally found you! The week has been terrible! Sho! We shoulda taken then with us!” 
I don’t know you weirdos. What kind of sick prank is this? I try to push him away. “You must have the wrong person. I don’t know either of you.” He latches on tighter. “C’mon, we’re not dragons now, but you gotta recognize us! Especially Sho’s scar! 
...What? Looking closer, the blond one seems to have small scales poking at his clothing. That… This cannot be possible. I shake my head in disbelief. “There’s no way! Dragon shifters aren’t real!” 
“Oh, we definitely are, dear- what happened!? Why do you have so many injuries!?” 
“That Masura man I’m guessing. Problem child informed me of it not too long ago.” 
Problem child? 
The blond one almost seems to growl. “Don’t regret our decision for today then.”
“Decision?” I question. 
They both grow a rather sadistic smirk. I can’t tell which is more unnerving. The blond’s is bigger and shows more of his teeth, but there’s just something about the black-haired one’s that seems more unnatural.  
“Well, we’ve been lookin’ for ya for about a week now. We were starting to think he did kill you, and we weren’t happy. Besides! A dragon killer like him can’t live anyway. He’s a danger to our kind!” he turns towards the woman. “Give everyone the signal,” He turns towards this ‘“Sho” or whatever he is. “You should take them. Don’t want any more damage to our poor lovely healer, huh?” He smiles at me. 
I’m… still trying to wrap my frazzled mind and body around this. I don’t get to though from the sudden thing of many of the people around suddenly growing rapidly in size, and obtaining dragon qualities. 
It doesn’t even take a minute for them all to be full dragons, and ripped clothes everywhere. As well as the two familiar ones right in front of me. Shatter and Suppress. 
Shatter picks me up and flies up a bit, being careful with his claws. He places me on Suppress’ back. 
Can things please stop for two minutes to let me think!? Again, I don’t get to as Suppress takes off into the air. There’s nothing to really grab onto to not fall off, so I grab his hair. It’s surprisingly soft. Wasn’t expecting that. My hands make the hair wrap around my hands a few times to not have to clench it so tightly. I’d rather not fall to my death. 
He either dosn’t feel me pulling on his hair or doesn’t care. I lean closer to ignore the air whipping by as he speeds around flying. The screaming of the people is also a bit too much. They have nothing to fend themselves since dragons have never attacked this place before. Usually they get caught before they do.  
There’s the familiar screaming or yelling of Shatter in the distance. I look over to see him with multiple other dragons against All For One. He’s gotten a few chained to the ground, but the sheer amount of them that keep using their abilities against him is making it really hard for him to focus. 
A familiar exploding dragon zooms past to fight one of his prized dragons he must have let free to help. They’re not helping much. They can’t. There are too many. Toga tries to stab him with her tail, but the exploding one is relentless. He has a sick smile, almost like he’s enjoying the fight. He almost too quickly manages to pin her to the ground and slams explosion after explosion onto her face. 
Dabi is being managed by an oddly colored dragon that reminds me of the red and white-haired one from earlier. With him fighting Dabi is a green one with an oddly long tongue, and a pink and brown one who somehow can move large buildings to fall onto Dabi, making him constantly jump around to avoid being hit. 
Tomura doesn’t seem to be having much luck either. The two must have informed the others of his ability. He’s against multiple with long-ranged abilities like Shatter. 
Despite all the noise around, I’m getting even more tired with the rocking of his body with the movement of his wings. Same with his oddly warm scales being rather comforting, and hair draping around me like a blanket. Exhaustion overtakes me as the sounds of screaming people, roaring dragons, and crackling fire of houses slowly fades to silence with me drifting off. 
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Not edited to the fullest capability. We die like captains with their sinking ships. Will be doing a part two with better yandere stuff...
….. Eventually…...
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zintranslations · 4 years ago
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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 120
Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates
Chapter 120: The Thirteenth Door
Right after the new year, it came about time for Gu Longming to enter his door.
Ruan Nanzhu selected a sixth door hint slip, and on it was a name familiar to all—Minotaur. A monster from ancient Greek mythology with a bull's head and a human's body that guarded a maze.
In the myth, it was a creature of an extremely violent temperament born of a human and a white bull. Shut away in the Labyrinth on the island of Crete, it ate seven pairs of boys and girls each year. Then it was killed by a bastard son of Athens, Theseus. Point was, there wasn't much intel to gain about the door from a hint like this. Only once they went in and encountered the actual situation could they connect it to the hint on the paper slip.
Lin Qiushi also showed this hint to Gu Longming ahead of time. After Gu Longming received it, he expressed his thorough gratitude for Lin Qiushi, and Lin Qiushi too was forthright with a vaccination—he said that in this door, he could not be responsible for Gu Longming's life, and Gu Longming ought to prepare himself accordingly.
Gu Longming agreed to every stipulation, and said he had already prepared himself for never coming out.
Their time of entry was roughly the tenth of the lunar new year, when celebrations were trailing off, leisurely vacations were coming to an end, and everybody grew busy again.
Lin Qiushi readied everything and began to wait for the door.
The tenth quickly came. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and few people were in the mansion. There was only Lin Qiushi sitting in the living room eating Lu Yanxue's freshly cooked pumpkin seeds. Lu Yanxue's culinary skills were, as usual, the best; the pumpkin seeds she fried up were flavored with the five spices and fragrant as all hell. Lin Qiushi could pass an entire afternoon with just a handful of the stuff.
Ruan Nanzhu had already gotten changed and was waiting upstairs. Lin Qiushi saw that it was about time, and so hoisted his hefty backpack and headed upstairs to go look for him.
Due to their last door, Lin Qiushi intentionally stuffed his bag with a great number of food items. Daily necessities from outside could be brought inside, but weapons that were more against the spirit of the doors were not. Guns and other firearms, for example, could not be brought inside.
Once you'd entered the doors, of course, there might exist some special limitations, like in the sanitarium door when the NPC told them the rule where they could not eat food brought in from the outside. The reality was that these kinds of limitations were rare, but all Lin Qiushi wanted to achieve was the principle of Better Safe Than Sorry. At any rate, the condition from the tenth door where they had to open a chest if they wanted to eat had left quite the shadow on his psyche.
Lin Qiushi entered Ruan Nanzhu's bedroom and sat with him on the bed for a while. Then he felt the atmosphere around him change. It took only the time of a blink for Ruan Nanzhu, who had been sitting right beside him, to disappear without a trace. Lin Qiushi pushed open the bedroom door in front of him and saw that what had originally been the hallway was now a series of twelve black metal doors. What a familiar sight.
He walked to the sixth door and gave it a tug. The next moment, Lin Qiushi was sucked in by an immense force. The scenery around him was also altering dramatically, and by the time he opened his eyes again, he could feel a faint rocking beneath his feet.
Lin Qiushi took a closer look, and discovered that he'd appeared on a large old ship. It was just about sunset, and there were black clouds frighteningly low in the sky, as if they were going to smother the horizon at any moment. Inky seawater tossed before him, blown into violent waves by the winds.
Lin Qiushi smelled the gamy salt of the ocean, and because of the excessive waves, the ancient deck beneath his feet was ceaseless in its swaying. He saw that on the floorboards, there were seaweed-clung creatures clutching at the wood, making for an immensely uncomfortable sight.
Lin Qiushi took a few steps forward and saw in the ship cabin a dim-glowing light. He followed the corridor to the interior, and heard miserable wailing coming from inside.
"Uwaaaa, why am I here? What the hell did you all do to me?!" It had been a while since he last heard these cries of a newbie—Lin Qiushi was actually a bit surprised. He spotted the crying person immediately. It was a young woman, wiping at her tears with her hands. "You goddamn perverts, you guys must have kidnapped me. I'm going to call the cops and have you all arrested!!"
Most people were listening to her sob in silence. Newbies, after all, only ever reacted in so many ways: most cried; some tried to run; and some, of the truly psychologically frail sort, came in and pretty much had an immediate meltdown.
Lin Qiushi stood where he was. He noticed that around this girl were a few people who didn't look so good, who also seemed in various degrees of panic. They clearly weren't prepared to enter a door, and were likely newbies like the girl. But at least they weren't wailing endlessly like the young woman, and were still calm in comparison.
Lin Qiushi's gaze searched through the crowd and very quickly found its target—a woman seated in a corner and smiling at him.
The woman wore a long dress—the same outfit Ruan Nanzhu wore before they came in.
Lin Qiushi had the script in his head, and he took his time approaching the woman and holding out his hand: "Yu Linlin."
"Zhu Meng." The woman took his hand and smiled. "The red thread of destiny found us inside this door, let's cherish this meeting."
Lin Qiushi couldn't help but laugh.
"Indeed. Let's cherish this meeting."
Really, this little drama queen of his—putting on a show even when there was no stage to be had.
Just as the two were talking, a young man came tumbling in through the door. Though his face was unfamiliar, his clothes told Lin Qiushi his identity—it was Gu Longming, who'd agreed to meet with Lin Qiushi over the internet.
Gu Longming was entirely soaked. Once he came in he began to curse under his breath: "fuckers, throwing me on a lifeboat—why don't you just throw me into the ocean huh? Goddamn jealous of my beauty or what—"
Though he kept his voice down, Lin Qiushi's hearing was superb, and so could easily hear all the crap he was spewing. For a moment, Lin Qiushi himself didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Of course, he didn't laugh. He only cleared his throat once and covered his mouth with his hand, swallowing down the urge to smile. Gu Longming's eyes lapped the gathered people and very quickly fell upon Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu. He came over with a bright grin, greeting the two as if they'd just met completely by coincidence.
As a matter of act, this little trick where they faked a chance encounter was only useful for the earlier doors. Once in the later doors, that old fox-spirit manifested in everyone, and not having a partner actually made you the odd one out.
As for whether or not somebody would identify them as part of the same crew, Lin Qiushi used to worry about that. Now though, not so much.
The cabin of the old ship wasn't big, nor was it bright. The only lighting equipment was a handful of tiny kerosene lamps overhead, flickering periodically with the sway of the ship.
The sky grew darker outside, and the number of people kept increasing. Finally, it stopped at the count of fourteen.
Everybody assessed their surroundings as they met up with their own teammates. The crowd seemed to be very quickly divided up into teams, with the handful of newbies left out. Without much choice, they had to make up their own team.
Just as the crowd grew noisy with discussion, a middle-aged man came in from the outside. His get-up looked a bit like a medieval pirate, and he carried a swaying kerosene lamp in his hand.
"Welcome to the Black Skerry," the man spoke. His voice sounded quite raspy, like the effects of long-term drinking or smoking had brought about irreversible damage to his throat. "I hope you all have a good time here."
After he finished saying this, he laughed like a maniac, and his high-pitched laughter, like fingernails scoring a chalkboard, sent goosebumps rising along the skin.
"In ten days, the Black Skerry will reach harbor," the man said. "Our voyage will end then, so please enjoy our wonderful time together."
Just as he finished speaking, somebody rushed out of the cabin. Lin Qiushi first thought that this person had gotten scared, but not long after, there came from outside the sound of violent vomiting—it seemed that some unlucky bastard was seasick.
"Where in the world are we?" The sobbing young girl had also been scared by the man before her, and she spoke: "are we filming a show? I'm really, really scared, can I please quit? I don't want to play anymore, I'm begging you…"
The man completely ignored her. He merely went on watching the crowd with a cool gaze.
The girl seemed to want to go up and take hold of him, but when she got to his side she suddenly stopped, face draining of all color. She then backed up a few steps, as if she'd seen something truly terrifying.
Lin Qiushi's eyesight wasn't as good as Ruan Nanzhu's, and due to the dim lights he didn't see a thing. It was Ruan Nanzhu who quietly explained the situation to him:
"That person's covered in some sort of black insect."
Gu Longming shivered.
"Is he dead or alive then?"
"I don't know," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Doesn't look too good either way."
Under typical circumstances, only the NPC who provided them with the key information was somewhat normal. If even that NPC wasn't normal, then there really weren't any normal people to speak of.
Lin Qiushi hadn't imagined that their door this time would be an ancient ship. And by the looks of things, the time limit was ten days.
"Come along, I'll take to to where you'll sleep," the man said. "It'll be dark soon…and it'll rain."
After this, he began that manic laugh again, and the group was even more disturbed.
The man brought them to the guest cabins and began divvying up the rooms.
Most of the rooms here were doubles, with a rare triple here and there. At first, Lin Qiushi was assigned a double, but Gu Longming brazenly went and found a man to switch room numbers with, strong-arming them into a triple.
"You'll bargain for even this sort of thing?" Lin Qiushi shot Gu Longming a look of admiration.
"Well I'm scared of dying, aren't I…" Gu Longming said. He didn't want to sleep alone, and though it wasn't quite right to be a third wheel, being a third wheel was much better than being dead.
Ruan Nanzhu’s smile was inscrutable.
"That's fair."
They'd planned to inspect the entire ship, but because the night was already so dark, moving about outside would be too dangerous. They would rest first, and wait until tomorrow to make plans.
And so the three got their key and went to their room, getting into bed after quickly washing up.
When Ruan Nanzhu went to change, Gu Longming took the opportunity to poke at Lin Qiushi, whispering, "yo, not cool man, how come you didn't tell me you had such a pretty girlfriend?"
Lin Qiushi answered a vague: "…mh."
"Oh she's stunning," Gu Longming said with a sigh. "If I had a girlfriend like that I'd want to stick around her every day too."
As he spoke, he looked to Lin Qiushi with an expression that was both envy and admiration.
Lin Qiushi watched him back and wondered how he would react if he knew Ruan Nanzhu was drag queen. Of course, it wasn't something he could tell Gu Longming now. Gu Longming was not yet part of Obsidian, and the fact that Ruan Nanzhu wore drag was Obsidian's biggest most vital secret…
After Ruan Nanzhu got changed, he came back inside.
"What are you two talking about?"
"Nothing," Lin Qiushi answered in brief. "He said you were pretty."
Ruan Nanzhu replied with a meaningful oh.
Gu Longming: "…" Why did a chill suddenly go down his back?
The beds on the ship all emanated a damp smell—very uncomfortable for the people lying on top. At this point, the waves and wind were getting bigger, and even the sleeping quarters were beginning to rock. Lin Qiushi remembered that ridiculously seasick, endlessly vomiting pal of theirs from earlier and thought that that guy was pretty much done for.
The sky outside gradually darkened in entirety, leaving only the bellowing winds and the sound of waves beating against each other. With his eyes shut, Lin Qiushi grew drowsy—but before he could fall asleep, he was woken by a sudden crack of thunder. It was like lightning had struck right above their heads. With the loud boom, all three of them awoke in an instant.
After that, it was the pattering pour of rain. The rushing rain and the howling wind—they seemed on the verge of destroying everything.
Their quarters rocked even harder. Lin Qiushi sat up in his bed.
Through the window, he looked to the black evening outside. He saw, however, two illuminated lights. It seemed like the only light sources on deck were kerosene lamps, but how did these lamps stay so bright in the middle of a thunderstorm…? Just as Lin Qiushi wondered this, he suddenly felt that there was something off about those two lights, and Ruan Nanzhu, sitting behind him, spoke up quietly:
"Don't look anymore."
Lin Qiushi, "hm?"
"Those aren't lights," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Those are eyes."
A pair of yellow, inhuman eyes. The owner of the eyes spied through the darkness with malicious intent, as if a beast looking for its prey.
Lin Qiushi instantly looked away, and asked, "what is that thing?"
"I don't know, I can't tell," Ruan Nanzhu said. "The shape is humanoid, but it doesn't seem to be human."
Lin Qiushi's brows lightly furrowed, but by the time he looked out the window once more, the eyes were gone.
Thunder rumbled on and on, and that stench of ocean salt grew thicker and more cloying.
Ruan Nanzhu climbed into Lin Qiushi's bed, and holding each other, the two very quickly returned to sleep. However, the only bachelor present Gu Longming didn't have such luck. Lying beside Lin Qiushi, he stared with plaintive eyes, thinking that in the following days, he'd be fed enough dog food to bloat.
The rainstorm lasted until dawn, and though the rain let up, the weather did not turn any sunnier. Black storm clouds still hovered over the ship, and when the alarm rang, Lin Qiushi actually thought it was not yet morning. He checked the time, however, and saw that it was 8AM. It was just still dark outside.
"Good morning," Ruan Nanzhu greeted Lin Qiushi.
"Good morning. It's so dark outside today."
"It's probably going to keep raining," Ruan Nanzhu said. He walked out onto deck with Lin Qiushi and watched the black waters roil underneath the ship.
Looking up, they couldn't see any land, only the endless swath of sea. Only the old ship beneath their feet felt like any sort of reality.
This sort of isolating environment was easily taxing on the psyche. Even for Lin Qiushi, the scene before them was discomforting.
"Come on, let's go get breakfast," Gu Longming called to the two.
"He's pretty thick-skinned," Ruan Nanzhu commented after hearing Gu Longming's call.
"Yeah," Lin Qiushi said. "His nerves are petty good."
Inside the doors, you didn't have to be too smart, but you definitely had to be brave enough. Before terrifying situations, fright could make a person abandon a large part of their cognitive abilities. The smartest person could lack a strong heart and still do worse inside the door than the obtuse, oblivious Cheng Qianli.
The three went to the dining area and found there an atmosphere that could very well be called lifeless.
Lin Qiushi didn't know why at first. After he saw the menu, however, he couldn't help but also feel a touch of depression.
All the ship offered was fish. And it wasn't even fresh fish—Gu Longming poked at a dead-eyed staring head with his chopsticks and said, "is this thing even edible?"
It was disgusting just to look at.
"It looks gross," Lin Qiushi said. "Try a bit?"
Gu Longming took a bit of meat from the gills and gave it a taste. His expression twisted.
"Fuck, did they deduct the food budget for this door or what? It's disgusting. It's like they’ve had it outside for three days. You try it?"
Lin Qiushi, "oh no, no thank you."
Gu Longming: "…"
The breakfast served in the dining room was, for the most part, stale fish. Aside from that there was only flavorless noddles and peas. The environment had already been vicious enough, but the food in front of them now was salt on top of the wound.
But Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu didn't care at all. After seeing the inedible breakfast they snuck back to their room and fetched from their bags the food they'd prepared.
Gu Longming watched as they pulled out a bottle of chili sauce, eyes bulging out.
"You guys even brought Lao Gan Ma? Did you come here to picnic?"
"Want some?" Lin Qiushi drizzled the Lao Gan Ma over some noodles they'd brought out of the dining hall.
"Yeah yeah yeah. More please." Gu Longming's expression was shameless.
With breakfast finally done, they got ready to search the ship.
There were a total of three decks in the ship, constructed a bit like the sailing vessels of the great nautical era of the Middle Ages. It was extremely old, was all, covered in the marks and traces of times past.
Beside that NPC, they didn't see any other crew members on deck; there was likely only the one NPC on the entire ship. Wait for the ship's return was the mission the NPC left for them this time, but Lin Qiushi had thorough reason to believe that if they couldn't find the door in ten day's time, this voyage of theirs would cycle back and repeat—and they'd experience the ten days all over again.
When Lin Qiushi climbed onto the second deck, he heard a sort of thumping sound, and was uncertain if Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming had heard it as well. So he asked, "did you guys hear that?"
"What?" Gu Longming didn't seem to have heard.
Ruan Nanzhu said, "I think I did, but not very clearly."
"I think it came from the corner…" Lin Qiushi followed the sound forward. "Let's go see."
But before they could get close, Lin Qiushi was hit with a thick, fishy stench. It was disgusting and nauseating to smell; fortunately Cheng Yixie wasn't here, or he might have passed out immediately upon smelling it.
The source of the sound and smell was the same room, and they were close enough now that both Gu Longming and Ruan Nanzhu could hear the thumping noise as well.
The three of them slowed their steps, and through the window, looked into the room.
It was a kitchen with knives and other tools hanging inside. The most eye-catching thing, however, was the dense masses of dead fish hung up on hooks all over the sides.
A person in an apron stood in the center of the room with their back towards them and head down. They were chopping something. After some observation, Gu Longming almost gagged, and said, "don't tell me he's making our breakfast—"
Ruan Nanzhu was very calm.
"It's possible."
Gu Longming did gag. He'd even had a bite of that fish that morning.
Lin Qiushi gave Gu Longming a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
This person in the kitchen, however, was the second living NPC they'd found on the ship.
The three of them stood watching in the kitchen doorway for a while, and saw that besides chopping fish, this person didn't do much of anything else. And so they decided to go see elsewhere first.
Very soon, they discovered a more peculiar room. This room was locked, and curtains were drawn over the window. It was quiet inside, but they could still smell that thick waft of stale fish. Lin Qiushi initially thought the smell had clung to them from the kitchen, but after a careful sniff, found that it was coming from inside the room.
"Do we go in?" Gu Longming was pressed against the window trying to look in, but he could see nothing.
Ruan Nanzhu gave this some thought, before saying, "let's try," and getting out a hairpin to pick the lock.
Watching his adept motions, Gu Longming's eyes widened. Then Gu Longming glanced at Lin Qiushi.
"Is this…is this a basic skillset that y'all come with?"
Lin Qiushi grinned as he joked, "yeah. You have to learn to pick locks if you want to join us."
As he said this, there was a click. Ruan Nanzhu really got the lock open. But oddly enough, after he unlocked the door and gave it a push, he found that though the door lock was undone, there was another lock hanging on the inside. The chain on that lock held the door closed, and they could at most manage a crack—it couldn't be opened at all.
"Wait," Lin Qiushi suddenly said, stopping Ruan Nanzhu from going up and pushing the door. "Stop for a second. There's movement inside."
Ruan Nanzhu halted, and just as he stopped mid-step, a hand, sharp-nailed and covered in scales, reached out of the door. And through that crack in the door, a pair of yellow eyes looked out, peering at the world outside with malicious intent.
Translator’s Note:
The name of the ship could more simply be translated as “Black Reef,” but “Black Skerry” sounds more like a ship name? Let me know if you think otherwise (or know if it’s a specific reference to something).
Lao Gan Ma is a brand of **hot sauce (edited: 7/26), as you can probably tell from context. The original next never uses “hot sauce” though, and just call it Lao Gan Ma in both the prose and the dialogue.
[Ch. 119] | [Ch. 121]
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adcfan · 3 years ago
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WARNED
He could clearly tell from the slightest wrinkle of irritation adoring the top left of her pale forehead that she is beyond annoyed. How could he blame her? After all it was him who lured the bird out of its comfortable nest in the middle of a tough night. From the height he could perceive the darker shades of her shadows dancing along the way she traced making him more curious to explore the limit of the demon’s braveness.
The edges of his lips pulled up to carve an honest smile as his eyes momentarily rested on the dagger resting against her waist that he once offered her in the middle of a battle, a year ago.
With a loud thud he made his presence noticeable startling her to the core in the process. His armor blazed a bright shade of jade green, bathed in the late moonlight that managed to get the taste of his attire. His eyes searched hers involuntarily, seeking to find any glimpse of game she or the titans might have planned to play on him. But all he could find was curiosity.
Curious? Is she really curious?    
“So, you decided to show up in the middle of a young, wanting night, far from your protective shell behalf of a demons’ call”. If it wasn’t for the mask he is wearing, she could see the imperceptible grim plastered over his face with ease. “And here I thought ravens aren’t creatures of the night”, his brows made a childish hunch testing her temper further more than she could actually take.
“What do you want?”, her voice remained cold as she tried her best to control all the urge to take him down on the very spot. His cape danced in unity with her robe as he approached her a little more without her noticing for a very long second. “Aren’t you forgetting a very special day, beloved?”. And that was definitely a hint of sadness that was sprinkled all over the Al Ghul’s tone.
Right, as if he could actually feel sad over anything with all the blood in his hands.
“I am not in for a game, Al Ghul. I have got a whole city to save and a good night’s sleep to resume, but here I am, in the middle of an abandoned area with a ruthless assassin who threatened to explode the best half of the city and what’s next? Seizure?”. Almost a devilish chuckle escaped his lips as if he had conquered the entire world.
“Oh for gods shake, little bird. Do you really think I will abandon the best of all nights in Nanda Parbat to blast a worthless city like Kansas?”, now he is definitely getting on her nerves. “But I must say, I had half a mind to blow the Titans bridge five minutes ago”, his all time devilish smile still painted his arrogant look. Raven barely recognized how Damian managed to corner her against the cold wall whose uneven surface pressed itself against her flawless skin dripping it with the night’s best dew.
“I am not asking you again, Ra’s. Tell me what you want with me before I banish you into a dimension of never return”.
“You hurt me, beloved. Don’t you remember the anniversary of our marriage?”
Married? With him? A year ago?
“If this is some sort of silly joke, you better stop it right now, Ra’s. It’s definitely not funny.”, her voice trembled with doubts by each passing second. She lingered over her left ring finger as if she has seen her own hands for the first time in all her life. No ring? Well that’s a relief.
He is just kidding or may be…
Or may be not
“Do I look like one who makes senseless jokes like the green monkey your tower owns”. 
Thanks to Gar, at least his pride is hurt a little.
“I didn’t say that, but if you insist on it… I may”, and she sure as hell liked hurting his weak point - his pride.
“Then how about I insisting on maintaining a decent distance between Conner and you, beloved”, for the first time in almost half an hour his words had the true taste of jealous.
“You are my wife and it is my business to keep flirty hybrids like him away from you. Well, if you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way, beloved”. Is the night getting unnaturally warmer or…
Oh no! When did he get this closer to her.
And how the hell she didn’t notice it for this long.
If not for the pitch dark night sky, she could actually feel herself blacking out.
“If it is Conner the one you have your problems with then why the hell did you make me come here?” To reveal that she may be married to the Ra’s of League of Assassin’s a year ago? Probably, yes.
“I thought you would never ask. Let’s say I am here to get a gift”
Right, she barely knew that she got married and now he wants a gift in the middle of a night?
“I don’t have a ring”, the words spilled out even before she could realize it.
May be she lost her brain just like Beast Boy.
“I don’t think it is mandatory for a married couple have to propose during anniversaries, beloved”, his breath flowed through her entire being warming up all her dark desires that might love to make him hers and only hers even if…
Stop. Stop right there Raven.    
“I mean, I don’t even have a ring and how could I be your wife when I don’t even have a ring”
Way to go Raven, what’s next a Priest?
“The dagger, Raven. It means a sealed bond in my heritage. A bond made between a husband and a wife, which you willing took to save the pathetic Titans a year ago in the League of Shadows base.” His voice grew more husky and his breathe drove her senses away as he nibbled at her ear lobe. She was supposed to be mad, she was supposed to blast him to pieces and scatter every inch of his being at different dimensions for revealing something as important as being married, but his tone - well, that’s definitely not helping.
“What now? You want me to quit being a Titan, take sides with you and go against them?”
“Baby steps, beloved. Baby steps”. His left hand toyed with the hem of her dress, further breaking the already half broken control towards her urging needs that pooled in very being.  
“Just a kiss and a promise to keep that coward Conner away from you will do”.  She could feel the cold air of the young night kissing her wide spread pale skin that already missed the warmth touch of the assassin.
“And if I resist?”
“You really think you could resist me, beloved? Since it is our anniversary I will be generous enough to make another request”. His eyes grew darker with every words as his katana slightly battered against the cold wall.
“How about blasting the Titans tower to the ground while that stupid Gar and Jaime are trying with their half-celled brains to defuse the bomb or how about giving black fire all the 18 ways to kill Kori like a true assassin in the middle of their fight right now in Kansas or how about giving Slade Wilson the true identity of Dick Grayson and his fellow bat clan or how about letting Conner suffer in the hands of Bizarre Superman, left alone to die by a Kryptonite stabbing.” He hummed the last few parts as he withdraw from the spot he previously stood.  
“On second thought how about all of the above?”
“You are kidding. I would have received an alert signal at least if one of these is happening right now”.
“You mean this?” Damian raised a small communicator from his pocket still humming like an undisturbed teenager enjoying his long drive to no destiny at all.
“Give it back”. She raised her hand trying to snatch the communicator but in vain.
“Did I forget to mention that you have to be a grown woman to snatch a stuff, beloved”. His eye brow arched itself up.
That’s it. She could bear all of his sarcasms, all of his threats and even all of his flirts but not even for the shake of Azar would she let this damn Demon Spawn comment on her height and hurt her pride in nothing more than mere seconds. That’s not going to happen. Not today.
Raven rose to her tip-toes grabbing Damian’s collar to support her in the process but accidentally twirled their legs and slipped right on top of him. Their lips were locked like the mere existence of one depends on the other, when Raven realized the state she has put herself into.
Yeah, that’s how you snatch a communicator from a tall guy, who threatens to blast your whole family.
She would be cheating herself the entire time if she hesitated to accept that she did like the Demon’s head for a reasonably long time now. But she is definitely not going to let her pride get hurt.
“So, you got your gift. Now defuse the bomb and un-mess every mess you made”
“And all it took was calling you - short”. Damian let an almost an inaudible chuckle escape his throat.
He pulled out the dagger from Raven’s waist band and seethed it properly. “Don’t hurt yourself playing with this doll, beloved”.
“My team…”, Raven question was cut short by Damian as he spoke.
“They are safe. For now”
BOOM…
From the frequency of the sound wave she could say that it was near the Titans Tower.
“Well, except for one I guess”
With one last peck on her lips he disappeared into the shadows as if he never existed a few minutes ago.
--
Thank Azar!
There was not a single scratch on the tower. Not even one. At least he kept few of his words.
But the real horror stroke her when she felt no living presence inside the tower.
“Umm.. Rae what are you doing up late in the night?”, Dick asked as he and the other Titans entered the tower with handful of shopping bags. “You are all fine?”. She will never spell it out loud but deep down she knew that she couldn’t stand their loss. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“Yeah, we are fine. It’s a little cold out there. But don’t worry we won’t catch a cold, Rae. If that’s what you are worried about”, Gar uttered with no care in the world as he glanced through the contents of the fridge.
“Where have you been?” was all she managed to ask when she realized that she wasn’t dreaming.
“We were out…”, Kori barely had a chance to finish when Raven added “Crime fighting?”
“Ah… shopping, Raven. I don’t think it is a custom on Earth to crime fight every time you step out into the public, is it Dick?”.
“Unless or otherwise you are in Gotham, no”, Dick replied as he loaded the fridge with the contents of the grocery bags.
“So, where is Conner?”, inquired Jaime as he entered the main hall. “Isn’t he in the tower?”, Kori added.
“There wasn’t anyone in the tower when I arrived”, Raven replied as a loud thud followed their conversation.
“Conner!”, Gar yelled as he reached him. The rest of the Titans followed by.
--
“What the hell happened dude?”, asked Gar as he tried to touch the bruise near his right eye.
“OUCH!”
“That’s just a small bruise, Conner. I have seen worse”, Dick replied while analyzing his wounds.
“And a broken wrist”, Conner added trying to rise his wounded hand but in vain.
“It’s just a minor injury, amigo. You will be alright as soon as the Sun’s back”, Jaime reassured him while attending to his wounds.
“Here, let me heal you”, Raven offered taking a step towards but the wound deepened as if it was being cut from inside out. Conner could barely resist the urge to break the table he sat on.
“Raven, is that a Kryptonite you are wearing?”, Dick pointed at the green stone that somehow perfectly settled around her neck.
“If that’s causing our flirty Superboy to yell like a mad man then it is definitely a Kent-repellent”, Jaime added.
“A kryptonite? Not again”, Conner banged his head against the wall as if that would make his day any better.
If you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way.
“Raven, I know you mean no harm but I don’t think Conner could take any more kryptonite today. So, would you mind…”, Gar tried to get rid of the kryptonite that adorned her neck.
“Here let me try”, Kori flared a small star bolt which seemed to have no effect on it either.
“It seems you have to stay away from Conner for a few days until we find a way to remove that thing off your neck. By the way, it seems to have no effect on you Raven. You may leave, we will take care of Conner”
Seems like he played a particular demon played his part well at keeping Raven away from Conner.
Raven made a short nod and walked towards her room. In the background, she could clearly hear the boys filling Conner with questions about the attack.
“So, was it Bizarre the reason behind this?”, Dick asked as he finished cleaning the wounds.
“No, it was a masked man with a Katana”, Conner replied.
“And you - a bullet proof being got this from a Katana?”, Gar’s curiosity reached its peak when Conner made Kryptonian curses under his breathe.
“Stop touching my wound, Gar”
“You call yourself a super but you can’t stand a broken wrist” Gar arched both of his eye brows wanting for a genuine explanation.
“I have not even once been injected, Pea-brain” was all Raven could hear, when she disappeared into her own shadows. 
                                                                 - Samuel Damian Fernandez
Hi, everyone! This is just a one shot, not a great one but worth giving a try. Like I have mentioned before English is my 8th priority language. So, if you find faults in my work just let me know. Also, share your thoughts on this one shot, so I may get an idea for future modifications. 
Punardarśaāya 😉 👋
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sexysilverstrider · 3 years ago
Text
Burning Ambition (Teppeilumi)
  Everything was dark.
  Stench of spit and blood filled the room. His vision was terrible blur, he could only make out faded images of the ceiling above. A gulp was attempted. A painful cringe was obtained. Breathing grew harsher, weaker. Heartbeat became slower, quieter.
  How amusing.
  As one lone figure lay breathless on the cot, a sudden smoke of black and deep red loomed next to him.
  Huh, was all the smoke hummed. Two slits formed on the entity, colours a demonic crimson. It witnessed the pitiful being. The other patients around it were fighting for their lives as well, completely unaware of the existence that had solidified next to the aging soldier.
  It had no mouth, yet a smile formed inside the flickering smoke.
  The poor soldier was on his last seconds. Once he drew out his fifth breath, all that would be left was a disgusting corpse.
  One breath.
  You are nothing but a pitiful mortal… A silent echo whirred into the soldier’s ears. The shadow hovered closer, looking down at the dying man.
  Two breaths.
  You lack motivation. The two slits widened, crazed as it glared at him. You lack perseverance. And for that, you do not deserve my attention. The darker line below the slits shook, cracked to what one could guess was an eerie smile.
  Three breaths.
  However, It’s ‘smile’ widened, you attract the traveler’s interest. The shadow tilted slightly. The man wheezed weakly.
  Four breaths.
  And I—The shadow reached out for his right hand—am interested in the traveler.
  Five—
----------
  This couldn’t be possible.
  “O-Oi!” Paimoun shouted, body floating as fast as it can to catch up. “Wait—Wait up!” she wheezed, one tiny hand reaching for her fast friend. And yet Lumine didn’t hear her. She couldn’t. For her mind was wholly clouded by the shocking news that was brought up by Gorou.
  “Her Excellency saw it with her own eyes and even did a full check-up on him.” Gorou’s words shrilled clear like a siren. “She even used her healing abilities to ensure that…you know…he’s not an undead or possessed.” His statement only made her run faster and faster.
  Minutes felt eternal, and when Lumine finally arrived at the headquarters in Sangonomiya, she wasted no time and slammed the doors open.
  The scene she made caused shock and confusion to both soldiers and locals alike. All eyes were on her, but a pair of dazzling golden starlight were on the man at the far end of the headquarters.
  Him.
  “Teppei!”
  Once his name escaped her lips. Once those warm brown eyes met her own. Lumine could feel her legs give out and her body flashing forward.
  Even with a gift bestowed upon him, never would he have anticipated the traveler’s tackle.
  “Oof!” His body was thrown aback, yet awareness and newfound strength allowed him to stand his ground instead of falling on his butt. Arms spread open. Eyes widened immediately. Legs shaking still from the impact, Teppei quickly tried to straighten his back with someone hugging him for dear life.
  “You’re alive…”
  Her voice was muffled, breathing brushed against the material of his shirt. “I—what?” Bafflement still bursting in his mind, he tilted his head downwards. All he saw was a sight of golden blonde. All he smelled was a scent of warmth and wind.
  “You’re alive!” Without warning, Lumine snapped her head upwards, meeting his shocked gaze. “You’re alive!” Statement now booming with baffled laughter, Lumine once more nuzzled her face into his chest.
  The scent was tickling his nose. Burning red in his cheeks.
  “I uh—” Realization kicked in; they were very, very close. “I-I am!” Words sputtered into a stutter, Teppei gave two thumbs up with arms still spread to the side.
  Laughter bubbled within her chest, tickling his own.
  He prayed that she didn’t hear his manic heartbeat.
  “I’m so glad…”
  The laughter was short-lived, however, as her voice lulled to a whisper. “Traveler?”
  “So…so glad…” Her hug tightened. Voice now broken to a slow, woeful murmur. “I’m glad…” A strain scraped through gritted teeth. Golden eyes were squeezed shut to prevent a fearful sight.
  A short gasp popped her lips to feel his embrace.
  “I’m glad too…” His voice was a gentle whisper, meek and shaky. “Very, very glad…”
  Cheek rested against his chest, Lumine pursed her lips and released a heavy sigh. “Mmm…” His arms felt hesitant around her petite body at first, but fear dissolved into relief once she felt his hug tighten.
  “Aww!”
  Relief, however, exploded into wild embarrassment once they realized they weren’t alone.
  Immediately both broke their hug, faces now flushed red and hearts thumping wildly against their ribcages. A pair of golden and brown targeted towards the two people standing before them. One had his face covered and body shaking in silent amusement. The other had her hands clapped and positioned adorably next to her cheek.
  “I’m so happy to see that smile back on your face, traveler!” Kokomi gleamed, her smile sincere yet laced with a hint of mirth. Gorou still had his face covered, though it seemed that his fit of giggles had ceased—for now.
  Ah, what a fool she made herself to be.
  “W-Well,” Trying her best to dig out of her hole she had made, Lumine straightened her posture and cocked her head upwards. “Why wouldn’t I be? To know that my friend is alive is more than enough to make me—”
  “How dare you left Paimon at the back!”
  “Ack!”
  Alas, before Lumine could save face, she wasn’t able to realize and stop Paimon from crashing into her.
----------
  In all honesty, Teppei still thought that he had died and gone to heaven.
  “It’s…real.” Tap, tap. One finger gently tapped onto the glass of the Vision case. A simmering shape of fire burned brilliantly inside the object. The longer he held it, the more he could feel warmth sipping into his body. One hand holding the Vision, he flipped his other hand left and right.
  There were no wrinkles. No drained colours of deathly blue. The same warmth could be felt into his palm. The same pulse could be felt inside his veins.
  “Still reeling it in?”
  Her voice was a brilliant beacon that lit him up. “Uh—yeah!” The answer stuttered sheepishly, Teppei looked at the traveler. Her smile was ever present. Her eyes gleamed gloriously like stars that he often basked in awe.
  Those stars now shined closely to him.
  “I just…” It’s been an hour since their reunion. After witnessing a scolding from Paimon to Lumine and apologizing endlessly to Lady Kokomi and General Gorou, both he and the traveler decided to rest by the lake near the headquarters. Peace wasn’t an option yet, however, as the tiny, floating being started shooting endless questions that he still found no answers to.
  “You have a Vision now!? You’re a Pyro user?! Holy moly you can control fire! You got blessed by the Gods! How? When? And you look like you’re back to your real age! You’re no longer a withering, dying old man!”
  It was truthfully amazing how Lumine handled Paimon on a daily basis.
  After trying his best to give an explanation that might work, Paimon finally reached an understanding and let him breathe.
  That, or she was hungry which made her fly off to the kitchen to recharge herself for more questions later.
  Either way, Teppei was grateful for the silence.
  Now all that’s left were him and the traveler. And while he knew she had just as many questions as her small friend, he was just glad that she allowed him to recollect his thoughts first.
  It had been a good 20 minutes. Reality still hadn’t set in.
  “This is mine…right?” Once again he looked at her, eyes clouded in hope and fear. Will it disappear? Am I actually dreaming or dead and this is just my mind giving me one last mercy? These questions bounced in his mind from the moment he woke up from the agonizing slumber. “It’s—I’m not holding someone’s missing Vision, right…?”
  “Teppei.”
  His body shivered briefly to hear such a gentle tone.
  Pupils dilated to see her hand, small yet callous, cupping his left hand. Quickly he looked at her again, not realizing that he had dropped his gaze back at the Pyro Vision.
  Her smile was radiant as the sun.
  “That is yours.” Reassurance sang melodiously into his ears. Her fingers curled his own, cupping the warm Vision closer. “You have a Vision.” Distance became a mere hindrance to her, so Lumine scooted closer. It was then that she saw his hair, dark as the day she first met him. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes shined brightly. No wrinkles cursed his skin. No fades of pale blue scrapped his face.
  He looked back to how he was before. Better even.
  Giddiness bubbled within her again. Though caution and confusion loomed inside her brain at the possible impossible, Lumine decided to gulp those fears down first and rejoiced at his living.
  Living. Alive.
  “You’ve received favours from the Gods.”
  It took a while for Teppei to get used to his new powers.
  While those words stung her tongue, clawed through her throat, what matters to her right now was that he was alive.
----------
  One couldn’t hone it so magnificently in a span of a day after receiving a Vision. Though Lumine wouldn’t know; she technically never gotten one.
  But as a month rolled by, and after rejoicing with his friends and teammates, Teppei easily bounced back as Captain of Herring I. Excitement fuelled his veins once he finally got the chance to wear his new uniform. A small logo in shape of a herring was stitched at the back, bare and open so proudly for everyone to see. His teammates now somewhat revered him as a miracle who came back from the jaws of death. And while a part of him felt bashful and slightly proud of the statement, Teppei knew he couldn’t gloat—at least, not too much.
  This was a gift by the Gods, after all. He was grateful. Truly. Whether or not the Vision he received granted him what was once stolen by the Delusion, Teppei knew this was something that shouldn’t be taken so lightly. Or rudely.
  A few more weeks flew by, and as a Vision bearer, he was now given a special task to train and hone his powers. And while that didn’t seem like a problem—in fact, Teppei was more than excited to train with General Gorou and Kazuha—he did feel the nerves kicking in when Lumine volunteered to join in the practice as well.
  “Alright!” Her right hand reached forward; immediately, her sword appeared seemingly out of nothing. “Show me what you got, partner!”
  Ba-dump!
  He really needed to have a talk with his heart later about the traveler calling him that.
  “Right!” Enthusiasm and anxiety spiralled together, Teppei hovered hands close to each other. Slowly, he tried to manifest the weapon into his hands. Apparently, according to General Gorou, Vision bearers were able to dissolve their weapons with their powers, enabling an easy access to it especially when they’re in a pinch. When Teppei heard of this fun fact, he was over the moon; what a very coincidentally accessible way!
  However, it was easier said than done.
  It took many, many, many tries. And finally, after a…few failed attempts, he was able to conjure up his lance.
  It took a few seconds—better than a few minutes, Teppei figured—the weapon finally materialized in his hands. “Got it!” Like a puppy, he beamed. Flickers of flame swerved around the lane, yet Teppei felt no pain.
  If anything, he felt elated.
  Never one to give up or step down, he concentrated again. This time, patience and practice showed its results as ribbons of fire wrapped around the lance. They decorated every so prettily, tickling his arm. Careful as to not position his lance near anyone besides his opponent, he posed a battle stance.
  “Ready when you are—” Brown eyes stared at her. His battle posture ready. His heartbeat sang madly. “—partner!”
----------
  Sometimes, he needed to remind himself that his own flames couldn’t technically hurt him.
  It was amazing. Jaw-dropping. Stunning even that he could stare at it for days. The tiny flicker of flames danced on his palms, hypnotizing him with such a sight. He curled one finger. Then another and another. His fingers went thru the fire. It gave such a tickling warmth, soothing both his palms and heart.
  “Heh…” A quiet chuckle peeped through smiling lips. Sitting alone by the lake, he slowly curled his fists, extinguishing the flames within. It tickled, he thought. Once again, he opened his hands, revealing clear skin that bore flesh, not bones.
  His heartbeat raced. Excitement. Fear. All whirled in his mind. Silently, he took a deep breath, then exhaled carefully as if relishing on each breath that coursed through his throat.
  He was alive. Living.
  Everything could change in a blink.
  Bringing that reminder close to his heart, Teppei nodded once. A new resolution formed firm. Stronger. Clearer. If this truly was a gift by the Gods. If this was truly a test he needed to fulfil and succeed, then he must carry on.
  Yes. One fist raised in the air. A smile curled confidently under the shine of the moonlight. I can do this!
  As one man basked on his goal, one woman stood from afar, hiding behind a tree and gazing at him with eyes a woeful glow and lips a tight purse.
  “Gift by the Gods.”
  The words sent a shiver down her spine. Burned fire in her chest.
  Gratitude burst brightly every time she saw him. But Lumine knew: not everything came without a price.
  The Archons she had met so far were nice, welcoming—although Ei had a rough start when they first met, both were slowly moving forward together to fix the future. But that was the thing that concerned Lumine the most.
  Not everyone would be sensible and sweet like Venti and Zhongli. And even with them, after having met Dainsleif and the unfortunate reunion with her dear brother, Lumine had to keep her guard up.
  He looked so happy. So alive.
  Ba-dump…
  One hand placed where her heart ached.
----------
  Some Vision bearers honed their powers until they were able to conjure up new skills. Some were able to form powerful shields. Some were able to heal and cure. Some even had the power to freeze even the mightiest of hilichurl chieftains.
  In Teppei’s case, he would soon find out that skills were sometimes found or created when one was put in a desperate situation.
  “Watch out!”
  All happened too fast. The moment he saw a samurai plunging his way towards her, Teppei could feel the wind and rain against his face. He saw Lumine turning around to face the enemy. He saw Lumine swinging her sword in hopes that it slices the samurai before his own could slice her.
  While he was not as fast as the traveler, he was quick enough to reach out for her.
  Quickly he tugged her left arm. Taken aback by the sudden force, Lumine felt her body being pulled backwards. Everything happened in mere blinks. Panic sinking in, Teppei stomped one foot forward—
  FWOOM!
  CLANG! CRASH!!
  A burst of fire shaped around them. The ringing clash of steel against solid fire reverberated amidst the heavy rain.
  The impact clearly took the samurai by surprise. The newly-formed shield ironically took Teppei’s and Lumine;s breaths away.
  Golden met brown. Stupor froze their body still. The shield was still active, still enveloped around them like a dome of flames. Lumine gawked at the tall captain, awe and bewilderment being her method of communication. It seemed Teppei understood her language, for both now shared their speechless conversation under the brilliant dome.
  “Um…” he gulped. “You alright?”
  She blinked once. Twice. “Yeah!” Laughter burst out amidst the stupor. “I’m fine!” One to easily register reality quickly around her, Lumine readied her battle stance again. The shield around them burned brighter. As eyes inspected the area around her, she realized that the same samurai that attacked just now started to stagger and stumble. His sword sheathed into the ground. Though donned in a helmet, Lumine could see him crouch slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath.
  He didn’t get hit by anything else after that. And the impact wasn’t as severe. If Lumine remembered correctly, the samurai only crashed against Teppei’s shield—
  Another realization jolted in. And her guess was swiftly proven correct as she felt an aura of strength pumping into her veins.
  It would seem Teppei would be excited to learn his newfound ability.
  For now, as both captains locked eyes and nodded, Lumine decided to break the great news later after they finished this battle.
----------
  Sangonomiya was truly a breath-taking place.
  Giant shells that stood proudly in the center of the land. Waterfalls that shined and gleamed every time it hit the surface. Even the lake was a like a beautiful mirror, revealing clear images of those who look upon it.
  However, as beautiful as the place was, it did have one flaw when it came to nightly weather.
  Maybe Ei was feeling at peace after their little tour, which would explain the soothing wind that blew past her. And while Lumine was happy to know that that might be case, unfortunately, her body would say otherwise.
  “Hey there, traveler!”
  Her head turned at the voice. Golden eyes caught the sight of the lone soldier who kept dancing in her mind lately. “Hi,” was her reply, short and sweet, yet enough to ring a bell of joy at his presence.
  Her bliss was a reflection to his.
  “May I join in?” His directed his hand at the empty spot next to her. A giggle was heard. A shaken head was seen. Smile curling swirls at the corners, Teppei took a seat on the bench. “Where’s your flying friend?”
  “Sleeping.” Another short reply, but not curt. Her head turned to one of the tents in the camp. “She had a big dinner so decided to call it a night.”
  “I see.” Brown eyes glanced at the tent, then back at her. “Why are you still up, though?” Curiosity led him to the question, but he didn’t realize how rude he might have sounded before he could stop himself. Teppei then flustered to see her eyes widen, probably offended, probably hurt that he thought she was some sort of child.
  “W-Wait, no I mean—” Both hands raised and waved. “I was just curious since we kinda had a long day and—”
  Laughter ceased him from making a further fool of himself.
  “It’s okay, Teppei.” One hand that stayed near her mouth slowly lowered down to her lap. “I understand. I just don’t feel sleepy yet.” The smile on her face grew genuine. It always seemed to be whenever he was around. “I just want to enjoy the night a little longer. I have a lot of energy compared to Paimon, anyways.”
  The joke got through him. A laughter was given as a response.
  “If she heard you, she would be mad.”
  “Which is why I’m saying it to you.”
  How light her chest felt whenever she talked to him.
  The conversation came smoothly. Teppei talked about his daily task as captain. Lumine responded with topics of her commissions and part-time role as captain as well. While the matter with Raiden Shogun had been resolved, there were still some internal conflicts that required attention. Lumine knew it would take some time to figure out a way to get to Sumeru, so she figured she might as well stay in Inazuma for a while. Who knows? Maybe she would find more information about her brother—
  “Achoo!”
  “Traveler?”
  A sneeze broke their conversation and her thoughts. “O-Oh,” she sniffed, “sorry. It just gets a bit cold in Sangonomiya that I kinda forgot to bring a coat.” Hands rubbed her prickling arms. Yet she didn’t feel like getting up. Not now. Lumine enjoyed talking to Teppei. The stress in Inazuma sometimes got to a point where it was unbearable, and the Herring I captain was one of the people who was able to lighten the burden in her chest.
  It seemed Teppei had the same idea about her as well.
  “Oh…” Thoughts whirled in his mind. Suddenly, an idea flickered in seconds. “I can go get a coat for you if you like! Don’t want my partner to be sick now, huh.” He laughed, cheerful and honest. Hands pressed on the bench, he started to get up. “I’ll be right back—”
  “Wait.”
  His body froze at the feel of her hand around his fingers.
  Brown and gold looked at their hands. Brown and gold then looked at each other.
  “Ah!”
  In unison, they gasped. Lumine immediately retracted her hand while Teppei dumbly plopped himself back onto the bench.
  “You don’t have to!” Heat kissed her cheeks as their roles were now reversed. “I’m not that cold. And besides, ever since you started sitting down, it actually feels warmer—”
  Foolish was an act that bounced back between the two.
  Realization kicked in. Fast. It was obvious in the blown pupils of his eyes. It was clear in the beautiful burst of red in her face.
  Sadly, Teppei was quite quick to catch up on things too. “R-Really?”
  Slim fingers curled slowly. Hands were still raised near eye-level. “Well…” Ah fuck it, she thought. “Really.” She figured there was no harm in being honest. Maybe some shame. “Maybe it’s because of your Vision, but you feel a bit…warmer than normal people.” Thankfully, she had seen and faced this sort of phenomenon with Amber and Xiangling. Although she technically had never hugged Diluc, the man did once offer her his jacket. And wearing it felt warm and toasty, so that was good enough research for her.
  His short laughter brought her attention back to him.
  “I do feel warmer than usual ever since I woke up from that long sleep.” A sheepish reply accompanied the growing red in his cheeks. “But I make sure this time that it wasn’t anything dangerous. Her Excellency said that it’s normal for a Pyro user like me to have some extra body heat.” White teeth gleamed beneath the moon’s glow. “You can say that I’m like a walking heater.”
  More laughter joined in, but it was one-sided this time.
  “Then…may I sit closer?”
  The laughter died down immediately, bafflingly.
  He couldn’t believe what she said. She couldn’t believe what she said.
  “If that’s alright with you…?” The question was timid, sheepish, bursting with shame. Lumine was ready to bolt off the bench and excuse herself for the night. Why would she ask him that, she wondered? The man was of pure heart ever since she met him. He was an honest friend, an enthusiastic one at that. Like most of the people she had met, Teppei’s intentions were true and genuine which became the very reason she was getting close to him—
  “I…don’t mind.”
  The wild tornado of feelings in her mind died down once she heard his reply.
  Those golden eyes were no match for the stars above. “Really?”
  Excitement was real in her tone. The sight of pure joy made his heart burst anew. “Really…” He sounded sheepish, bashful, yearning. One breath. Maybe two. Once he reassured himself that he was calm and collected, Teppei scooted closer. “It’s the least I can do for my partner.”
  She always hated how her heart cracked to hear that term.
  Sorrow was short-lived, hidden behind layers and layers of relief that she practiced over the centuries. “Thank you.”
  He always loved how his heart skipped a beat to see her smile.
  Slowly, the distance between then shrunk. Only an inch teased between their pinkie fingers. In seconds, Lumine could feel the warmth—his warmth. It truly felt soothing. Calming. Yet it also gave her a tiny surge of strength that tickled her stomach. She loved it. She adored it.
  She only wished she had more time to cherish it.
  “Thank you, Teppei…” Her voice mellowed. “For showing me around the Resistance. For helping me out in battles.” Silence was his response. A welcome for her to say further. “For pushing me to end this terrible Vision Hunt Decree.”
  His left fingers clenched rigidly next to her.
  “For coming back alive and well…” Her voice started to get slower. “For inspiring me…” Her eyes started to get heavier. “For cheering me up when I feel…down…” Her head bobbed forward. “For…” A yawn broke out, “being there…”
  Body acting out of reflex, Lumine leaned her head against his left arm.
  Her actions stunned him back to reality. As she talked to him—as if she was talking to herself—Teppei felt hypnotized. Brown eyes were fixed on her like trance. Healthy heartbeat skipped at the sound of her melodious voice. It wasn’t until he felt her body so close to him that Teppei almost jumped with face full of red.
  Silence hummed around them.
  The captain looked at her, entranced and bewitched by such a sight. “That’s a lot of thanks, partner…” Voice a shy murmur, he brought his free hand up to his face. A long sigh escaped his lungs. His right hand remained on half of his face as he stared forward.
  His whole body felt as if he was burning.
  Brown eyes glanced at the sleeping traveler next to him.
  But honestly, His left fingers twitched, stretched until his hand held her right hand, it doesn’t feel bad.
  The mad drumming of his heart echoed in his ears. The soothing sound of her voice kissed heat in his cheeks and neck.
  It doesn’t feel bad at all.
  “Sweet dreams, Lumine…” His left hand gently squeezed her right hand. His face slowly leaned closer to her to memorize every detail, to cherish every moment he had with this fated encounter.
  Ah, he thought, smile soft and shaky, I’m in trouble…
END
95 notes · View notes
floralseokjin · 4 years ago
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final sleigh drabble #1
❛ a few hours later...❜
original oneshot here // drabble index here 
kim seokjin x reader  smut, comedy  8,156 words (🥴)
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Rushing to the door as you heard the low knock against the wood, you took a few deep breaths before yanking it open, knowing what was about to happen once Seokjin stepped inside. 
He smiled as you came into view, a tiny one that seemed to round his cheeks something crazy. Something inside you went a little gooey. He was dressed in a thin black sweater that hugged his body, a basic silver chain hanging around the neckline. You were half expecting him to turn up in another one of his Christmas jumpers — the one he had been wearing earlier was still embedded inside your brain, but mainly because of what you’d been doing... Seven hours ago you’d thrown caution to the wind and participated in something that could 1000% get you fired. Although... It had been your idea, so. 
“Hey,” you said with a smile, feeling momentarily a little awkward. This was no innocent visit after all. He was here to have sex with you. Please, he’d begged. Let me fuck you. The memory of his words were enough to tinge your cheeks a darker shade. 
“Hey,” he greeted, taking the first step inside. For a brief second his face appeared not so far from yours and you wondered if he was about to kiss you. You had kissed with abandon earlier on in the day after all. But instead, his lips flickered up into a smirk. He was amused as he spoke. “Pizza guy just pulled up too.” 
“Oh.” It took a moment for your brain to process what he was telling you. “Let me grab my purse.” 
You toddled off, into your living room and through to the kitchen, leaving him by the open door. Jerk, you thought, realising he’d been messing with you, or at least, that’s what you thought. Who knew, and you weren’t about to ask him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 
When you got back to your entryway Seokjin had his wallet out in front of the pizza delivery guy, fishing for bills. “What are you doing?” You demanded. 
Seokjin shrugged. “I’ll pay, it’s no big deal.” 
“No way.” You thrust inside your purse, eager to beat him. 
“Y/N.” It sounded as if he was half warning you, voice low. 
“It was my idea, I’m paying.” 
Inviting him over just for sex seemed a little... crude, for lack of a better word, so suggesting pizza helped soften the intent – in your eyes. 
Seokjin looked at you incredulously and when he realised you weren’t going to give in, he sighed loudly. “Let’s go dutch then, I am eating half after all.” 
“Fine.” You weren’t happy about it, but fine. 
You both handed your cash to the delivery guy who had watched the whole exchange wordlessly. You took the boxes from him and waited as he counted out your change. 
“Here,” he said, reaching his hand out to pass it to Seokjin, who shook his head. 
“She can have it.” 
The guy changed direction, holding his arm out as he waited for you to take it (hands full, mind you...). 
“No, you can have it,” you told Seokjin. 
He turned his head, dismissing you. “I don’t want it.” 
You choked out a noise of frustration. However “gooey” you’d been feeling five minutes ago had well and truly disappeared now. Nothing had changed, despite what had happened earlier, he was still an annoying ass when he wanted to be. 
“Can someone just take it?” The delivery guy exclaimed, causing you to startle. “I have five other pizzas getting cold.” 
“Fine,” you hissed, displeased by his attitude. Yes, okay, you were wasting his time but no need to be so rude about it. “Put it on the box.” You glanced at Seokjin, seeing him try to hold back his laughter. That just annoyed you more. 
“Wash your hands,” you ordered him as soon as the mannerless delivery guy left. 
He slipped his sneakers off and followed you into the kitchen, stopping halfway as you dropped the pizza boxes onto your coffee table. He washed his hands in silence, absentmindedly looking around the room, as if he was getting familiar with the place again, and then it dawned on you; he’d been here before. Last weekend, after your drunken make out session that had resulted in him packing you off to bed with a glass of water... Your memories were still hazy, but it was something. 
As you washed your hands too, you noticed Seokjin watching down at you with a smile that had you feeling a little uneasy. “What?” 
Maybe this was a bad idea. 
“Nothing,” he shrugged, but his eyes twinkled more than usual, the last syllable bubbling in his throat as he held back another laugh. 
You opened your mouth, ready to tell him something. You didn’t know what, maybe to shut up? But then he shifted, moving in one swift motion to lean in and kiss you. 
You made a small shocked noise as he pressed his lips against yours, eyes wide open even though his were fluttered closed, but soon enough you relaxed, settling into his touch as he cupped your hips, yours reaching to grip under his elbows. 
He pulled back suddenly, grinning. “This is the best. All I have to do is kiss you and you shut up.” 
Huh? “You can’t weaponise kissing, Seokjin,” you scowled. 
“Wanna bet?” And he was on you once more, you, miraculously quiet again. His mouth was a little more eager now, presses harder as your lips glided together, and your mind was quickly becoming cloudy. Kissing Seokjin was a little addictive. You couldn’t hate it even if you tried. 
“Mhm.” He groaned a little against you, sending your lips tingling. “I swear I just experienced the slowest 3 hours of my life.” 
You had to agree. From half 5 to now, you’d been practically counting down the minutes. 
“Actually,” he added as an afterthought. “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since we had to stop.” 
You couldn’t help but smile, fingers lifting to play with the chain around his neck. Since when did he accessorise, and why was it so hot? 
“Well, you’re here now,” you said, your voice a little softer than you’d expected it to be, but whatever, Seokjin wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him. You’d leave it slide. 
“Come,” he jerked his head in the direction of your living room, taking your hands in his. “Pizza first, you’ll need your energy.” 
The wink he gave you was completely uncalled for. Your legs instantly felt a little shaky.
.
.
You spent maybe an hour eating and chatting a little. It was a little strange to be having a proper conversation with Seokjin, in light of what you both had been this past six months, but when you thought about it, you’d shared numerous conversations ever since you’d began the Christmas party planning, so it wasn’t too bizarre. Actually, it was nice. You felt less nervous about the obvious direction tonight would soon go. 
You scrolled Netflix, choosing Brooklyn Nine-Nine as background noise as you were in the middle of binging the series and it was something light and funny to fill the sometimes small silences that fell between you. Only, Seokjin informed you he’d already watched all available seasons three times and that meant he could recite any given episode on cue. It was slightly endearing watching him go, if not mildly annoying too, but whatever, he was enjoying himself. 
You didn’t know who started kissing who soon enough, it might very well have been you. One minute you were sneaking looks his way, checking out his biceps in that sinful sweater and the next you were wrapped up against his body, tongues furiously crashing together. The line had been crossed once again, only this time things were leading somewhere even more exciting. 
You were ready for this. You’d showered before he’d arrived, made sure there were no stray hairs poking out of random places on your body – because this afternoon had taken you by surprise, but now you were prepared. You had your sexiest lingerie on, a black lace two piece that you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. It seemed to show more skin than cover it, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You’d even painted your god damn toenails. You wanted to knock his proverbial socks off. 
Your phone was on silent, no room for interruptions no matter whose house was on fire. Ana had already been informed of your dick appointment, and while her first instinct had been to gloat, you’d stopped her right in her tracks. You didn’t want to hear it and you didn’t want to hear from her tonight, because she often liked to call you when she was bored – very often. 
Tonight you were going to get laid and nothing was going to get in your way. It had been a long six months, and yes, it was sex with Seokjin, but honestly, that just made it better. You thought back to this afternoon, how good it had felt to be touched by him and how hard he’d made you cum. You didn’t want to jinx things, but you had very high hopes for tonight... 
“This afternoon feels like a dream,” he confessed against your mouth, taking the moment to pull you onto his lap, his hands snaking their way down to ass to give it a firm squeeze, rolling you into his crotch. 
You let out a throaty groan, mouth open, giving him perfect access to lick into it, stealing your tongue to suck the muscle gently. You clutched tightly to the nape of his neck, catching some of the small hairs and he moaned. You were under the impression Seokjin liked having his hair tugged... 
“It definitely happened,” you grinned as he pulled away, and you took the opportunity to nibble on his plump bottom lip. 
“I don’t know, you’re going to have to remind me...” He gave a throaty chuckle, nudging his hips and you felt the very obvious bulge in his jeans. 
“What do you think I’m doing right now?” You laughed at a sudden memory, placing your hands on Seokjin’s chest to ease up. “No one had a clue.” 
He held your wrists, keeping you to him as he laughed along. “Not even Jungkook. He was so oblivious.” 
“Even with the lame excuse with the cake.” 
“Hey,” he whined, “in my defence, I panicked.” 
Humming, you leaned in to press against his lips, pulling back before he could part them. “Yeah, we probably should’ve thought of a reason beforehand.” Terrible lack of judgement on your part. 
“Do you think?” Seokjin asked rhetorically, impatient as he lunged to kiss you, clasping your arms tight to your side to keep you still until they strayed, caressing your sides, ghosting the sides of your breasts. Your skin felt electric, despite the layers that blocked his touch. 
You squealed as he gripped your hips, finding your back flush with the sofa cushions in an instant. Seokjin liked to throw his strength around a lot too it seemed. Not that you were complaining, it was hot, and you spread your legs, letting him nestle between them as his mouth found yours again. You clutched at his shoulders, gasping into the kiss from the sheer want you were feeling. 
“Been waiting so long to get my hands on this body,” he grunted against you; leaving you wondering if he meant all day, or longer? The way he was tugging at your mouth with his made you want to believe it was the latter... Ridiculous, but maybe... 
Hands riding up your shirt as you moaned in agreement, he made goosebumps appear against your stomach, his fingers glided along the hot skin, and then, suddenly, they were on the buttons of your jeans, fiddling in haste. 
Anything more was wasting time, and your stomach leaped with anticipation, knowing you didn’t need to wait much longer. Soon he’d be fucking you. You were beside yourself.
An exasperated sigh stole your attention and you felt Seokjin move, kneeling between your legs, sofa cushions dipping with the weight as he yanked at the waistband of your jeans, a groan leaving him now. 
“Why do you insist on wearing sex proof clothing?” 
You used your elbows to sit up a little, narrowing your eyes at his dramatics. “They’re jeans, Seokjin. Hardly difficult to take off.” Yes, admittedly there were a few more buttons than usual but they were simple to undo. You reached down, swatting his hands out the way to unfasten them. “There. See.” 
You watched his bottom lip stick out slightly, his voice small and annoyed as he spoke. “I wanted to do that.” 
“Shut up,” you scoffed lightly, grabbing his arms to tug him back to you. You went to kiss him but he was moving you again, hooking his hands around you waist to prop you up. 
His mouth found the crook of your neck, half pinning you to the sofa as his right hand slipped into your jeans, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers found your clit above your underwear, rubbing you firmly a few times before he slid down to your opening, feeling and hearing how wet you’d already become. It had soaked through your panties no issue at all.   
Seokjin let out a tight grunt as he felt it, lifting his hand to bypass the lace and feel you for real. It was pretty restricted down there, your jeans still snug around your hips but he made it work, rubbing your whole mound, spreading your arousal. 
“I can’t believe I’m going to fuck you...” He murmured, although his voice wasn’t particularly soft, more thick with lust. He was sucking on your earlobe, working out you liked that very much by now and you struggled to gain your bearings. “Be inside you...” 
“Mhmm,” you moaned in agreement, the noise breaking in half when you felt him insert a finger inside of you. 
Again, room was tight and even though he couldn’t finger you like he wanted he still made it feel amazing – or probably you were just too far gone now. Everything he was doing was driving you wild. You dragged your hands up and down his torso, clinging onto any muscle you came across. 
“I swear you haven’t felt nothing yet,” he informed you, mouth tight to your jaw and your moans turned into mild tugs for breath if anything, your head falling back against the edge of the sofa. “Jiin–“ 
He paused his kisses, his hand following suit trapped in your underwear. “Jin?” He repeated, tilting his head back to meet your eyes, his left eyebrow ever so slightly lifting. “Why did you call me that?” 
What was he going on about? You were hot and desperate and here he was suddenly questioning you. “It’s your name, isn’t it?” 
He looked mildly concerned. “You’ve never called me that before.” 
You breathed out a confused laugh. “Am I not allowed? Everyone else calls you it.” 
His expression grew softer, sincerity pooling in his words. “You’re not everyone else though. I love it when you call me Seokjin.” 
You had to admit you were a little speechless. You knew in the past you’d never used the shortened version of his name because you refused to be friendly with him like everyone else. ‘Seokjin’ held a distance between you, or so you’d thought... In reality it had become something special between you both... 
“Fine,” you whispered, pushing your hips into his hand as you moaned lightly, catching his eyes. “Seokjiin.”
He found that funny – you both did, laughing together before you lifted a hand to play with his necklace, giving him a small smile. “Wanna go to my room now?”
You lead him by the hand all the way and he followed you eagerly, eyes hungry. You switched on the lamp by your bed, and safe inside your room he got a little distracted, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar setting, as if he was soaking it all in, but that only lasted for a little while, something, or someone, far more interesting needing his attention. His gaze found you stood at the foot of your bed. 
You followed the hand that tugged at his crotch and noticed the now incredibly visible tent inside his jeans. Your gut lurched as he strode towards you. “Come here,” he breathed, reaching for you, and just like that his lips were on yours again. Somehow you ended up in his arms again, his hands firmly cupping your ass as you clung on, moaning into his mouth as your enjoyment started to reach breaking point. 
You squealed out his name when you felt him lift his knees to the bed, dropping you down to cage you under his body. 
“I got you. Relax,” he chuckled, finding your reaction amusing as you squeezed your fingers into his biceps. A low noise emitted from his throat as he nosed at your neck, mumbling into your skin, “I love feeling you touch me.” 
Your heartbeat skyrocketed, sure he could feel your pulse against his lips and you moaned a little too loudly when you felt his teeth bite down on the flesh, continuing his descent down to your collarbones and chest before it became too much and began to tickle you. 
“You’re really finding that ticklish?” He asked curiously, lifting his head to catch a look at your face. 
You nodded, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you stroked down his arms, a little pleased now that you knew it drove him crazy. 
He smirked down at you, his eyes near black. It totally altered his face – his whole demeanour actually. “Do you like a little pain, Y/N?”
He had to see the mild shock on his face, but you quickly composed yourself. Where had that come from? His mouth seemed to run wild when he was turned on, if the storage room was anything to go by, and you found yourself enjoying it immensely. You hooked your hands around his neck as you sat up and he eased away, kneeling straighter. Your teeth reached to nip his bottom lip. “Depends on what kind,” you purred as he hissed at the sensation. 
He watched you lean back, never taking his eyes off you as you removed your arms from his neck to pull your shirt over your head. Immediately he stood up, his sweater gone in one swift motion as he dropped it at his feet. You soaked in the view, his torso toned, chest firm. The silver chain hung around his neck, patches of skin flush, revealing his evident arousal. 
He tilted his head and smirked. “Like what you see?”
You rolled your eyes. “Cocky much?” But yes, yes you did. 
He snorted, laughing pretty loudly as he knelt back on the mattress. “I’m just messing around.” 
You couldn’t help but touch him, your hands travelling up his body and across his chest as he crawled over you. He grunted as your lips met and you kissed one another hungrily, more eager now than ever. His hands grazed the cups of your bra and no more than a few moments later he was on one breast, licking and sucking at your nipple, quickly soaking the lace. You moaned loudly, the sensation sending you partially shaky until you had to hold the back of his head, rooting yourself in fear of falling backwards. 
His left hand travelled around your back, fingers fumbling with the strap of your bra. “Can I?” He asked, and you strained out a yes. 
He broke away from your nipple as he used his other hand to help hook you free. The straps fell lose against your arms and he tugged at the middle of your bra to remove it entirely. His eyes ate you up before cupping the soft flesh in his palms, jaw slack as he flicked his eyes up to yours. 
“You have the prettiest tits.” 
Slightly abashed by his words but turned on by the way his thumbs rubbed circles against your sensitive nipples, you found yourself chuckling. “That’s good to know.” 
“No, really,” he half-awed, reaching to kiss you again. “You’re just... perfect.” 
He sounded so sincere it shocked you, made you unsure what to respond. Not that you could anyway, his tongue down your throat again, his body pressed against yours as your urge for him continued to grow. 
You were thankful when you felt his hands tug at the waistband of your jeans. “I need to get you fucking naked,” he muttered against your shoulder. You were unable to keep track of his mouth, he was kissing every inch of bare skin he found. 
You lifted your ass off the bed, helping him shimmy the fabric down and over your ass before they became jammed at your thighs. Okay, maybe skinny jeans had been a bad idea... He got them down to your knees with quite a struggle, leaning back to yank them off the rest of the way. He nearly fell backwards with the force, irritated eyes finding yours. “I swear to God, you don’t want me to fuck you.”
You tried your best not to laugh, he was putting way too much effort into a simple(ish) task, if he carried on like this you’d have no other option than to think he was incapable at stripping women. Instead, now that you were finally free of your jeans, you spread your thighs, revealing your barely there panties. 
“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow. You were now more aroused than ever, the delicate fabric stuck damp to your sex, and Seokjin’s eyes immediately wondered to the sight you’d put on display, his eyes glazing over slightly, darkening with lust. 
He stood from the bed suddenly, unzipping his own jeans to remove them too, throwing them to the side with haste. You could easily see the curve of his impressive erection in those tight black boxer shorts and as he crawled back to you, you couldn’t help but cup him, tracing your fingers across the thick length before rubbing him, feeling him push into your touch and groan as his lips pressed into yours. 
You pulsed when you felt his hand cup your mound, knowing he could feel the heat that radiated from it instantly. He pinched at the sticky fabric, pulling it back and snapping it against you. Annoyingly, he didn’t seem to take much interest in the underwear as you’d hoped, more concerned about what was underneath, so near enough immediately, he had them gone – successfully this time. His gaze travelled to your nakedness, soaking in the view before he traced the outline of your folds with his fingertips. “You’re literally fucking naked in front of me,” he awed, never once taking his eyes off you. 
He had to feel you pulsing beneath him, eager for something more, but he didn’t give you it. “I didn’t think being this wet was possible,” he whispered smugly, eyes flicking over to your face. 
You grumbled, although probably more frustrated he was teasing you than by his words. “Stop trying to inflate your ego.” 
He chuckled, shifting closer, and then suddenly there was a finger inside you. You sucked in a breath, no time to get accustomed to the sensation as he began fingering you, curling and pressing the long digit against your velvety walls. “Fuck. Seokjin!” 
He grinned wolfishly down at you, strands of hair falling into his eyes, but you could still see them twinkling with mirth. “Found another way to shut you up.” 
You would’ve scowled if your mouth wasn’t too busy moaning. He was not going to weaponise fingering too... 
His actions sped up as he slipped a second digit into you, straightening them as he fucked you with them, sending you splayed out on the mattress as he knelt between your legs. You should’ve maybe felt self-conscious by now, but the pleasure coursing through your body was too distracting. Plus, the way Seokjin watched you, eyes hungrily staring at your breasts jiggling with each snap of his wrist, had you basking in the attention. 
You were shocked to find out how close to coming you had been when he abruptly pulled out of you, your body on a come down as shaky breaths wracked throughout you. His mouth was on yours immediately, kissing you messily, shallow breathing. His voice shook as he spoke. “Fuck. I can’t think straight.” 
He kneeled up, looking between your legs again as he vigorously rubbed at his dick. “Let me eat you out again.” 
He went to dive in, but you stopped him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you sat up. “Wait, you’ve already done that.” As much as you’d loved it and wouldn’t mind a repeat, what was the point in waiting? He was obviously as desperate for you as you were for him. There was no point dragging it out, anymore would just be considered teasing. 
You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, running your hand down his chest. He was a little sweaty and you loved it. “Just fuck me. I want to feel you already.” 
He looked down at your hand, fingers now toying with the waistband of his underwear and swallowed. “Yeah... Yeah, good idea.” 
Standing on the floor, he looked around for his jeans, spotting them near the left side of your bed. You shuffled closer, reaching out to grab his elbow and stop him in his tracks. “Take those off first, I want to get a good look at your ass,” you prompted, gesturing to his underwear. 
He looked a little surprised by your request, but listened, giving you somewhat of a bemused smirk as he stripped himself of his boxers. He turned slightly, protecting the fullness of his butt as he reached down for his jeans, but you were more than satisfied with the curve of the flesh you saw. Seokjin always did have a nice looking ass in his work pants – not that you’d been staring, of course... 
“I feel like a piece of meat,” he told you, eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, foil packet between his fingers. 
“A tasty piece of meat,” you corrected, feeling excited when he sat down on the side of the bed and dropped the condom beside your bodies. You were literally a couple of minutes away from having him inside you, and you quite honestly couldn’t contain yourself.
Crawling into his lap, you hooking your arms around his neck, feeling his wrap around your waist, his cock bouncing slightly against your inner thigh. Pulling you closer he pressed his mouth into yours, his grip firm, kiss passionate.  A hand travelled down to your ass, another cupping one breast and he moaned loudly as he pulled away from your lips. “God. I love your body so much.” 
You smirked, very much appreciating the praise and as if your body couldn’t help it, you pressed your hips into him, rubbing against his thigh partially. 
“You really like to grind,” he commented, looking down between your bodies and that’s when you couldn’t take it any longer, reaching down to wrap your hand around his dick. His hips jumped at the sensation, and you couldn’t help but run your fist up and down the length, feeling the hot, ridged flesh pulse against your grasp.
Condom back between his fingers, you watched him start to tear it open, rushed slightly, his hips absentmindedly jutting up into your hand. Randomly, your eyes caught the writing on the gold square and instantly your mouth became dry. 
“What?” Seokjin asked, pausing his movements as he noticed something was wrong. Did your face give it away? 
“N-nothing,” you stuttered, tearing your gaze away from the bolded King Size to look down at your hand. Seokjin’s dick almost taunted you. You hadn’t really paid attention to it properly since he’d gotten naked, forgetting the shock you’d felt earlier on in the day when faced with the massive task. Your mouth had accustomed well, but your vagina?! You were getting reservations... 
“You really do have a fucking massive dick.” 
Seokjin chuckled, angling his head low to kiss your mouth. He knew you’d noticed the text on the condom packet now. “You’ll make him go shy with all these compliments.” 
He lifted you in one smooth motion and you found yourself spread on your back, head on the pillow as he hovered over you, sliding the condom on. He held his cock in his hand as he dropped to his knees, tugging it a couple of time just to make sure all was secure and then he leaned in to place a kiss on your shoulder. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmured, rubbing the head if his cock against your sex. You could hear the noise of the latex and you clenched unconsciously, now nervous. “Hm?” He prompted, waiting for a likeminded reply. When you didn’t give him one he lifted his head to look at you, looking a little concerned. “What is it?”
You wrapped your arms around his middle, feeling comforted by the heat of his body and the softness of his skin. It was funny, you didn’t feel embarrassed to confide in him right now, to ask for reassurance. There had been a time, even as far as quite recently, when you had not for even one second wanted to look scared, worried or dumb in front of him. Now that seemed kind of silly... 
“You will fit, right?” 
“Of course I’ll fit,” he laughed, looking instantly relieved. Had he been expecting something bad? 
“You better. I don’t want you breaking my vagina in two.” You warned, chest feeling a little lighter, enough to joke around with him. 
“You’re acting like it’s dangling above my knee or some shit.” He repositioned himself, easing his dick away from your heat as he rolled his eyes playfully. The action touched you. Even though he was teasing you, he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable... 
Ever so gently, he rubbed the inside of your thigh, his way of reassuring you while also helping you relax. Were you that tense under him? You keened into his touched, loving the way he made you feel. 
“You been fucking men with tiny cocks this whole time?” He joked, making you scoff out a small laugh. 
“No, just not that... big.” 
You expected him to make another joke, something about stroking his ego, but instead he leaned in to kiss you, his hand rubbing circles on your hip now. “I’ll go slow. Don’t be worried,” he reassured. You bucked into him instinctively when you felt his fingers at your entrance. He slid two fingers inside, moving slowly. “I stretched you out pretty good anyway.” He pressed upwards, causing you to moan. “You’ll take it.” 
His words made you tingle all over, something kind of vulgar about them that made you not so anxious now. Pulling out, he ran his fist over his length again and you felt a little sorry for him. You didn’t want to keep him waiting anymore. You didn’t want to wait anymore. 
Seokjin caught you watching him and smiled, leaning closer. “Yeah?” He asked your permission. 
You nodded, crossing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Yeah.” He repositioned himself, sitting taller on his knees as he pushed the tip of his cock up against your entrance. You wanted him closer, reaching for him as you murmured, “Kiss me.” 
He listened immediately, moving over your body to meet your lips. He started to push inside, carefully, an inch or so at a time. “Fuck,” he mumbled, as your warmth continued to surround him. “You feel amazing.” 
You moaned out in agreement, the stretch nothing but pleasurable as he sunk a little further. You went to look between your bodies, curious. 
“No, don’t look down.” He stopped you, kissing your mouth over and over again, distracting you successfully. “Not yet. Wait until I’m fully inside.” 
You didn’t know why he was so adamant. Maybe he didn’t want you to potentially freak out and see him pushing that massive ass dick into you, or maybe he just really wanted your first sight to be you stuffed full of him... You moaned at the thought, feeling him push even deeper. God, you loved this feeling. 
“Seokjin–!” 
His mouth was against your neck now, kissing you softly. “Just a little bit more.” His voice was tight, strained under the increasing pleasure he was feeling, mixed with the urge to delve straight inside. 
You planted your feet to the bed, widening your legs just a tad to silently let him know you were more than ready. With one more nudge he slipped all the way in. You knew because you felt his hips press into yours, that and the moan he gave out. “Ngh. Yeah. Shit.” 
You looked down, Seokjin’s lips frozen against your shoulder. “Oh, my god,” you whispered, taking in the sight of where your bodies met. You felt incredibly full, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was pleasant. Incredibly pleasant. 
“Can’t believe I’m inside you,” he awed next to your ear, and it took you a moment to realise he was staring too. 
You cupped his face, sliding your hands around the back of his head to weave your fingers in his hair, grip firm. “Move,” you informed him, needing him to start fucking you immediately before you cried. 
He got to work, your hands now travelling the expanse of his back as he rocked his hips into you at a painfully steady pace, the chain on his neck swinging back and forth. His hands were either side of your head on the pillow, his breathing heavy as he cast his gaze down to your eyes. “You literally have the warmest cunt I’ve ever felt.” 
Your face heated up immediately, not expecting such an admission and instinctively you dipped your chin. You might’ve really liked it but it was still embarrassing, nonetheless. You heard him chuckle, a hand reaching to cup your cheek, making you look at him again. “What? Not used to guys talking dirty to you?”
“It’s not that.” You shook your head.  “I usually don’t like it.” It was true. Nobody had been able to pull it off well in the past, usually feeling cringey and unnatural. But with Seokjin... It made you feel some type of way. 
He smirked, although it looked a little strained due to the way he was still thrusting inside you. “That’s because they never did it properly. It’s an art form.”
He was lucky his bragging held up... 
You ran your hands down the small of his back, cupping his ass gently as you pushed down with each thrust of his hips. You couldn’t help but moan each time he bottomed out, wriggling under him. 
“It feels good, right? Nothing hurts?” He asked, nuzzling his face into the side of yours. You shook your head. “Good.” 
With your assurance, he thrust into you hard, causing you to shoot up the bed. You dug your nails into his ass with the shock. “Seokjin—!” 
He repeated, slowly pulling out until just the tip of his cock was inside and then slamming back in. “Told you I’ll fit.” He murmured, sliding out again, looking down your body as it shook. “This pussy couldn’t wait for me to fuck it.” 
You cried out as he hit deep, even more pleasurable because of his shameless mouth. “Again!” You begged, hands raking up his back now as you attempted to roll your hips into his, but it was no use, he had you pinned down, held prisoner by his dick. 
“Patience, baby,” he purred against your ear. “It’s not a race.” 
Your breath shook. There it was, that word again. When he was inside you like this, it didn’t sound half as bad. 
Despite his comment, he gradually started to speed up, straightening his back to fuck you harder, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you planted, although you couldn’t help but grind your hips into him, chasing more and more. When his fingers brushed over your clit, you fluttered your eyes closed, brows furrowed. 
“Don’t stop,” you breathed, soft moans leaving your mouth involuntary, enjoying the sensation of him circling your clit. 
“Yeah? Gonna cum?” He asked – more like goaded. Your skin prickled, his tone setting you alight. “Gonna cum all over my dick?” 
You let out a strangled cry, squeezing around him, your thighs spreading further, desperate to feel him deeper. Grunting, he leaned over your body, snapping his hips harder, his motions against your clit firmer, the pads of all four fingers rubbing tight circles. 
“You feel so fucking good.” He groaned. “Tell me how much you love it. Don’t be shy.” 
Once again you felt your cheeks heat up, reluctant despite how good he was making you feel. 
“Y/N.” He commanded gently, and you slowly found his gaze, jaw slack. “Let me know how you’re feeling. How much you love me fucking you.” 
You wanted to. You really wanted to. It was only fair given how much he was praising you too. There was nothing wrong with him wanting you to stroke his ego right now, despite how unaccustomed you were to dirty talking. 
“I love it so much,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop. You’re going to make me cum.” 
Not that you could label that as dirty talk... You sounded a little awkward, cringing at yourself, but Seokjin seemed to like it, dropping lower to kiss you, grunting into your mouth. You felt encouraged enough to continue. You weaved your fingers in his hair, loving the sound of his panting. “Seokjin, please make me cum. You feel so fucking amazing. I love your dick, don’t stop fucking me.” 
His hips stuttered as he processed your words and then he growled, kickstarting them again – much harder. “That’s a dangerous thing to ask, Y/N,” he warned, breaking away from your mouth to stare down at you, expression dark. Each thrust sent your headboard into the wall. 
“You want me to keep fucking you even after you cum?” 
“Oh, god,” you moaned as he slammed into you, his fingers against your clit unrelenting. “Ye-ss! You can fuck me all night if you like.” 
“Don’t,” he whined, his face dropping into the crook of your neck before he growled again, flinging himself up. 
Still on his knees between your thighs, he lifted one of your legs up, hooking it casually over his shoulder, fingers on his left hand digging into the meat of your thigh. You spread your other leg, resting it on top of his knee, his right hand holding you flat until he found your clit again, two fingertips stroking it steadily. 
Your thighs started to shake, the rest of your body tense as your middle jerked up against his touch. He kept fucking you, stopping each time he was fully inside of you to grind against your insides. 
“Seokjin, I want to—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, pleasure too strong. You were so tense your release seemed like it would never come.
“Just let go. Cum.” He told you, his voice tight, neck strained. “Just think of how good I’m making you feel. You’re so wet, I’m sliding everywhere.” 
You could hear yourself, squelching with each snap of his hips and circle of his fingers. Suddenly he slapped down with his hand, not especially hard, but it made your body jerk, a cry of surprise leaving you. “Seokjin, fuck.” 
He instantly went back to playing with your clit,   you pulsed red hot. “You like that, baby?” He purred, voice low, rolling his dick inside you at a deadly rhythm. “You’re such a fucking tease.” He smirked. “Knew you’d be dirty, or do I just bring out that side of you?” 
All you could do was moan, the shock of his palm against your core still zapping up your body, your hips moving with his, urging him to keep going because you were so close, teetering over the edge. Pushing his body weight into you, still gripping your leg against his chest, you sunk further into the mattress. 
“Just concentrate on how my cock feels.” He helped you along, words flying out of his mouth as you squeezed around his cock tightly. “How my fingers feel. I really want to make you cum.” He groaned loudly, determination in his tone. “Soak me.” 
“Fuck.” This was it, you could feel the build-up of your orgasm cresting. “Seokjin, I’m—!” You broke off with a moan as pleasure engulfed you. “Coming. I’m coming.” 
Your body stiffened, foot trembling above his shoulder, but Seokjin kept fucking you through the waves that wracked through you, his fingers against your clit easing up slightly, careful not to overstimulate you. Your head was spinning as you started to feel your orgasm gradually wane, warmth flowing through your veins as your limbs started to relax again. You gasped for breath, amazed by what had just happened. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d come like that... if ever. 
Seokjin’s hips slowed down, carefully dropping your leg to the bed as he eased up and crawled over you, mouth finding yours, your tongues meshing together sloppily. You wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist and tugged him closer. He was still inside you, not moving, but that soon changed as you started to roll your hips into his. You still wanted him, orgasm only making you hornier, however possible that was. 
“I-I can carry on?” He asked thickly, shallowly fucking inside of you now, pace uneven. 
“Please,” you murmured against his ear. “I said don’t stop.” 
He groaned, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before knocking into you harder, slow but calculated. He felt bigger inside of you, the result of your walls tightening, but you loved it, your fingers playing with the chain at the nape of his neck. The metal was cool, a big difference to his skin which was hot and slick with his sweat. 
“Not too hard?” He asked, grunting with each thrust. 
You pulled him to you closer, ignoring the way his pelvis rubbed against your core, still a little sensitive. “Fuck me however hard and fast you like.” Running your hands along his muscular back you felt him shiver, a tight whine escaping his lips as your words got to him. You felt pretty chuffed. 
“You feel so fucking amazing, Seokjin. You’re so good at this.” You praised, words falling from you naturally and unprompted. 
His brain didn’t seem to be functioning anymore, unable to respond to you, the feeling of his impending orgasm too distracting, but he moaned at your words, face falling to your shoulder as he just. Kept. Fucking. You. His thrusts were hard, but not as calculated as before. You could tell by the way he was breathing he was close, his grunts muffled but still audible. 
“Gonna–gonna c–”
You could hear that too, feel the way his body stiffened instantly, and he rammed deep inside you, waiting for the first spill of cum. You gripped him tight, loving the way his body shook as he came, and you welcomed each tremor as his cum filled the condom. 
“Oh, my fuck,” he gasped, the last surge the strongest, and you suppressed the giggle that wanted to escape your throat. He was pretty speechless, you guessed. “Shit. Fuck. Shit.” 
He laid on top of you for a few moments, catching his breath while muttering expletives into your skin. You liked being weighted down by his body, you couldn’t describe it, it just felt good. 
“Seokjin?” You questioned, turning your head as much you could to rouse him. His back was all clammy, the hairs against the back of his neck damp with sweat. 
He slowly lifted himself up, hands pressing into mattress. “I think my brain just blew to pieces.” Blowing air out of his mouth, he noticed his lips were wet. He brought a hand up to feel. “I fucking dribbled.” He chuckled, wiping himself clean. 
“Hot,” you teased, watching him roll off you and remove the soiled condom, tying a knot at the top. He sat up, looking around for your trashcan before spotting one near your closet. It gave you a great view of his ass when he walked over to throw it away. 
You rolled onto your side as he came back, joining you on the bed, stretching his arm behind his head as he looked over at you, a smugness to his face. “I don’t want to take all the credit but I’m pretty sure that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” 
You shrugged casually, trying your best not to smile. “Yeah, I’d rate it like an 8/10.” 
“Hey,” he exclaimed incredulously. 
“I’m messing around.” You laughed, your hand reaching to play with his necklace, your eyes skimming down his torso. “It was amazing.” 
“Yeah?” He smirked, stealing a small kiss. 
You nodded. “I kinda want to go again...” 
He raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t want me to leave?” 
Laughing, you hit his chest playfully. “Did you imagine I’d kick you out straight away or something?” 
“No,” he insisted, looking a little embarrassed. “I just... I don’t know.” He looked really happy that wasn’t the case though. As if you’d kick him out after that performance. You were making the most out of tonight… 
You laid your head down on the pillow, still looking at him, weirdly uncaring that you were still naked. “You have more condoms on you, right?”
“I came prepared – just in case.” He felt the urge to add, not seeming to care his junk was still out at all. “Do you want to go again right now?”
You chuckled. “Give it a little while. You wore me out.” Although, you’d be highly impressed if he was able to go for round two immediately. 
“Sure,” he agreed, folding his other hand behind his head too, Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “I could do with a nap.” 
A nap definitely sounded good right about now. You tapped his chest, sitting up. “Let me pee first.” 
Standing, you grabbed the gown draped over your wicker chair and slipped in on. Not before Seokjin snuck a glance though, groaning to himself and burying his face into the bed as if he couldn’t go on any longer. 
“Ugh, your body.” 
.
.
You woke up to a phone ringing. It sounded like it was coming from the floor because you could hear vibrations against the wood. Seokjin groaned and then slipped from under you, letting your head down gently to rest on the pillow. 
Once you’d come back from the bathroom you’d immediately jumped under the covers, feeling it cold now and encouraged Seokjin to follow. You’d cuddled for a little bit, your head on his chest and before long you’d fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been that long ago, and one look at your alarm clock as Seokjin searched for his phone in his jeans, told you it was half past midnight. 
“Who was it?” You asked sleepily, hearing it ring off just as he grabbed it. 
“Jungkook.” 
“Why is he calling so late?” 
Seokjin put the phone down on your dresser and got back into bed, wrapping his arms around you. He was still naked, the thought got you a little excited. 
“Probably gonna ask if I want to play a game of League.” Video games at this time? What was he, still in high school? You halted your judgement though, settling back against his chest. 
“I’ll just pretend I was asleep,” he shrugged. 
“You were asleep.” 
There was a pause, and then you felt his hand travel to ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You still had your gown on, but it was thin, and you could feel the heat of his palm easily. “I’m awake now,” he murmured. “Are you?”
“I guess so,” you teased, nudging your pelvis into his thigh ever so gently, silently giving him the go ahead. 
“I’ll tell Jungkook I was a little preoccupied then...” 
You lifted your head, looking unimpressed. “Don’t you dare.” 
Laughing loudly, he leaned in to kiss you. “As if he’d believe me.” You weren’t particularly listening though, too busy getting addicted to his mouth again. 
You soon found yourself on top of him, his dick hard against your stomach as you made out furiously , his fingers brushing against the lips of your entrance, teasing you. 
He pulled his head back, a boyish grin on his face. “Can you ride me this time?”
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Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021 
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raibebe · 4 years ago
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Invoke
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Genre: Mystery? Thriller? Slightly gore? With some fluff? And eventual smut? Words: 13.315 Prompt: Warlock Yuta, familiar Ten, female reader Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of religion, blasphemy (our warlock doesn’t like the church and made a deal with the devil), blood, devil summoning, murder with magic, actual murder
A/N: This has a couple of darker themes, if you’re sensitive to any of them, please be careful or just sit this fic out and don’t read it. The abuse is only implied and is not happening to any of the main characters. This seriously went out of hand and holy fuck I love warlock Yuta?? Thank you so much for requesting this @def-sol​! Ruby I loved this idea so much, I hope you enjoyed this. The beautiful moodboard is by @min-inu as always, thank you darling! Another big thank you to @burtonized, Jo you’re the real MVP for listening to me whine all day long.
Warlock: A male practitioner of witchcraft. The word comes from the Old English word wǣrloga meaning “oathbreaker” or “deceiver”. The terms were associated with witches and warlocks as they were seen as someone who made a pact with the devil and thus had betrayed the Christian faith and broke their baptismal vows.
It was a rainy autumn afternoon, the clouds had sunken into the valley your hometown was located in and covered everything in a layer of grey fog, washing away every color. You adjusted the hood of your cloak to shield yourself from the moisture after you stepped out of the little bakery you worked at when you heard the hooves of multiple horses on the beat up street that lead to the little town. Knowing that nothing good ever came from those horseman, you quickly hid the loaf of bread in your ratty coat and headed to the town square. A small crowd had already gathered when one of the knights pulled loose what seemed to be a lump rolled into a cloth from his horse that fell to the ground with a low thud. Only when it started to move, you felt the horror creep up your back. A couple of people quickly scrambled to see what was inside the cloth, even though you all already knew it. Beneath the thick linen, a girl’s face was revealed. You hadn’t known her when the knights had taken her with them just a couple of weeks prior but you could feel nothing but sincere pity for the girl. Her face was unnaturally swollen, her skin more the color of violets than her actual skin tone, blood clinging to her features and she was shivering in the arms of one of the women, completely silent. You turned your back towards her, not wanting to see the state the rest of her body must be in. The last girl that had come back from the royal court had only lasted a week before she had died due to the multiple injuries she had. She also hadn’t spoken a single word. But everyone had known what that men of the court must have done to her in the castle that overlooked the little valley, sitting high up on a nearby hill.
The knights just kept sitting in their saddles, completely unfazed. How could a person be this cold? How could they just follow the orders from their sires to keep taking girls away from their families to bring them back broken and beat, unable to continue to live a normal life? And how was no one doing anything against this? Why were the lords of these lands above the law? Why didn’t the priests do anything with all the power they had? The sight made you sick to the stomach and you couldn’t stand to look at the scene even a second longer, walking back to your home, trying to ignore the screams of the girl the knights must have picked out to take with them. You grabbed the cross hanging around your neck tightly and spoke a prayer to protect the girl from the worst.
That night you couldn’t fall asleep, your thoughts twisting and turning inside your head. Your anger towards the royals only grew more and more with each girl they took with them and you were sick of everyone just accepting their fate. The girls lived in fear that they would be the next one taken and the fathers and mothers were desperate to keep their daughters safe, praying every evening inside the small church. But with every day that passed you lost faith in your god. How could a just god let all of this happen? And the people of the town alone couldn’t do anything to stop this abuse. If they would speak up, they wouldn’t even be able to finish their words because their head would be rolling from their shoulders as soon as they opened their mouths.
Sighing, you rolled onto your back, staring at the holes in the ceiling. You refused to accept that you should patiently wait until the knights unfortunately picked you to take you to the castle where the royals would completely break you, shattering your being to the core. There must be a way to stop all of this. To put an end to the injustice that was happening. When the new lord had been initiated, he had sworn with his hand on the Sacred Scriptures that he would protect the people caring for his lands. If this was what him caring looked like, you didn’t even want to know what it would be like if he was turning a blind eye. It really seemed like you and your town needed some supernatural help or otherwise the royals would just keep playing with the lives of their subjects like they meant nothing.
That was when an idea shot into your head, making you sit up in your bed. After the last girl had come back and the healers of your village hadn’t been able to arrest her bleeding and the prayers of the priests hadn’t helped either, her mother had sneaked away to find a man that lived alone in the woods who was rumored to be gifted with certain powers that allowed him to give and take life. Of course the mother had to do it in secret; if the priests ever found out about that man, he would be burned on the town’s square just like the red haired woman who had wanted to travel through the town. Sometimes you could still hear her screams when the flames ate away her flesh. The next night you had seen a figure wearing a dark cloak sneaking into the home of the family. Curious as to what was going to happen you had sneaked over as well, watching the scene through a crack in the back door: The man had sat down on the bed of the girl and took off his hood to reveal long unruly strands of a red brighter than you had ever seen. He had spoken a couple of words in a language unfamiliar to you, keeping his voice level and his gaze down towards the girl. After a while, the girl had begun to shake and thrash only to suddenly stop mid movement before deflating back onto the mattress. The man then had let out a deep sigh before he put the hood of his cloak over his head again. He only said four words to the parents on his way out: “Her struggle is over.” When the parents ran to the body of their daughter, he had picked up a bundle the father had set up on the desk and left without looking back. That night you could hear the mother cry until the sun crawled over the trees of the forest again and the nature came back to life to cover her pain with beautiful symphonies.  
That man had liberated the girl from her injuries and pain by taking her life just from talking to her. He must have some special powers people attributed to witches and warlocks. He must be powerful enough to help you. And if the family of that girl was able to pay him to use his abilities in their favor (even if it hadn’t turned out how they wanted to), he must also have a price for killing the royals. Or at least send them a warning. You had to find this man and at least try to win him over. As far as you were concerned he might be your only chance to put an end to this.
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After a rough night of twisting and turning in your scratchy sheets, you got up more determined than ever to find the mysterious warlock. You quickly got dressed in your warmest cloak and left the house you had rented your room in, sneaking past your snoring landlord who smelled like he had spent his night in the tavern yet again, drinking too much and then lusting after the skirts of women that were way too young for him. You couldn’t help but feel relieved when you left the house and could breathe in the fresh air of the morning. Once your lungs were filled with air smelling like a mixture of freshly cut grass and baked bread, you turned to leave the town. You had no idea where exactly you could find the man. But rumors about him had traveled around the town since the day you were born. Coming to think of it, he seemed to have been around for as long as you could think which didn’t match with how young he had seemed to be when you got that glimpse of him a couple of weeks prior. But the priests always preached that those who had broken their vows and abandoned the right path had many different wicked tricks to disguise their true form.
Mindlessly you followed a trail that lead deeper into the woods and away from the fields where the workers were cultivating different plants both for themselves and for the damned royals. If the priests had never bothered to pay the man a visit, he must live in a place they couldn’t reach, up higher the hill where the paths were narrow and steep. So those were the paths you were taking, paying attention to never lose your footing and keeping your eyes open for anything suspicious.
You were about to give up when the underbrush became thicker and thicker, clearly untouched when you heard the jingle of what seemed to be a little bell. Why would there be a bell ringing in the middle of the forest? Cautiously you listened and crept closer to what seemed to be the source of the noise. It wasn’t long until you found the cause: A small black cat was rubbing its head against a branch in what seemed to be an attempt to get the collar off but it was wrapped too tightly around its throat. “Do you need some help, little one?” You softly asked as to not startle the feline. The cat immediately stopped whatever it was trying to do and stared up at you from big, amber eyes. You carefully approached it and kneeled down, slowly extending your hand towards it so it could see that you meant no harm.  After it carefully eyed you up and down, the cat crawled over to first sniff your fingers before it pressed its head into your palm. Giggling you scratched it behind its ears which earned you a loud purr. “Let me get that collar off of you,” you murmured, carefully tipping the cat’s head so you could examine the leather band the bell was fastened onto. With nimble fingers you undid the intricate knot and the cat could slip out of it. Once it was free, it curved its back and hissed loudly at the little object resting in your palm. “You really didn’t like that bell, huh?” You smiled. “Who do you belong to, little one? I’m looking for a man with red hair. I was hoping he could help me with a problem.” Why were you talking to a cat? It wasn’t like it could understand and lead you to the warlock.
Strangely enough the cat crooked its head as if it was listening to your words and thinking about what it should do. “Do you know him and can take me to him?” You asked carefully, eyeing the cat carefully. It meowed loudly before it got up to disappear deeper into the underbrush. You sighed deeply. Of course the cat had neither understood you nor would it be able to help you. Whether you liked it or not, you might had to ask the family who had lost their daughter where you could find the warlock. It was useless to stray through the forest like this, hoping to stumble upon a house or the man himself. You were about to turn around when another rather annoyed sounding meow tore through the sounds of the forest and a pair of amber eyes looked at you from the bush the cat had jumped into. “Are you trying to help me find him?” You disbelievingly asked the cat who actually rolled its eyes at you. When did a normal cat ever roll its eyes? Could cats even roll their eyes? What was happening? Before your thoughts could spiral any further, the cat made its way through the underbrush again, and you scrambled to follow the black creature, not taking chances of losing it between the bushes and trees.
Soon you reached a clearing the cat eagerly crossed, climbing onto a big stone surface in the grass where it curled up in the sun. Further back between a couple of big oak trees sat a small hut that surely had seen better times. “Where have you taken me?” You quietly asked the cat. Of course it didn’t respond, it just lazily turned its head towards the house where a figure clad in black clothes just emerged, their red hair reflecting the light of the sun that was peeking through the trees. “You little shit!” The person called, clearly a male voice, “How did you manage to get it off?” The cat didn’t even react to the screaming, just stretching its lithe body in the sun. “And who are you?” The man asked when he came closer, his green eyes so piercing it made you shiver. “I- Your cat showed me the way,” you stuttered. “That’s not what I asked, woman.” The warlock angrily crossed his arms in front of his chest and arched one of his eyebrows, waiting for an actual answer to his question. Taking a deep breath, you explained your situation to the man: Beginning with the story of how the knights kept kidnapping girls from your town and in which state they brought them back, if they brought them back at all. Then you told him how helpless the people were, how everyone with a daughter lived in constant fear that she would be next. You told him that you had seen him all those nights ago when he took the girl’s life to rid her from her suffering. Through all of it his face remained blank just the cat got up from where it was curled up, walking around its owner’s feet. “I need your help. We all do,” you ended your speech, “I know it’s within your powers to take lives. We need help getting rid of these royals. We can’t keep living like this, they will keep taking girls until there are no more left and I can’t just watch and wait until they take me. Please, we have no means of doing anything against them.”
“No.” “What do you mean no?” You asked the warlock who had scooped up his lithe cat into his arms and turned to walk back into his house. “I’m not doing it. It’s no use to interfere with royals, they never change.” “But you could help the whole town. We are being terrorized, every week the guards come and take another girl with them and they either never come back or they are so traumatized they can’t even speak about whatever has happened to them and we can only tend to their wounds. I am begging you,” you pleaded but the warlock didn’t turn back around, only his cat seemed to listen who had climbed onto his shoulder, looking at you from its big amber eyes. “I’ll do anything. Take me, take my body, I don’t care. I just don’t want them to break me.” “Anything you say?” The man asked, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t want them to have control over my body,” you whispered, “You can’t do anything worse to me than what the royals are doing to those girls.”
After a beat of silence, the cat meowed loudly, jumping down from the man’s shoulder to walk over to you again, cocking its head as if it was evaluating you. “I’m not going to do it,” the warlock repeated but before you could protest, he turned around again, locking his piercing green eyes with yours, “But I am going to teach you so you can do it yourself.” “It’s not going to be nice or easy,” he continued, looking you up and down once, then twice, “Take that thing off, we won’t need it where we are headed.” He motioned to the cross you had dangling around your neck; your only possession of any worth. “It has protected me from evil up until now,” you protested, closing your fist around it. “Woman. What did the priests tell you where me and my brothers and sisters have gotten our powers from?” The warlock asked, his green eyes almost glowing. You had never heard a man saying the word ‘priest’ with so much hatred and disgust. “They say you’ve made a deal with the... With the devil,” you stuttered. “For once that is a piece of truth that those fat men are speaking,” he snarled, “We are not born with these powers, we have to offer Satan a piece of ourselves in exchange for the powers he grants us with and he won’t be pleased to see that symbol of lies and oppression around your neck.”
For a while you stood still in front of the warlock who had come so close to you that you could count every single chain link on the chain that was hanging from the cartilage of his ear. “How badly do you want to make those good-for-nothing-royals to pay for what they have done?” He spoke lowly, lifting his hand to slowly caress your jaw. You took a shaky breath and met his eyes again. “More than anything in my life.” “Then this shouldn’t be a problem,” he rasped before he grabbed your necklace and ripped it straight off, throwing it into the woods. Shaking off the shock, you quickly followed him and his cat into the little house that seemed to burst from its seams: Herbs, candles and different bones hanging from the ceiling and sitting on almost every available surface.
“Just sit on the sofa and don’t distract me,” the warlock said, starting to rummage through drawers. “Are you going to tell me your name?” You carefully asked after you had sat down on the only free space of the sofa, the cat quickly joining you, “In the town they just call you ‘the outcast’ if they speak about you.” The man snorted loudly. “I like that title but you can call me Yuta.” Yuta. You had never heard that name before. “You aren’t from around here, are you?” “I am not. Not that it is any of your business. I am just going to help you to get your revenge on those royals. Nothing more, nothing less.”
You nodded, idly stroking the black cat in your lap who had started purring loudly. You hadn’t expected the warlock to act like he did. You had come here expecting to bribe him with either money or even your body. It hadn’t fully sunken in that Yuta would turn you into a witch by making a deal with the devil. But you had a mission. You couldn’t just watch another girl getting taken by the knights to become a toy for some royal asshole that would throw her away like a broken shield. You really hoped that the whole process wouldn’t take long. The longer you needed to wait with your revenge, the more girls would get taken and never be the same again.
“What’s its name?” You asked curiously after you had been stroking the cat’s fur for a while. “He’s called Ten,” Yuta answered while grabbing different stones and skulls from the drawers of his giant cupboard that was covering the length of a whole wall. “Like the number?” “He’s the tenth child of a tenth child. Don’t underestimate him just because he looks like a cat.” “But what could he do?” You were confused. “A lot more than your mortal brain could imagine,” a smooth voice answered instead of Yuta’s and it took you a second before you realized it had been the cat who had spoken. “Did the cat just speak?” You squeaked. “I didn’t hear anything,” the warlock grinned and left the room to search for more ingredients. “He did just tell you my name, don’t go around calling me ‘the cat’ now,” the voice spoke again. You looked down to the cat that was curled up in your lap to find him looking right back at you with a stare that should have been way too intense for a mere cat. “How do you do that?” You whispered. “Does he know you can talk?” “You think he would survive out here on his own for years on end if he didn’t have me to talk to?” “But he said he doesn’t hear you.” “Because I am talking to you right now and not to him,” Ten stated as if this was the most normal thing in the world while he was cleaning his fur.
“Don’t believe anything he is telling you. Everything he’s telling you about me is made up,” Yuta said when he came back to the room, a dagger in his hands.  “I sincerely hope you aren’t scared of blood because otherwise this is going to be difficult.” You swallowed dryly, looking at the size of that dagger, but slowly shook your head. Yuta’s green eyes fixated on yours for a couple of moments before he nodded, wrapping the dagger in a cloth with multiple questionable stains. “I’m assuming you have saved your virtue?” You felt the heat rise to your face at his question, never had you met such a man who would ask questions like that so directly and unashamed. “I- I have,” you stuttered, feeling the need to cover your burning cheeks. “That saves us a lot of trouble,” Yuta nodded, grabbing some more things that he had scattered around the house.
“We need to walk for a bit, I am not opening a gate to hell in my garden again. The smell is horrible to get rid of,” the warlock called after he had found everything he needed and had rolled it into a cloth for transportation.   “The smell?” “Have you ever been present at a burning of a supposed witch? That’s the smell. But amplified,” Ten provided from his space on the sofa cushions. “Already scared?” Yuta asked with a smirk on his plush lips when he saw your scandalized expression. “No,” you answered, squaring your shoulders, “I’ll do whatever it takes.” “You better,” he grinned and opened the door of his home, leading you into the forest, further up the hill.
Soon you reached a little clearing where the soil seemed oddly burned where Yuta dropped his bundle of supplies. “You do this here often?” You asked curiously, looking around the area. “Opening a gate to hell? No. But sometimes it is fun to mess with demons,” he answered, winking mischievously, making your heart skip a beat. “Demons are a thing?” “Of course they are,” the warlock giggled, wiggling his eyebrows while pulling a smaller sachet from his makeshift bag, “Just stand in the middle of the burned area and don’t move.”
Nodding you followed his orders and watched him paint a perfect circle around you with the white powder from the sachet. After he had finished the circle, he painted lines through it, creating a pentagram. Satisfied with his work he pulled candles and crystals from his bag next, placing them at the edges of the pentagram and lighting the candles with a mere flick of his wrist. Next he grabbed a skull from his bag, placing it at your feet. “Now to the less comfortable part,” Yuta mumbled, pulling the dagger from its wrappings, “Hold out your arms and don’t move whatever happens. Your innocence is what keeps this whole thing from falling apart.” Slowly you held up your arms and he rolled up your sleeves. You prayed that he wouldn’t notice how you were trying to fight the way your arms were shaking but of course it didn’t slip his sharp eyes. “Nervous?” He grinned. “You are about to summon the literal devil, telling me I am what makes or breaks this ritual. Of course I am nervous,” you stammered, balling your hands to control the shaking. “Cute. Nervous about the ritual and not about losing your humanity for a petty revenge,” the warlock laughed. Before you could reply, he had quickly pulled the dagger across his palm without even batting an eye. “Now brace yourself.” He walked along the perimeter of the circle again, speaking in a language you couldn’t understand, his voice carrying a different weight than before, like he was speaking with multiple voices at once. When he had completed the circle, he closed off his wound with another flick of his wrist before walking towards you, still chanting the foreign words. Once he stood in front of you, he slowly raised the blade, locking eyes with you once before he dragged it over your exposed arms, making your blood seep from the cut.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the whimper inside that was trying to fight its way past your lips. You were not showing the warlock any more weaknesses than you already had; you could do this. Yuta kept his eyes to where more and more blood was coming to the surface, watching the droplets come together to drip off your arm. As soon as the first droplet hit the ground, the atmosphere around you changed: There were no more birds singing or wind ruffling through the leaves of the trees and it seemed to have gotten darker, almost unnaturally so, the candles supplying the only light on the clearing. A heartbeat later, the flames shot up high into the air, causing you to flinch. You fought your instinct to turn on the spot to run away. You needed to do this. Needed to do this for the sake of your town’s people. “Relax,” Yuta whispered into your ear, slowly turning your arms so the cuts were facing down, making more blood drop, “The devil is a lot nicer than the priests make him out to be.” You took a deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart which turned out to be a mistake: Your lungs were filled with the smell of burning air and sulfur, the smell so overbearing that you felt like you were suffocating. “Even breaths, in the mouth and out the nose,” Yuta whispered when he sensed your panic, gripping your arms tightly from where he was standing behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to even out your breathing while the scent of fire and burnt flesh got stronger with each breath you took. “Yuta, I can’t”, you heaved. “You can and you will,” he replied, voice stern, his nails digging into your skin. You tried to focus on the pain he was inflicting on you, the way the cuts stung and the way the blood was seeping from your flesh. You had no idea how much blood you had lost but your head was getting dizzy and your legs weak. “Don’t quit on me now,” you heard Yuta hiss through the fog that started to cloud your brain, “We’re almost there.” His grip on you tightened significantly when a loud crack resonated in the air not unlike to when a strike of lightning had hit its target. If it was possible, the smell only became more potent and the heat the candles gave off intensified tenfold. When you heard a deep rumbling laugh, Yuta turned your arms back around so the wounds on your forearms were facing upward again.
“My lord,” you heard the warlock speak, addressing whoever he had just summoned with the help of your blood. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, it was all too much: the heat, the smell and the stinging in your arms. If you were to see whatever was happening right in front of you, you were sure your brain would either forget how to breathe or how to keep holding your body up. You were already resting most of your weight on the warlock. “You brought me a new lamb,” a deep voice filled the space around you that seemed to come from every direction at once, covering you like a cloud. “Her cause is a noble one.” The voice chuckled. “Ready to give yourself over to me?” When you didn’t reply, Yuta pinched you again and you managed to squeeze out an affirmation even though your throat felt as if it was made out of sandpaper, your voice sounding gravely and foreign to your ears. “It’s over soon, my little lamb,” the voice rumbled, “I take good care of what is mine.” Whatever who you assumed to be the devil did next, filled your body with excruciating pain. It began from the cut in your arms and it felt like he had filled your veins with liquid fire that burned its way through your every fiber, taking over every thought in your brain. A silent scream left your lips and all you could remember before passing out were a pair of piercing green eyes and the smell of sulfur.
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When you regained consciousness it was in the comfort of a soft mattress beneath a thick blanket. You carefully blinked your eyes open a couple of times, trying to get the herbs hanging from the ceiling into focus. Once you could make out the little flowers on the branch of lavender, you let your gaze wander. Opposite of you stood a big mirror in front of what you assumed was a closet made out of mismatched wood with intricate carvings. Yuta must have brought you back to his cabin. Which meant that you were currently laying in his bed. The thought made blood rush to your head and you instinctively hid yourself in the softness of the blanket even though no one was around to see you. Like this his smell invaded your senses. It was earthy yet spicy. Dangerous. You sighed and let the smell comfort you, closing your eyes again.
Your limbs still felt heavy but after checking quickly, the wounds on your arms were gone, not even the smallest scar left. How long had you been unconscious for?  With how tired you still felt, it couldn’t have been for long, but the sun that was shining through the curtains told a different story. Outside you could hear birds chirping and if you focused just enough you could hear a cat meowing, probably Ten. Smiling you let your mind wander, letting the sounds of the animals relax you. But while you were counting your breaths to empty your mind, you couldn’t help but think that something was wrong. With every breath you took, you mind didn’t become more empty, instead you were feeling more and more: First it was just the way the blanket was scratching your bare arms and legs. Then you thought you were able to feel the herbs that were strung up to dry above your head. And somehow you could tell that Ten was no longer meowing in the garden, probably talking to Yuta but that he was walking towards the window of the bedroom.
You quickly opened your eyes and sat up straight in the bed just as his paws met the windowsill. “You’re awake,” his voice filled your head. You could just nod, staring at the cat in disbelief. How had you been able to predict that he was jumping into the room the exact moment that he did? “Feeling different yet?” Ten asked on, smoothly jumping onto the mattress. “Not really but you do,” you confessed. From up close he still looked the same but something was different. He felt bigger? Older? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. But what you knew for sure now was that he wasn’t just a talking cat. Yuta had been right, Ten was much more than his body made it seem. “I’m still the same,” he chuckled, neatly folding his tail around his sitting form, “But you certainly are different.” “How can you tell?” “Just take a look at yourself.” Both scared and curious you looked up and met your reflection in the mirror but the eyes that were looking back at you, weren’t your own. Your image in the mirror eyed you with deep emerald green eyes and if the light was not tricking your eyes, your hair had changed color as well. It wasn’t as vibrant as Yuta’s but it was definitely red. “So it is true that witches have red hair,” you mumbled under your breath, raking your hands through your hair to feel the strands. “Most witches have red hair but not all with red hair are witches and warlocks,” Ten confirmed.
Just with Ten before, you had a feeling that Yuta would enter the room before the door moved to reveal his body. “It’s about time you wake up, little witch,” the warlock grumbled. Today he had his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, strands of his unruly hair escaping it and curling at his nape. His piercing eyes scanned over your body quickly before he met yours. “Do you feel them yet?” “Feel whom?” “The energies around you,” Yuta replied as if it was a self-explanatory thing. When you kept quiet and just looked at him from big, unknowing eyes, he groaned and ran a hand over his face. “This is going to be a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.” “It would probably be easier, if you didn’t speak in riddles,” you mumbled under your breath but he must have caught it anyways. “Don’t give me this attitude or you won’t learn anything at all. I might be responsible for you now but I won’t feed you your lessons with silver spoon, you have to work for it. Starting now. Get dressed and meet me outside,” Yuta clarified and turned to left the room but halted in his steps. “And you won’t help her either, Ten. She needs to do this on her own.” Ten just meowed loudly and for some reason you could tell that he did not agree with how Yuta planned on training you. Were this the energies Yuta was talking about?
Once both the warlock and his companion had left the room, you quickly got dressed and headed outside only to find out that you were alone on the clearing. “Come on, this isn’t funny,” you groaned, looking around the house, “I didn’t come here to almost bleed out in a stupid ritual and then to be mocked.” But no one answered you. Yuta and Ten kept hiding. Wait, hiding? Why would they be hiding? Where did that thought come from? You let out a frustrated groan again and sat down on a patch of grass right in the middle of the clearing. “This is stupid, Yuta. I don’t know what to do,” you grumbled, picking at the grass and ripping out little pieces. But that did nothing to calm you down, it only got you more worked up for some reason.
“Take a deep breath and listen to your gut,” you heard Ten’s gentle voice resound inside your head. When you didn’t react and kept ripping out grass, he added: “Yuta is just as stubborn as you, he’ll not come out and I don’t fancy sleeping out here.” “This is so stupid!” You groaned again, letting your body fall back into the grass. When Ten didn’t answer, you took a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself back down. Why were you so irritated anyways? It really wasn’t like you. Closing your eyes, you started to count your breaths to calm your temper. That was when you felt it. Like a flame burning inside you: Bright and flickering wildly. Carefully you reached out to the flame and strangely enough it didn’t burn you, it felt welcome. Like coming home and you couldn’t help but smile. “Are you going to help me find Yuta and Ten?” You whispered. As if the flame was answering, it twitched slightly and calmed down a little. In turn you also felt calmer than you had been seconds ago. Taking another breath, you kept your eyes closed, focusing on the light your little flame shone and from your peripheral vision it seemed like there was another flame. It was a different color and seemed bigger than yours from what you could tell. Opening your eyes again, you quickly got up and walked over into the treeline where you had felt the flame.
“Are you going to throw a temper tantrum every lesson?” Yuta called you out when you had found him, lounging high in a tree eating an apple. You couldn’t fight the heat that crept up your neck, it had been rather childish in retro sight. “You gave me zero instructions,” you tried to rationalize it. “I didn’t have much more to go off from either when I gained my powers,” he argued and jumped down, “So lesson number one.” He patted down his pants once which did exactly nothing for the stains in the fabric before he placed his palm flat on your chest, making your breath hitch. “That in there is your energy. Get to know it. Learn how to read it. It’s where we draw our powers from, where every living being draws their energy from, they’re just not aware of it. If you concentrate and learn how to utilize it to your advantage, you’ll be able to feel other’s energies much more clearly and you will be able to manipulate them.” You nodded along with Yuta’s words even though you couldn’t quite grasp what it all would mean for you. “It’s overwhelming at first,” the warlock smiled, patting your chest before dropping his arm, “But I am here to help as long as you are willing to work with me and not throw a temper tantrum.” “Thank you,” you mumbled, smiling back at Yuta. “It’s thank you, master now,” he grinned. “Now go find Ten, I can tell he’s getting irritated.”
Nodding, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. “His hiding spot is a bit far away, I’ll guide you,” Yuta promised, taking one of your hands in his and you felt warmth spread through your body, comforting you. Smiling, you took another breath. You could do this, if Yuta was there to guide you, you could learn to use your powers.
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Over the course of the next days and weeks, you stayed with Yuta and Ten. The warlock taught you how to handle all the new things you were able to feel and how to manipulate the different energies around you. At night while you were lying on the little old mattress Yuta had dug up somewhere, Ten often joined you for some ear scratches and told you stories about old witches and warlocks who had become mad in their hunt for power or about incredible pioneers that had written the big spell books Yuta had yet to show you. You had gotten somewhat close with your master as well but you never quite understood him completely. One moment he seemed like he’d rather be literally anywhere else when you were struggling with molding the energies like he had both explained and showed you and the next moment he told you the most shocking made-up stories only to laugh at your face when you had actually believed him. But since he was the only other human you had contact with in a while, you grew attached to him quickly, always gravitating towards him even when he was doing mandatory tasks like cooking or cleaning (which admittedly wasn’t very often).
One rainy afternoon though, the warlock seemed more grim than usual. He had yet to teach you anything today; he had just asked you to grab a few herbs he was running low on. When you had asked Ten what was going on with Yuta, he had only given you a very cryptic answer before he had disappeared. “Something is different today,” you tried to initiate a conversation when the warlock wouldn’t talk to you while he was stirring something in a small cauldron over the fire. “What makes you think that?” “You haven’t taught me anything yet and refuse to talk to me. Ten is also nowhere to be found and he hates the rain.” “Wrong answer,” Yuta cut you off, “You’re still thinking like a regular human.” “I am still human,” you argued. At that your master just snorted, closing the lid on the copper cauldron louder than he needed to. “You’re so much more than just a human; you just need to finally acknowledge it. You came here seeking revenge on those who wronged your people and who abused their powers.” “And I still want them to pay for what they did to those girls.” “You want them gone.” It wasn’t a question. Yuta locked eyes with you: Piercing green meeting yours that were a little more muted. “They don’t deserve to keep living their lives like that. They need to be taught a lesson.” The warlock slowly nodded before he lowered the heat of the fire with a flick of his hand. “Get your cloak.” “Where are we going?” You asked, slipping on the thick fabric and following Yuta outside.
“You tell me,” he answered, motioning for the forest. “Stop toying with me.” “Use your senses, woman,” he spat, “Figure it out.” Huffing in annoyance, you closed your eyes, concentrating on your own energy that swirled inside your chest, feeling it like a small flame before you turned your eyes outward, feeling Yuta’s energy right next to you. His flame was bigger and seemingly less controlled than your own, a little deeper in color and burning hotter than yours. “Stop spying on me,” he spoke lowly, sounding almost amused. Slowly you expanded your sight, feeling the animals hiding from the rain beneath the leaves of the trees and in little caves, feeling the power of the stream that lead into the valley, feeling... Feeling something that was not right. “What is that?” You asked, trying to pinpoint where this energy was coming from. “You tell me,” Yuta spoke lowly, careful to not break your concentration. “Something isn’t right. Near the stream.” The warlock hummed, slowly approaching you to place a hand on your shoulder. Bit by bit you could feel the warmth of his powers mingle with your own, sharpening your senses, his energy guiding yours in the right direction. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only intensified but the comforting warmth of your master made you push further, looking for the source. “See it now?” “It’s a man,” you gasped, your senses almost recoiling when you found him. He was unlike any energy you had ever felt before. His energy felt off, you couldn’t quite describe it. “How does he feel?” Yuta’s low voice calmed you down again, encouraging you to look closer. “Wrong. Something is not right about him. His energy is small but it feels like it’s too warm. Like he’s about to burst.” “Do you know where he is?” “Near the bridge that leads to my town.”
“Alright,” Yuta spoke, sounding content with your analysis and you could feel his energy leave you, signalizing you to come back to the little house as well. Slowly you blinked your eyes open. “What is wrong with the man?” “He is not a good man,” your master spoke, “We’re going to kill him.” You wanted to protest, to tell him that you couldn’t just kill a man. But something, maybe a voice in the back of your head, told you that you could. And more importantly that you should. Wordlessly you followed Yuta to the path that would lead you towards the bridge.
“Remember what I told you about energies when you first felt them?” “We can neither create energy out of nowhere nor can we just make it disappear. We can just change the nature of the energy,” you recited dutifully. “And what does that tell you?” “We can’t rule over life and death.” “Not exactly,” Yuta agreed. “But you took that girl’s life when you came to heal her,” you argued. “I used up all the energy her body had left in it to heal the wounds that were hidden beneath her skin. I killed by healing her. After all her energy was used up, her heart stopped beating just like that.” “Is that what you’re going to teach me?” “No. that man’s body is healthy as far as I could tell,” Yuta shook his head, halting in his steps so you could meet his eyes again. “You might recognize him when we meet him. I need you to keep a level head and do exactly as I say or you might never get the revenge you want to get so badly.” You throat suddenly felt dryer than it had ever been and you tried to swallow down the feeling of fear that had begun to crawl up your spine.
“Swear that you’re going to do as I say,” Yuta pushed, holding out one of his arms. From what Ten had told you, Yuta was asking you to make an oath and those were not to be taken lightly. But you trusted Yuta. You trusted your master. He might have questionable methods to teach you certain things but he was a capable and strong warlock. Nodding, you held out your hand as well and he forcefully grabbed your forearm which you quickly copied. You could feel energy coming off of him, weaving around where you two were connected. “Say it.” “I swear I will do as you say as soon as we meet this man,” you said, your voice sounding deeper than it usually did, carrying a weight it only did when you tried to cast a spell. “And I will in turn swear to protect you and guide you through what we’re about to do,” Yuta promised, squeezing your arm tightly before his energy recoiled and he loosened the grip. “You’re going to make me kill him,” you breathed into the silence that stretched on. “I will,” he confirmed and turned around to keep making your way towards the strange man.
To say you were absolutely terrified was an understatement, your heart was hammering wildly inside your chest and you were sure Yuta must feel how unruly your energy was becoming. “Calm down,” he spoke, “Once you see him, you will feel differently.” “Can’t we start with something a little less drastic?” You pleaded. You weren’t ready for this. “What use does it have? You have learned everything you need to know about manipulating energies. The energy in humans is no different than the energy in a fire or in a plant and you’re doing well manipulating those. You’re ready for the next step.” “Yuta, I can’t,” you begged, swallowing down the taste of bile you suddenly had in your mouth. “You can and you’re going to,” he replied, a tone of finality in his voice, “Now be quiet, we’re almost there.” You had half a mind to scream so the man would run away when there wouldn’t be this voice in your head telling you that this man was no good. Taking a deep breath, you quickly followed your master until you arrived at the bridge, hiding between the bushes.
“He’s not far,” Yuta promised, “I’ll explain it once, listen closely: You will wait for him on the bridge. Make him stop so it’s easier for you to get a grasp on his energy. Just like you do it when you’re putting out a fire, you’re going to tug. Expect resistance because while every energy has the will to exist, human energy usually resists a little harder than just fire.” “What am I going to do with his energy?” You asked, proud that your voice wasn’t breaking. “It’s going to be a lot more energy than you can hold unlike with fires. You need to release it. Find something you can direct it to.” You bit your lip and nodded shakily. Sensing your discomfort, Yuta reached out and grabbed your hands in his, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. “I’m right behind you. I swore to protect you. If you fail to redirect it, I’ll do it before it eats you alive. But I do not want you to not try. Keep a level head.” Taking a couple of beep breaths, you tried to calm down. Yuta must have his reasons he wanted you to kill this man. He wasn’t unjust. You trusted your master. “Now go out there and wait for him. Maybe stretch your senses to find something to redirect the energy to,” he smiled, making your heart flutter for completely different reasons.
Following your masters orders, you stepped out onto the bridge, pulling your hood further into your face so it would be obscured to the man and briefly stretched out your senses like Yuta had suggested. You could feel the weird energy of the man approach, accompanied by another energy that might belong to his horse. Other than that you couldn’t feel much. The safest way was probably to redirect the energy to the water flowing in the stream. You couldn’t think about any other possibilities because the sounds of hooves approached quickly, revealing the horseman. He abruptly stopped his horse when he saw you blocking his path. “Move!” He yelled but you didn’t budge. In fact you were frozen in place when you recognized the man.
He was one of the knights of the king. But not just any knight. Images from summer flashed your mind: The man had stayed at the inn when it was too late to make the travel back to the castle after he had laughed at the girl he had brought back. In the inn he had drunk enough for three men and boasted about what a great lover he was and that the women could never get enough of him. You felt rage rise inside you. This man was rotten to the core. Yuta had been right, he had no rights to live a comfortable life after he had destroyed the life of so many girls and women. “Move!” He called again but you stayed right where you were, slowly lowering your hood so he could see the dark red color of your hair. “A little witch bitch,” the knight spat, dismounting his horse, a big grin on his face, “The lord will be delighted when I bring you to him.” “You disgust me,” you growled, feeling your energy burn brighter inside you, itching to rip the rotten flame from this poor excuse of a man. Behind you, you could feel Yuta’s own energy shift but you paid it no mind. He wouldn’t interfere. This was your test.
The knight slowly approached you, step after step and you could already smell that he reeked of alcohol. “Stop right there,” you demanded, focusing on his energy. Against your expectation he actually halted in his steps before he started to laugh at you. That was it. You wouldn’t allow him to harm another person anymore. Determined, you reached out with your own energy, gripping his firmly and tugging just like you had learned it. The man promptly choked on his laugh, clutching his chest tightly, looking at you with wide eyes. His lips moved with silent pleas and it only made you feel more disgusted than you already were. How did he have the audacity to beg for forgiveness after all he had done? “You disgust me,” you spat before you tugged for a last time, feeling how the energy separated from his body that limply fell to the ground. A great sense of satisfaction filled you and you couldn’t fight the laughter that bubbled from your chest. You could feel his energy course through and around you, seemingly growing now that it wasn’t trapped anymore, latching onto your body as it was the closest living thing. The feeling was indescribable. To feel this much energy coursing through you was incredible but after a moment you knew that you couldn’t hold it, the foreign energy trying to force itself inside you alongside your own energy.
Redirect. You had to redirect it before it ate you alive. Your eyes flickered from the trees to the end of the bridge to the sky above you, covered by dark storm clouds. Without thinking too much, you balled up your own energy, giving the foreign one a firm push upwards, forcing it out of your body and towards the clouds instead. Like a thread that suddenly snapped, the energy left you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.
A loud rumbling noise could be heard from above and you knew that you hadn’t made the smartest decision with where you had redirected the energy to. The next thing you felt was a firm chest that you were pressed against and the smell of burning wood and static filling the air. “My little apprentice,” Yuta whispered fondly, gently cupping your cheek. His green eyes were sparkling and if you didn’t know better, you would say that he looked proud of what you had done. “Did I do good?” You asked, looking around his shoulder to see the damage on the bridge. A flash of lightning must have hit it exactly where you and the man’s corpse had been just moments prior, the wood now black and burning. “You did better than I had ever whished for,” Yuta answered, pressing your shivering body tightly against his chest, whispering words of praise into your hair as the reality of what you had just done came crushing down to you, making your body shake with the sobs you let out. You hated yourself for crying. But you weren’t crying for the man. He had deserved what had happened to him. You were crying because it was you who had done it. You weren’t just a human anymore and Yuta had forced you to accept it. You weren’t what was considered normal. You had special powers now, dangerous powers and the only other person that could ever understand and shared the weight that came with those powers was holding you in his arms right now.
“Let’s go home,” Yuta gently spoke, pressing a kiss to your hair and you could only nod and try to not get lost in his eyes when he loosened his grip on you.
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“You’re ready.” Puzzled you looked up from where you were reading in one of the big spellbooks in the armchair in front of the fire, Ten curled up in your lap. “You’re ready to get your revenge. You know all you need to know,” Yuta explained himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest where he was leaning against his kitchen counter. When you still couldn’t find the words to tell your master how you were feeling, he continued: “It’s not far to the castle from here. The lord is having a banquet in the evening; all of the royals will be gathered. It’s a great opportunity. You shouldn’t miss it. Ten can show you the way.” “You’re not coming with me?” You asked in a small voice. As much as you still wanted the royals to pay, you had thought that Yuta would help you when it came down to get your revenge. The castle was filled with guards and knights after all. How were you supposed to get in and out of there without being seen? Especially when your plan was to kill the rotten men in charge. “I told you I wouldn’t kill anyone for you. I promised to teach you everything you needed to know so you can get your revenge. And I have done that. There is much more to our powers than just this but I did what I promised and now it’s time for you to do what you need to do.” Before you could argue or voice your concerns, Ten stretched his body in your lap so he could glare at Yuta, a disapproving sound leaving his throat. “Shut up, cat,” Yuta just growled when Ten wouldn’t stop complaining, angrily hissing by now. “I don’t care what you think,” the warlock exclaimed, throwing on his cloak, “Take her to the castle.” After taking a deep breath, he turned to lock eyes with you, a sad smile playing on his lips and added: “Make me proud my little apprentice.”
With that you were left alone in Yuta’s house that had become your home as well. You couldn’t understand the words he had just said. He was throwing you out. Had it all just been this to him and nothing more? Was he just trying to fulfill his promise all these weeks? Did you mean nothing to him? “He is a headstrong idiot,” Ten sighed, his smooth voice like honey for your soul, “You belong here with us and he will realize that eventually.” “Thank you,” you whispered, scratching Ten behind his ears until his purring filled the silence of the room. “And I am not just saying that because Yuta can’t seem to get that spot right there,” he added. You couldn’t hold your giggle, fondly smiling at the cat that you had gotten so close with. “He is right about you being ready though. We should leave soon.” “I have no idea how I should get in and out though. The place must be bursting with guards,” you voiced your concerns. “You would be surprised by how careless the royals are sometimes, they think they’re invincible.” Taking a deep breath, you felt out your own energy, feeling your fire burn brighter with excitement that you could finally give the royals what they deserved. “I’ll show them just how vulnerable they still are,” you said, your voice sounding more determined than you could have wished for. “That’s my girl,” Ten cheered you on, jumping from your lap onto the floor. “I’ll bring you to the castle but I won’t be a big help in this body.” You just nodded, gathering some things you had wanted to take with you: A couple of charged gems and the little dagger Yuta had given you a while back with a slender blade but sharpened to perfection. Lastly you got your cloak to conceal your red hair and green eyes that were a dead giveaway of your true nature. “Ready?” Ten asked, waiting for you outside. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered, following the creature inside the forest.
When the castle came in sight, you said your farewell to Ten, squeezing his lithe body against your chest to his great dismay. Many people were bringing different things through the big gates and carriage after carriage brought in more supposedly rich and important people. For a while you just leaned against the big walls that surrounded the castle, feeling out the different energies. Of course there were the ordinary energies from the servants and most of the guards that were patrolling mostly on the high walls but the deeper you felt inside the castle, the more rotten energies you could feel, making you sick to the stomach. Your rage was only fueled when you carefully made your way into the courtyard and you could feel distressed and terrified energies further into the castle as well, some of their flames so terrifyingly small that they must belong to some kidnapped girls who were barely holding on to their life.
Waiting for a chance to slip into the more private rooms of the castle, you watched the servants scrambling around behind their masters who for the most time either ignored or scolded them and when a lady screamed at a little boy who had tripped and let some of the stuff he had been carrying drop to the floor, you couldn’t help yourself but to give her energy a quick push only enough to make her heart stutter once before she lost her footing and fell herself. The secret smile the boy quickly hid behind a blank expression was enough thanks for you.
“When is this fortune teller coming around?” One of the guards suddenly asked another one who had just come out of the castle. “She should have been here since the morning and the lord is getting restless, he is snapping at every servant who is coming into his chambers.” A fortune teller? That seemed almost too perfect to be true. Pulling your hood further into your face, you slipped from the shadows and made your way towards the guards. “Good afternoon,” you greeted the guards, honey dripping from your voice, “The lord of this castle sent for me, he wished to know about his future.” The older of the guards slowly let his gaze wander over your form before he reached out a hand to lower your hood. “Don’t,” you hissed, taking a step back. “Come on, leave her alone,” the younger groaned, “I can’t take the lord’s bad mood anymore.” The older one gave you one last once-over before he deemed you no threat and shrugged his shoulders. “You bring her to him, I’m going to the kitchens.”
If you had known how easy it would be to see the lord, you wouldn’t have been this nervous before entering the castle. “Wait in here for him,” the guard told you after he had dropped you off in a small saloon that was just filled with a big sofa and a vanity that displayed big jewels. In the middle of the room stood a small table with a crystal ball on top and you could only barely hold in your laughter. The only problem with this room was that there was nothing you could redirect the lord’s energy to once you had killed him. No fire or plants. This was anything but ideal. Hastily you sat down in front of the crystal ball when you felt the lord approach. You needed a different plan. Either you needed to let this perfect opportunity pass and try to kill him later or you had to do it without your powers. Suddenly the dagger in your pocket felt like it was as heavy as a bag of stones, the handle digging into your hand. You couldn’t let this opportunity pass. You had to take it. Even if it meant that you had to kill him like this. You could do this. This was no different than the guard you had killed.
When you felt the energy of the lord approach, you took another deep breath, searching out your energy for comfort. “Leave us alone,” the lord’s voice commanded the guard who had lead him inside and just like that you were alone with him in the room. You had never seen the lord in person and you didn’t know what you had expected but you thought that his appearance suited his energy: He was a rather small man with greasy black hair. His stomach was rounded and he smelled like he had bathed in perfume to gloss over how bad he smelled. “Finally you are here,” he spoke and even his voice was unattractive, his tone nasally and off pitch, likely from too much alcohol. You just wordlessly nodded your head, not deeming him worthy for words of greetings either. “Sit down so we can get started.”   “I don’t like your attitude woman,” he snarled, looking down at you from his reddened eyes, “You are different than the last one that came.” “I have my special ways to see what the future holds for you,” you simply answered, dragging your dagger from your pocket and placing it onto the table. At that the unruly eyebrows of the man shot up. “Are you threatening me?” “I would never dare to,” you gritted, fighting the sarcasm from creeping into your tone, “But nothing is purer than what your blood could tell me.”
The lord seemed to think about your words for a while, if he was even capable of that. But his energy seemed to calm down after a while when he sat down opposite of you. “Very well,” you smiled, pulling out a couple of the gems you had and placed them on the table, “Please hold your palms up.” When the lord did as you asked, you took a deep breath and willed your hands to not shake when you were grabbing for the dagger. It was rather small in comparison to Yuta’s favorite ones but it should do its job just as good as any other dagger he had in his collection. You really hadn’t thought all of this through. But you needed to do this. For all the girls living on this lord’s lands. You weren’t close enough to him to hurt him much with the dagger and if you weren’t quick enough and he’d sense your true intentions, he would call for the guards. And when you had nowhere to redirect their energy to, you were basically helpless.
“I don’t have all day,” the lord complained when you hadn’t moved after a while. “I was concentrating on your energy, you disgusting piece of shit,” you spat out, making an on-the-spot decision to stop the charade. Quickly, before he could even completely fathom your words, you gave his energy a push to render him breathless for a while which gave you just enough time to leap over the table to ram your dagger into the fat of his neck. With a furiously beating heart, you watched his eyes widen and his throat gurgle with the blood that was flowing into his lungs and seeping from the wound when you pulled your dagger back out. Unable to move your body, you watched him convulse in pain until he stopped moving altogether, his eyes open wide and unseeing. Slowly you could feel his flame getting smaller and smaller until you couldn’t detect it anymore. You had done it. The lord was dead.
Just like the last time when you had killed, the reality came crashing back down to you after the adrenaline had seeped from your body and you felt your hand shaking that still clutched the dagger tightly. When you looked down and saw it covered in the lord’s blood, you instinctively let the dagger fall, the noise unnaturally loud in the silent room.  Your breathing picked up and you felt panic rise in your chest. How were you going to get back out of here? You were drenched in blood and people would surely start to miss the lord soon. Yuta had been wrong, you weren’t ready for this. Bile rose too your mouth and tears were collecting in your eyes. You were done for; they would burn you in the courtyard while laughing at you for your foolish plan to take all the rotten royals out.
“My little apprentice,” a voice said behind you and through your tears you looked up into Yuta’s familiar face. “What are you doing here?” You sobbed, balling your blood smeared hands to fists, your nails digging into your palms. “I thought you had left me.” “Watching out for you, what else?” He smiled, pulling you away from the lord’s corpse and against his chest, not minding that you were staining his cloak with blood. His calming energy engulfed you like a cloud and slowly evened out your own untamed energy and eventually helped you to even out your breathing. “There are a lot more people here than I expected,” you mumbled when your tears had stopped falling, growing basically boneless in Yuta’s hold. “We’re going to take care of them together,” Yuta promised, pressing a kiss to your hair before he loosened his hold on you and took a look around the lord’s room, picking up some of the expensive looking jewelry that was laying around.
“The banquet has already begun,” you spoke after you had felt out the remaining rotten energies, all bundled up in the big hall, “They will become suspicious if he’s not coming down soon.” “I have always had a thing for dramatic entrances,” the warlock grinned, loosening his cloak so it fell to the ground, “How about we interrupt this boring dinner they are having right now and heat this place up a little? There is this nice little fire in the fireplace to keep them warm but I feel like it could use a little more energy.” His words made you mirror the wicked grin that had started to spread on his lips. “Lead the way,” you spoke, ready to teach all the rotten royals a lesson. With Yuta by your side, you knew that you couldn’t fail.
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Together you stood in front of the burning castle, a little further up the hill and hidden by trees, listening to the people screaming in agony. When you turned your head to look at Yuta, the orange flames of the fire beautifully illuminated his features despite the ashes that were clinging to his cheeks and the fact that he was missing half an eyebrow that must have gotten burned off, his lips crooked into a cocky grin. “Nothing more beautiful than the chaos some little flames can cause,” he spoke before he tore his gaze from the castle and looked at you instead. Tenderly he reached out to wipe the splatters of blood on your cheeks away, just smearing them further onto your skin in the process. “You look beautiful like this,” he whispered, his green eyes sparkling dangerously. “I’m a mess,” you argued, feeling how the blood on your hands was slowly drying. “The most beautiful mess I have ever seen.” Before you could argue any further, the warlock connected your lips in a bruising kiss, pressing your body close to his. He tasted of smoke, blood and danger but to you it tasted like the most intoxicating drink you ever had the pleasure of tasting.
“What are you doing, Yuta?” You breathed against his lips when his hands had slipped beneath your shirt, nails raking over the skin of your stomach. “Unleashing your full powers,” he groaned, all but ripping the garment over your head before roughly connecting your lips again. “What do you mean?” “Stop asking so many questions,” the warlock growled, sucking harshly on the skin of your neck, obviously not bothered by the blood clinging to your skin. You could just mewl and desperately clutch onto him, afraid your legs would give out. Once Yuta was satisfied with how dark the mark on your neck had turned he gripped your hair to yank your head back so he could kiss you again. Still high on the adrenaline from before, you shamelessly moaned into his mouth when he kept your strands of hair in a firm grip to angle your head just how he wanted. Grinning against your lips, he used his chance to slip his tongue between your parted lips, turning the kiss downright filthy. “Yuta,” you sighed when he parted from you, both of you panting heavily while staring into each other’s green eyes. Blood was smeared onto both of your faces now and you had stained his shirt with the blood clinging to our hands. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his hands wandering to where the wrappings around your chest were fastened, “Tell me to unleash your full potential, my little witch.” Before you could answer, he leaned in to steal another kiss while he tugged on the cloth that had kept your breasts covered. “You don’t even know how fucking hot you are like this,” he groaned against your lips, roughly grabbing your boobs to massage the soft flesh, sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. “Do it,” you moaned, arching your back towards the warlock, “Do it, Yuta.”
A deep growl came from his chest and with quick movements he rid himself of his singed shirt and stepped out of his pants to stand before you completely naked safe for the ashes and blood clinging to his skin. His cock was already hard and hanging heavy between his legs. With a dangerous smile on his spit slicked lips, he crowded you against the trunk of a tree, the bark digging roughly into your back. With only so much as a flick of his wrist, the warlock had you naked as well and raked his widely blown eyes over the exposed skin. “My little witch, so beautiful,” he rasped, pressing his lips to the mark he had created on your neck, making you hiss in both pain and pleasure. Chuckling he grabbed one of your thighs to wrap it around his waist, exposing your most private part to him. But before you even had time to think about what you were about to do and how improper it was, Yuta had snaked a hand between your bodies to cup your sex, slowly grinding the heel of his palm in your clit which tore a loud moan from your lips that mingled with the screams you could still hear in the distance.
A grin spread on Yuta’s lips when you threw your head back and moaned unashamed when one of his fingers played around your entrance, teasing but never slipping inside, making more and more wetness seep from your core. “You want it?” He asked, pinching the skin of your thigh that he still held tightly to get your attention. “I already told you to do it,” you whined, grinding your hips in an attempt to finally make his finger slip inside you. “When will my little apprentice finally learn to answer my questions properly?” He sighed, bringing his hand down on your wet folds, creating a wet slapping noise that brought blood to your face. The mixture of pain and pleasure made your head swim even more than the adrenaline had minutes ago. “Answer your master,” Yuta growled, bringing his hand down a second time, causing you to jolt in his hold. “Do it already,” you groaned, burying your hands in his unruly red hair to kiss him again, wasting no time to lick into his mouth. If anything you were a fast learner and tried to match Yuta in the kiss. While you were distracted with kissing the life out of him, he finally slipped one of his fingers inside you, making you gasp and break the kiss. “Feels good?” He grinned as he began to move his finger at a steady pace before quickly adding a second one, stretching you out. “Yeah, feels good, master,” you breathed. You could feel Yuta’s breath hitch against your lips before he let out a row of colorful curses, speeding up the motion of his fingers. “Say it again,” he growled. “Say what again?” You hiccupped, holding onto his shoulders tightly, the pleasure making your head swim. “Call me your master,” the warlock growled, crooking his fingers inside you so you saw stars behind your eyes, punching all air from your lungs. “Master, please,” you choked out, burying your nails in his shoulder to drag them down his back, leaving angry red lines and a trail of smeared blood.
Cursing, Yuta pulled his fingers from your core, making a distressed mewls leave your lips. He just chuckled breathlessly at your reaction but before you had the time to even feel ashamed, you felt the blunt head of his cock slip inside you, the feeling so foreign and overwhelming that you had to close your eyes. Yuta slowly pushed inside deeper and deeper until your bodies were as flush together as the position was allowing you to. “Fuck you’re squeezing me so tightly,” Yuta cursed and breathed heavily into your ear. You could only mewl instead of answering properly; you had never felt like this in your entire life. You felt your energy bounce around wildly in your chest, slowly expanding and turning deeper in shade. But before you had any chance to take a closer took, Yuta pulled his hips back and thrust right back into you, pulling loud moans from both of you. “You feel it?” He groaned, slowly picking up his pace, “Feel how your powers grow?”
“I couldn’t care less about any of my powers right now,” you whined, yanking Yuta close by the hair on his nape to crash your lips together to stop yourself from moaning out loudly. “So feisty,” he breathlessly chuckled against your lips, “Hold on tightly.” In a heartbeat he had twirled you around to lay you down into the grass instead. Watching your expression closely, he thrust back inside you, causing you to moan loudly with how deep he was inside you now. The feeling was so overwhelming that you clamped your thighs tightly around his frame and threw your head back with a loud moan. “That’s it, let me hear you,” the warlock moaned, caging you between his arms before he started to move his hips in quick thrusts that made stars spark behind your closed eyelids. You didn’t have any brainpower left to even remotely feel embarrassed by how loud you were being, instead digging your fingers into Yuta’s shoulders to pull him back down into a messy kiss that was more tongue and panting into each other’s mouths than anything else.
“Look at me my little witch,” Yuta panted when his trusts were getting erratic and you felt like the energy inside you was ready to burst and explode in thousand little stars. Just when your emerald eyes met his piercing gaze and you saw how his eyes were filled with so much more than just lust, you couldn’t help yourself anymore and let go of the coil inside your stomach, letting the pleasure overwhelm your body while moaning your master’s name. Seconds after you heard Yuta moan your own name while he pressed inside you for one last time, his back arched and lips parted. Around you, the air was buzzing with energy, almost singing with how potent it was. For a while you just looked at each other, breathing heavily, silly smiles on both of your lips before Yuta leaned down to connect them in a tender kiss.
“You two disgust me,” a familiar voice suddenly broke the delicate silence but this time it wasn’t inside your head. When both Yuta and you looked to the side, you saw a slender man with jet black hair sitting in the grass not far from you, looking back at you with familiar amber eyes. “But I can’t say I hate what you managed to do,” Ten added, looking at his delicate hands. “Go stare at some other people fucking, you creep,” Yuta growled, covering your body with his. “But I finally had something different to see than you sadly beating your meat or trying out questionable spells,” Ten teased, poking out his tongue. “If you don’t leave right now, I will find a way to trap you inside a frog next time.” “I’d love to see you try, honey,” Ten laughed before he actually left to give you some privacy.
“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled into Yuta’s chest where you had hidden your face that must have the same color as his hair at this point. “Don’t mind him,” Yuta smiled, kissing your forehead, then your nose and both of your cheeks before pecking your lips. “I can’t look Ten in the eyes anymore,” you groaned, making the warlock laugh. “Let’s not talk about him when I’m still inside you,” Yuta whispered, grinding your hips together to prove his point. “Let’s make him wait for a bit longer.”
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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago
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When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson
IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.
Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff
Words: 2.8k
A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.
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Masterlist
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The Orpheum, 1995
The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.
“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.
Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”
“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”
“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.
“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”
The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.
“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.
You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.
“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”
Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.
“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.
Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.
“Sorry!”
“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”
“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.
“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”
The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.
As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 
“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 
Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 
“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.
A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.
From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.
The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.
“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.
Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”
Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.
“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”
“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.
The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.
“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.
“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.
Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”
“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 
Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.
“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.
But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.
The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.
You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.
How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.
You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.
“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.
“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.
Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 
“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”
“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 
What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 
“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.
“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.
“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”
“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.
“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”
“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”
“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.
“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.
Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”
“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”
“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.
“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.
Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.
“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 
You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.
“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 
“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.
“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”
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Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002
An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.
Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.
Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.
“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”
“Not a soccer player?”
“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”
As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.
“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”
You didn’t need to be asked twice. 
“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”
Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.
“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”
“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”
“We’re all a little crazy.”
Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.
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