#they gave him fangs and claws and the cool arm blade things?? AND HE GLOWS???

[cainternn]

the coolest spiderman

[greenygreenland]

The Floor Is Lava: (Platonic) 501st x Jedi Reader

-saw something about the floor is lava and imagined this in my head at like 3am

-note, you are a jedi padawan of shaak ti’s with your own squad (who are actually my ocs lol). They are called the Nebula Squad (the squad is actually from Wannabe, another one of my Star Wars fanfics)

-basically, you are someone who acts alone (without your master) and goes on special ops missions. you team up with anakin a lot

-CAN BE READ WITHOUT HAVING TO READ WANNABE

Summary: The floor is lava.

Spring came early. Too early. Maybe it was the fact that this planet had short winters, or the fact that you just weren't used to the warm breezes and scorching heat. After being stationed on Hoth for a good two weeks, you adjusted to the climate. With that came the curse of low heat tolerance.

"I'm going to die." you grumbled.

Your mission was in the more civilised (that was how one of your boys put it) regions of the planet. For some strange reason only the Force knew, your ship broke down in the worst place: a deserted village. Why was this the worst place? Because there was no way you could repair a broken ship without spare parts.

And where were spare parts located? In the city you were supposed to land in. Great, just great.

“(Y/n), can’t we contact General Skywalker for assistance?” inquired Nova. “We are supposed to RV with them anyway.”

Nova was your friend and assigned clone Commander. He, like you, had a knack for getting into sticky situations. Usually he was the one with the plan B, not you. “I can ask Grav and Nimbus if they can get a signal out over there.” He pointed to the mountain on your right. It was tall with a jagged top, where thick forests of luscious greenery sprouted out all over.

Yeah, good luck getting through that.

“You mean to tell me there’s no signal here?” you inquired. “Just how remote is this place?” Even with that bucket over Nova’s face, you knew he was frowning and holding back a long sigh. “Intel said--”

“Intel’s always wrong.” cut in a voice. You peered over Nova’s broad shoulders and met gazes with another member of your squad, Icee. He was just as tall as Nova, sporting the Squad’s signature purple stripes and it’s logo--a nebula. Over his shoulder, he held tight to a sniper rifle. The thing was a beauty, as well as his baby.

“The three things you can never trust are the weather forecast, the canteen menu, and intel. Plain and simple, vode.” Icee added. You shook your head, swatting a few mosquitoes away with a wave of your hand. “If that big ‘ol mountain is the only place we can get a signal from, then I say we go. All of us.”

Nova nodded in agreement. He shouldered his pack, adjusted a few straps on his kama and weapons, and motioned for the rest of the squad to move out. “Is there anything we should know about the wildlife here?” he inquired. “My HUD’s picking up the usual birds and rascals. I’d rather not risk it though. Remember Felucia?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the mention of that jungle-hell. Everywhere you walked lay a deadly plant in need of its next meal. They snuck up on you too, striking out of nowhere like the silence of night. Your number one rule there was not to touch anything.

“There are a few carnivorous plants south of here,” answered Nimbus. “Besides that, all we have to worry about are the birds.” You admired the way he was able to brief everyone so quickly. The only other clone you’ve met with such a well of info was Tech, a member of Clone Force 99.

“What do the birds look like?” you inquired. Nimbus scrunched up his face under that bucket of his. “I don’t think you wanna know.” Grav squinted at the screen and pushed his brother’s head with the back of his hand. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but you sensed a lingering annoyance in the air after. 

“What, you scared of some little bird Nimbus?“ he teased. Nimbus wordlessly flipped over his datapad for everyone to see. The screen displayed a large bird-like creature with long fangs covered in drool. Its eyes were beady and bloodthirsty, as if it wanted you to be its next meal.

Nimbus scanned over the heading. “This is a...uh...Kah-rah...Kahl-ram-dah-lahm-dahl...?”

“Kara’dalamb’da.” corrected Storm. He pulled off his helmet, the low ponytail of his fanning out in the warm breezes. “I’ve read about them once. They’re not the type of creatures I’d want to run into. They drag you to their caves, pull you apart limb, and then chew you alive. The worst part is that they don’t eat you.”

Nimbus knitted his brows together. “So we’re like chewing gum to them?”

“Exactly.” Storm affirmed. “They come out at night time, then stay around till dawn before hiding in their caves.” Icee blanched and you couldn’t blame him. You were all heading towards the mountains, where plenty of caves and labyrinths lay. There were probably tons of those Kara-whatevers waiting for their dinner.

You folded your hands together with a tight frown. “Is there another way of getting a signal to Anakin?” George shook his head sadly. You sensed an overwhelming amount of resignation rolling off his shoulders. “No. Even if I tried use long-range comms, it wouldn’t work. There’s too much interfering with the signal.”

There was a chance you could telepathically contact Anakin. He’d answer in an instant and personally come to find you. But that would drain your energy. Your boys needed you more than you needed to contact Ani. If you became dead-weight then it would compromise the mission.

“Alright,” you decided. “We have twelve hours to scale that mountain and hurry our shebs to the ship. If we don’t make it back in time, consider ourselves toast.”

You wished you’d consider yourself toast from the start. If that were the case, then you wouldn’t be running for your life. The mission up was a success. You managed to reach the highest point on the mountain in less than eight hours by ways of a local trail (Nimbus noted that this was a popular tourist spot in autumn). Then you contacted Rex, who promised to RV at the foot of the mountain.

The way down was a different story.

It was dusk when you made your descend. The moon rose into the sky while the sun shied away, and if it weren’t for the boys and their helmet lamps, you wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. At first, the walk back was completely fine. The boys were in good spirits and you weren’t hungry for (favourite food).

But then it didn’t go well.

It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t see the giant jaws of death looming over you, or Nimbus, who started arguing with Grav. Again. It also wasn’t you fault that George so happened to trip over a rock and slam into Sapnap, who tried breaking his fall by grabbing onto Halo’s arm. The three went down together, and with the heavy clanking of katarn-class armour, you were sure the whole animal kingdom heard the show.

And that was how the Nebula Squad found themselves in this mess, fleeing from the horrifying Kara’dalamb’da.

“This is your fault Grav!” cried Nimbus. They bumped heads and it took all your willpower not to join the screaming match. “Shut up,” replied Grav. “You were the one who started it!” Nimbus gritted his teeth. “You who else started this?” he seethed. “Them!” He pointed over his shoulder at Halo, George, and Sapnap. They were the ones who had fallen, after all. Why else did the beast wake up?

“It wasn’t my fault!” cried George. Sapnap scoffed and it was lost to the screech of the oversized bird above. “No one said it was your fault anyway! You just have a guilty conscious!”

You eyed the bird with a sharp scowl. It flew higher, into the haunting light of the moon and across the stars. It gave a great screech again. You covered your ears as a shiver ran down your spine. “Is there any place we can hide from that thing? I’m pretty sure it can smell us from klicks away!”

“That’s correct Commander!” Nimbus congratulated. By the light aura around his shoulders, you guessed him and Grav already made up. They always had petty arguments anyway. “The Kara’dalamb’da has an incredible sense of smell and a wingspan of about ten meters! That’s pretty cool.”

Storm stared at his brother in bewilderment. “How is that cool?” he demanded. “You want to be chop suey for that thing? Be my guest.” Halo laughed a little. You knew he was doing it to shake off his nerves. “Why’d you have to go on and say that? Now I’m going to start singing.”

You scanned the forest. For miles, it seemed to be only forest, wildlife, and bare nature. A flicker of...something cut through your senses. Calculating, at the ready, and deadly. You paused in your step, Storm mimicking you. He met your gaze. “You sense it too?”

“Maybe it’s them.”

You heard them before you saw them.

“Blast that bird out of the sky!”

A squad of 501st troops rustled through the trees. They were silent as the night, save for one trooper who decided to whisper-shout a ‘hi’ to your squad. Their formation, lame as it was, worked in their favour. They raised their blaster, lighting up the sky with bright bolts of blue.

“Can we get a rocket launcher over here?”

“Yes, sir!”

The bird dropped out of the sky with a cry, razor-sharp teeth bared and claws at the ready. It was coming closer, diving faster. You pulled out your lightsaber and thumbed it on.

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

You heaved in a deep breath and leapt into the moonlight. Your robes fluttered in the wind, and your hair whipped in arc of (hair colour). It was like you had wings. Time slowed and you raised your lightsaber. It came down in a neat slash across the beast’s neck.

You tumbled through the air and met the ground in a roll. The beast fell behind with a loud THUMP!. You turned off your glowing blade and stashed it away on your belt. The adrenaline keeping your nerves hidden away was slowing, and the realisation that you just murdered a beast settled into your mind.

Part of you wished things could have been different. But what choice did you have?

“Commander!” called Nova, stopping by your side. “Are you okay?” You smiled and he heaved out a sigh of relief. “That was some jump, but now look.” He pointed to your dirt-covered robes. It wasn’t a big deal, but to someone like Nova, it was an issue.

“Here.” Nova helped you dust off the robe with a few pats. “That’s better.”

“Oh, it didn’t look bad.” you stated. He folded his arms across his chest. “That’s what you always say (Y/n).” You grinned and bumped shoulders with him. He replied by playfully shaking his head with a sigh.

A familiar boy made his way towards you. Even through the moonlight struggling through the thick canopies, you saw the chipped blue paint. “Rex,” you greeted. “Thanks for the assistance. Although, I wish you toned it down a bit. You made my squad look like a bunch of young fools.” A loud ‘hey’ sounded from your boys, but you elected to ignore it with a grin.

“Your squad did a phenomenal job in staying alive that long.” Rex said with a chuckle. “And besides, you stole the show in the end. The boys had fun watching your display.” You three shared a warm laugh that reminded you of the sun.

Speaking of sun, was it just you or did it get brighter outside? You looked up to gaze at the moon. It still stood high in the sky, just as before. The stars were out too, bright and clear as ever. So why had the temperature risen so quickly? It was at least another eight hours till dawn. That was more than enough time for the moon to stay out.

A scattered cluster of birds flew from out of the trees. Was it just you or was the forest getting really silent? Owls refused to hoot, those kara-whatevers weren’t screeching from their caves, and crickets stopped chirping their calming songs.

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH!”

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS HERE!”

“I THOUGHT IT WAS IN THE SOUTH!”

You spun around so fast that you could have gotten whiplash. Sapnap, George, and Halo sprinted from out of the thick trees with their helmet lights on the highest setting. You squinted behind them. Something had to be chasing them, otherwise they wouldn’t be sprinting like track stars.

But you didn’t see any deadly animals, nor did you sense them. All that was left was an...

...an eerie silence.

You thought back to the briefing. Back to the meeting you nearly fell asleep in. If it weren’t for Icee kicking your feet every now and then, then you would have passed out completely.

“On this outer rim planet, I suggest you be careful,” Obi-wan had said. “The locals reported the activity of volcanoes erupting unexpectedly. They believe it has to do with an angry spirit plaguing their land, but we’ve found out the Separatists have a hand behind this.”

“Do you know where these volcanoes are, General Kenobi?” inquired Grav. He shook his head. “No, but I’m sure you won’t have to know. The city under siege is our main objective. You will rendezvous with Anakin there.”

Sapnap, George, and Halo motioned for everyone to move. There was a flicker of movement behind them. Fives emerged from the bushes in a frantic sort of panic. “LAVA!” he cried. “THE FLOOR IS LITERALLY LAVA!”

That was all it took for everyone to run. As uncoordinated as the retreat was, having lava behind you wasn’t exactly something anyone could stay calm about. The glowing magma was faster than it was supposed to be, and you had a feeling it was because it had a nice flow coming out of the planet’s core.

“Talk about an intense game of ‘the floor is lava’!” Hardcase shouted with a laugh. Jesse ‘pffted’. “I thought being chased by lava would be worse! This isn’t nearly as bad as last mission!”

Last mission? Oh, what was Ani doing to these poor souls? Your shoulders slumped in defeat. They were so nonchalant. How? Burning to death in lava was said to be the most painful death, and you’d rather not be Gollum in his last moments on Mount Doom.

“Why don’t you turn that frown upside down?” inquired Fives. You hadn’t even realised he’d caught up with you. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just a bit of lava!”

You threw a hand over your shoulder and pointed to the glowing, hot mass. It burned through everything it touched. A fire was beginning to catch too, and all the smoke and ash from it wasn’t doing you any good. “Just a bit of lava? Well how would you feel running into that?”

“I don’t know!” he retorted. “Never tried it!”

“If you did, then you’d be dead!” Kix shouted. You face-palmed. “That’s a bit of a no-brainer!” Fives pulled off his helmet. The grin smacked upon his lips didn’t leave. “Who’s up for a round of ‘the floor is lava’?”

“Me!” said Jesse.

“And me!” added Hardcase.

“You guys need to cool it.” Kix said. “But don’t leave me out, I want to play too.”

You let out a long sigh. The 501st may have saved your skin today, but tomorrow? They’d probably get you killed.

TIP JAR <--- (if you’re feeling nice)

[everything-is-by-design]

Unpretty

Female reader. Reader has an unusual gift of healing and struggles with body image. Reader is plus sized. I’ve got a thing for Dom!Luci and I am not ashamed. Remember that you are beautiful no matter what size you are and whoever disagrees, send them to me and I’ll take care of it. Enjoy folks!

Word Count: 3.5k

Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Self harm, body image issues, unprotected sex, Dom!Lucifer

After a date gone wrong, the reader has an emotional outburst. Lucifer shows up just in time to help her out of her funk.

You tried to breathe evenly as you looked into the coffee shop through a large bay window. You hadn’t been on a date in a while and were a little nervous. You met this guy off a dating site and he seemed pretty normal. Which is something that you longed for after living with the Winchesters for the past few months. Angels, demons, vampires, werewolves. So many monsters and not enough normalcy to even it out.

The place you picked out was small but cozy, inside of an old house, it was your favourite place in the outside world. It was called the Tea House, pretty simple but you enjoyed it. You caught sight of him, a little relieved that he beat you there, less chance he would stand you up that way. It was summer so you didn’t have on any heavy layers, nothing to conceal the extra weight you carried. This put you on edge quite a bit. But you decided not to let it bother you too much. Not everyone is an asshole.

You took a deep breath and headed inside. You stopped in front of your date. You cleared your throat. He looked up from his phone. You smiled, “Hi, Cody? It’s Y/N, from Plenty of Fish.”

He hesitated briefly but returned your smile with one of his own. He stood up, “Hey, let me get you a coffee.”

You nodded and sat down, hanging your bag over the back of the chair while Cody went up to the front counter and ordered your drink. You drummed your fingers anxiously on the table as you waited for him. You frowned, already feeling your thighs sticking to the finished wood of the chair. You looked over your outfit again; black shorts and a red spaghetti strap tank, and red converse to match. You thought you looked good and you tried to put your judgements to the side for the time being.

Cody returned with your drink and the two of you began chatting. You talked for a little over an hour and you internally smiled to yourself. Could this be it? An actual normal guy who didn’t have fangs or claws or glowing eyes? At the end of the date you both left the Tea House and stood out front. Was he going to kiss me or should I kiss him first?

“Thank you for the coffee and the chats. I had a lot of fun,” You smiled.

His smile looked genuine but you’d been easily deceived before. “I did too.”

“So?” You asked eagerly, “Do you think we’ll—”

“Listen, Y/N, I had a good time, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think this is going to work out.” Cody stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, trying to avoid eye contact.

Don’t say what I think you’re going to say. You thought. “Uh, why?”

“I just don’t think we’re a good match,” He said.

Okay, that’s fair. You reasoned. Don’t dig deeper, you don’t need to know why. But you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh?”

Cody’s demeanour changed from being nervous to arrogant in a split second. “Look, it’s cute that you thought you even had a chance with a guy like me. I mean look at me, stellar looks and rock hard abs, I’m a catch. But girl, there’s way too much junk in your trunk. I’m a ten and you’re a two. Maybe ease off the burgers and pizza for a while. Later.”

He left shortly after his explanation, laughing as he passed by you. You stood there, shocked, holding on tightly to the strap of your bag. Your breathing was quick and unsteady as tears welled up in your eyes. A sudden vibration snapped you out of the moment and you looked at your phone. It was a text from Dean.

Hey, Y/N, hope your date went well. Lucifer showed up. Keep your guard up when you get back if we’re not there. Call if you need us.

You blinked through your tears and put your phone away. Immediately you started walking back to the bunker. You got there after thirty minutes and slammed the door behind you. Running down the stairs, you bypassed the library where Sam and Dean were sitting. Dean’s voice called out to you but you didn’t hear it. You reached your room and slammed that door too. You threw your bag across the room. It hit the wall and fell to the floor with a quiet thud. You paced the room, feeling nothing but pure rage devouring any sadness you’d previously felt.

You pawed at your arm, desperate to feel something other than the pain you were feeling in your gut. You looked up at the wall above your bed where various hunting blades were hung. You grabbed onto the closest one, relatively small, and held it to your forearm. You growled as you pressed the blade against your arm but didn’t puncture the skin. You snarled viciously as you threw the blade across the room where it clattered against the wall and the floor.

You could feel the emotional episode taking over you bit by bit. Running your fingers through your hair, you were desperate to find a way out. You grabbed the pill bottle next to your bed. Clonazepam. Before you opened the bottle, something in the corner of the room caught your eye. You quickly changed into a sports bra and active pants and running shoes. You went over and grabbed your wraps and pink boxing gloves and wrenched the door open. You stormed down the hallway until you came to the gym.

Anger was dripping from you like rain falling off a tin roof. You dropped the gloves on the hard concrete floor as soon as you reached the bag. You wrapped your hands and went to pick up the gloves but then hesitated, leaving them on the ground and kicking them away. You took a couple of deep breaths before diving in. 

One. Two. Three. Four. 

Jab. Jab. Hook. Kick. 

Jab. Jab. Upper cut. Kick.

You unapologetically pictured Cody’s face on the bag as you laid into it with an unbreakable fury. Over and over in your head you ran through what he said to you and your insecurities were making it worse. Fat arms. Fat ass. Fat thighs. Fat stomach. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t let up, pummelling the bag mercilessly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, singling that you weren’t alone, but you ignored it. It was probably Dean trying to calm you down. Or Sam trying to let you know that it was okay to be upset. The boys were oddly protective over you and while you appreciated it, you needed your space. You needed space to be angry.

You heard footsteps approaching you and without turning around you spat venom at the intruder. “Leave me alone, Dean. I have a right to be angry.”

No answer just more footsteps. You couldn’t help the anger exploding from you and you whipped around mid-punch. A hand caught your wrist, but it wasn’t Dean’s. You stopped, sweat dripping down your face and neck as you tried to register who was standing in front of you. “That’s quite a temper you have, Y/N.”

“Lucifer,” You said breathlessly. “Nice to see you again.”

“Did I interrupt something?” He looked at you, amusement rising in his eyes at the idea of you being violent. He looked at your hand and then back at you. “You’re bleeding.”

The tingling sensation in your knuckles intensified now that you’d stopped hitting the bag. Like a fresh tattoo after the needle has stopped. The cool air of the bunker stung your broken flesh. You flexed your free hand and winced at the feeling. Your breathing was rapid but you could feel yourself smiling. Lucifer dropped your arm and pushed past you to inspect the bag. He ran his finger over the small bloody patch and then looked back at you.

“Is this a normal for you?” He questioned, almost looking angry with your life choices.

You sighed, looking down at your hands and watched as the wounds stitched themselves back together. “Anything to feel a little control.”

“You’re certainly acting out of control,” Lucifer jabbed at you.

“Watch it,” You spat, still reeling from your workout session.

He cocked an eyebrow and for a moment you thought he might kill you. You hadn’t known him that long but you could certainly tell when you’d pissed him off. And you certainly didn’t have any wiggle room to be speaking to him disrespectfully. However, you didn’t apologize. Lucifer walked towards you and you instinctually took a few steps back. He eyed you, raising his finger to his chin as if studying you. “What spurred on such rage?”

“It’s not important,” You said, fighting back tears when you thought of Cody’s words.

“It was important enough for you to hurt yourself over it,” Lucifer said. You honestly didn’t think he was going to catch onto that bit. The boys never did. And it’s not like you had any scars for them to see. That was one of the benefits of being a Healer, any cut was there long enough for you to feel and indulge in and then it vanished. It was a sick thought but it was true. “Did you honestly think I didn’t notice?”

“Why do you even care?” More anger flooded through you and you turned away from him, trying not to show emotion but failing significantly. You kept your back to him and pressed you fingers against the bridge of your nose. You accidentally let a few shuddering breaths escape your mouth as you held back the urge to cry.

“Did someone say something to you?” Lucifer pried, stepping closer to you.

“Yes,” You said, surprised that you even answered at all. You kept your back to him, not wanting him to see the silent tears flooding from your eyes. “I was on a date. It didn’t go well.”

The air in the room changed almost instantly. You could hear the venom in Lucifer’s words when he spoke to you. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Your voice broke.

Lucifer spun you around and gripped your upper arms tightly. He gave you a little shake. “Tell me,” He said slowly.

You looked down, too ashamed to meet his gaze. “He said it wouldn’t work because I was overweight.”

There was a beat of silence before he responded. “Text him and tell him to meet you and I’ll take care of it.”

A small prick of excitement passed through you at the idea of Lucifer avenging you. You had to be honest that the idea had crossed your mind too. His words made you smile wickedly, “As much fun as that would be, we can’t just go around killing people who are mean to us.”

“Why not?” Lucifer said, smirking back at you. He ran his hand down your arms sending goosebumps every which way. He moved closer to you and you felt your cheeks heat up at his proximity. His eyes softened as he wiped away your tears. “You shouldn’t cry over someone so insignificant and meaningless.”

“Who should I cry over then?” You asked.

Lucifer lifted your chin with his index finger and looked at you sternly, “No one.”

“Why do you care?” You asked again, genuinely curious.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” The angel said, before softly pressing his lips to yours.

When he pulled away, you were stunned. Why did he do that? Why would someone as beautiful as he want to be with me?

Lucifer kissed you again, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards. His kiss wasn’t soft this time though, it was forceful. He pushed you up against the wall, tugging at your pants. You broke the kiss as shame wracked you. “No, I’m not…you don’t want me.”

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot want,” Lucifer said, trailing kisses down your neck.

“B-But I’m not—” You were cut off by Lucifer’s hand as it clamped down over your mouth.

“Don’t,” Lucifer warned, tightening his grip on your mouth. “Don’t think those things about yourself. I forbid it.”

You felt a sliver of confidence rise up in your chest and you tempted to poke at the beast. You peeled his hand off of you. You smiled slyly, “What if I say no?”

He smirked before grabbing you by the throat and pushing you further into the wall. He squeezed your throat and your eyes rolled back into your head. Lucifer chuckled, “Do you really think you can win this game?”

“No, but I do like to play it,” You smiled, bravely reaching out to pull at his pants. Your hand grazed over his clothed erection. Clearly, your defiance was spurring him on. He nodded, a smirk pulling at his lips. He let go of your throat and for a moment you thought you’d gone too far. Your confidence faltered and almost instantly you were consumed with shame. I knew this was too good to be true. He doesn’t want you after all.

Lucifer spun you around, grabbing at your hands and holding them behind your back. You felt his cold breath in your ear and he leaned over you. The angel growled in your ear, “What did I say about thinking badly about yourself?”

You groaned as his free hand pulled down your pants and panties just far enough to slip his hand in. He found your clit and pressed his finger against it. You gasped at the sudden contact, squirming under his touch.

“Well?” He demanded, expecting an answer from you. His fingers moved expertly as he held your arms tightly. He bit down into your neck, finally eliciting a response from you.

“Ah! You told me not to do it,” You gasped. Lucifer praised you by slipping a finger into you, your pussy already dripping with arousal. You moaned against the wall and tried to press yourself against him.

“And what did you do?” Lucifer hissed.

Your breathing hitched in your throat, “I disobeyed you.”

“Hm, then what am I going to do with you?” He pushed in another finger, bucking his hips against your ass. His fingers pumped in and out at a merciless pace but dear god did it feel good.

“You should punish me, Sir,” You said softly, almost too scared to say it any louder in fear of spooking him.

Smack! You yelped at the hard sting of Lucifer’s hand making hard contact with your ass. “What do you think of ten? It’s a good round number.”

“It’s up to you, Sir,” You whimpered as he withdrew the hand that was pleasuring you.

“Correct. Count,” He ordered. He dropped your arms and you leaned on the wall for support. You waited for the next blow, flinching as he moved around you. You heard the unbuckling of his belt and gulped at the thought of what was coming. Smack! His belt came down on your skin hard. You flinched and leaned into the wall. “What did I say?” He snarled.

“One,” You said as pins and needles spread throughout your body. The belt came down again and you flinched against the wall, its cold bricks pressed up against your stomach. “Two.”

An intense heat dripped from your pussy with every blow from the archangel’s belt. Tears escaped your eyes, betraying your pleasure, but he didn’t let up. And honestly, you enjoyed every single bit of it. The belt stung and you were sure the soft flesh of your ass was scarlet by now. You dug your nails into the wall desperately, clawing at it as if you were trying to find something to hold onto. Lucifer’s breathing was ragged. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

His belt hit you again and you tensed up, almost leaning into his action. “Nine.” He hesitated on the last one, drawing it out. The anticipation grew so high that you whimpered, pleading with him to continue. Smack! It felt like he put his full strength into the final blow. You groaned against the wall. “T-Ten.”

You recoiled slightly when his hand came into contact with your sore skin. He rubbed the tender spot gently and leaned in to place kisses on the back of your neck. He pulled your pants down further and bent you at the hips. He ran his fingers across your slick pussy. “Such a good little whore you are. Getting so wet for me.”

He undid his zipper and pushed down his jeans, freeing his cock. He moved closer to you, his cock grazing your entrance. You leaned back, attempting to mount yourself on him. Lucifer grabbed your hair in response and yanked your head back painfully. Without warning, he pushed into you with one hard thrust. You yelped in surprise at the intrusion. He didn’t take it slow and soft. That just wasn’t his way. But you didn’t want to be coddled right now, all you wanted was him and the intense pleasure he made you feel. His fingers found your clit once more and he caressed the sensitive nub in a circular motion. He pounded into you like a jack hammer eliciting desperate cries that erupted from your mouth.

You felt yourself swirling around a rather intense orgasm but knew you’d never get away with it without asking permission. He tugged a little harder on your hair making you squirm beneath him. “Lucifer, I’m going to cum.”

“Beg for it and maybe I’ll let you,” Lucifer said in your ear. His breath on your neck left you shivering, wanting more of him.

His fingers moved faster and so did his thrusts. You couldn’t fight it any longer. “Please. Please, Lucifer. Oh my god.”

Smack! He let go of your hair and hit your tender flesh again. He wrapped his hand around your throat and brought you up so that your back was against his chest. “You’re going to pay for that.”

He’d stopped all movement, turning you around and forcing you on your knees. You made a note not to say his father’s name again. You looked up at him to see the angel’s eyes flash red. Uh oh.

“Open that pretty little mouth of yours,” He ordered condescendingly.

You did as you were told. Almost instantly, he shoved his cock inside your mouth. He held onto the back of your head to keep you in place and he forced his cock to the back of your throat. You choked on him and tried to push away but he held you there. You moaned against him and pressed your knees together, desperately trying to create some friction. Something tickled against your skin and you guessed it was his Grace. It thrusted inside you making you jolt, pushing forward further onto Lucifer’s cock.

His Grace curled inside you hitting your g-spot over and over again. He began to pump in and out of your mouth. You felt his Grace take hold of your arms and pin them behind your back. You were helpless to his will. You gagged on his cock which made him grin. He leaned against the wall for support and you could tell he was reaching his own blissful torture.

“Y/N, cum for me. Now,” Lucifer breathed. His Grace released you and you cried out around his cock as your orgasm flowed through you. You convulsed, twitching at the after shocks from your climax. Not long after, Lucifer’s thrusts slowed and you felt him twitching in your mouth. Moments later he filled your mouth with hot cum as he panted out your name. He breathed heavily, trying to regain his balance before pulling out of your mouth. He tilted your head up, “Swallow.”

You obeyed and then showed him your good work. He smiled and helped you up. You pulled up your pants and stood awkwardly in front of him. You yelped when he scooped you up and brought you to your room. You leaned your head against his chest, tired from the sudden fuck fest. He shut the door behind you and gently removed your sports bra, pants, and shoes. He rummaged in your drawer before finding a cotton nightie. He motioned for you to lift your arms and you did as he slid the garment onto you. He pulled back the covers of your bed and gestured to it. You didn’t hesitate, climbing in immediately. You were a little surprised when he crawled in next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your forehead.

“You did very well,” Lucifer praised you as he drew circles into your hip with his thumb.

“T-Thank you,” You stammered, still a little dazed.

“You humans are strange. So concerned with body type. It makes no sense to me.” Lucifer murmured against your skin. “You are worth so much more than what you weigh. And don’t let me catch you thinking about yourself like that again, do you hear me?”

You nodded, “Yes, Sir.”

You yawned and nuzzled up close to his chest. He pulled the blankets up over the both of you and rubbed your back, giving your forehead one more kiss before you fell asleep, already dreaming about your next session with the devil.

[fortune-fool02]

Of Wolf and Man

Werewolf Kakyoin Noriaki x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

Werewolf AU

Warnings: slight angst, bit of blood, fluff

This is my first Werewolf AU so forgive me if it’s silly, plus werewolves are cool. Please enjoy.

He hated it. He hated lying to his friends and family. He hated having to chain himself up every full moon like the beast he was. He hated having to push [Name] away because he was scared of what he would do to her. 

Kakyoin hated this damn curse of his.

The two teens laughed at the story Kakyoin had just told of when Polnareff had gotten something wrong with his hair products and resulted in having his hair a wild frizz of a mess. It still made him laugh, even though it was a bit ago now. The fact that it allowed him to hear [Name] laugh made it all the more better. 

He glanced down at his watch then up at the sun that slowly made its way down. He didn’t have too long left, but if he was careful, he could squeeze an extra hour with [Name]. 

“So, Kakyoin,” [Name] spoke once her laughter had calmed, “Do you want to head back to mine for a bit since it’s starting to get dark?” He wanted to agree. He wanted to but he couldn’t. Shaking his head, he sighed a little. 

“I would love to but I’m afraid I can’t.” he answered with a low shrug of his shoulders, “I have things to sort out and I can’t push it off any longer. Sorry.” [Name] gave him a smile though it was forced, trying to cover the disappointment that almost slipped. 

The two came to a stop at the end of the street, Kakyoin leaned down and pressed a kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” he said with a smile. [Name] waved as he turned and made his way back home. 

She stood there for a moment, watching him disappear around the corner. He was always busy with these projects and assignments that he rarely got to spend time with her anymore and it hurt her a little. An idea popped into her head. She should surprise him tonight, what’s the worst that can happen? 

***

The metallic clink of the metal lock echoed around the room, telling the red-haired male that the cage was -indeed- locked. Good. With a sigh, Kakyoin plopped down onto the floor and brought his knees to his chest, resting his folded arms on them as he leaned his head on them. 

Why did he have to live like this? He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his curse a secret forever but he would for as long as he could. Not to protect himself but to protect his friends, his family and [Name]. 

“Kakyoin?” his head shot up at the voice, flecks of fear pinching at his body as he saw [Name] looking at him confused. “What’re you doing? Why are you in a cage?” she asked, confusion painting her face as she approached the cage. He shot his hand out, lavender eyes wide. 

“Don’t! Keep your distance, [Name]!” he shouted, the sudden volume shocking the [Hair colour] female but she did as told. “I told you not to come here.” 

[Name] looked at him, [Eye colour] eyes swirling with worry and confusion as to Kakyoin’s behaviour and the cage itself. Why would he be sitting in a cage? “I-I wanted to surprise you and-” he cut her off. 

“And I appreciate your gesture, I really do, but you can’t stay here any longer.” As he spoke, he could feel the dull throb begin to etch itself into the back of his skull; the first sign of is transformation. 

“Please [Name], go now.” he said, lowering his head as his hands curled into tight fists; waves of pain starting to flow through his body. [Name] took a step forward and Kakyoin shot his head up, lavender eyes melting into a bright, golden glow. “Get out now!” he screamed and [Name] turned on her heel, bolting up the steps and out of the cellar as fear flooded her body. 

Kakyoin’s agonised groans echoing behind her as she ran through the house. What was that? What was happening to him? As she reached the front door, she failed to notice it was open ajar -though she closed it fully when she got there- and a hand suddenly clamped around her mouth, pulling her into the living room. 

A man hovered above her, pinning her to the floor with his hand over her mouth, muffling any sound she attempted to make. 

“Damnit, just when I thought the bloody place was empty.” he groaned with annoyance. [Name] thrashed around underneath him in an attempt to escape from both this man and the house in general, knowing what was happening down in the cellar, though this was pointless as the man held her down. 

From his jacket, he pulled a knife out. [Name]’s eyes widened at the sight of the blade, cold fear grasping at her chest and scraping at her bones. With a surge of panic, she bit down onto his hand and screamed as loud as she could, hoping that someone could hear her. 

***

The scream echoed through the house and Kakyoin’s head snapped up at it. His golden eyes widening in horror at the scream, 

“[Name].” His intention to keep her away was all but forgotten as he began to ram his shifting body into the cage door, the bars bending under the force. Something grabbed a hold of that scream and planted images into his mind, his [Name] was in pain. She was being hurt and he was not there to protect her. He had to protect her, 

“[Name]!” he shouted, his teeth lengthening into canines as he did. Soon enough, the bars broke under his weight, allowing him to leave his prison and wander freely. He turned towards the door and rushed up the stairs. 

***

The man yelled in anger, bringing his fist down onto her face, silencing her screams. “Fuckin’ bitch!” he shouted, landing another punch across her face and snapping her head to the side. Her eyes widened when she saw the door to the cellar wide open and what stood there. 

Redish fur covered its entire body with bits of what was once a green uniform holding on weakly. Large claws scraping along the wooden door as a low growl slipped the canines in its jaws. Golden eyes glowed in the shadows. Before the man above her could turn his head, the wolf was already upon him, knocking him off of [Name] and digging his fangs into the man’s throat with one clawed hand over his mouth, silencing his screams. [Name] turned and buried her face into her hands, trying to block out the sound of flesh tearing and blood spilling. 

Then all went quiet. 

Slowly, she turned back to see the wolf -Kakyoin- hunched over the man’s lifeless body, his head hanging low. Against her better judgement, [Name] sat upright and leaned forward, hand outstretched slightly towards Kakyoin. 

“K...Kakyoin?” her voice was low, quiet as if she was afraid of setting him off. The wolf turned to her and hung his head low, guilt laced in his golden eyes. With a shaky hand, she lightly pressed it against his cheek, just above where his snout started, and he flinched slightly. 

“It’s alright, Kakyoin.” she whispered to him, the fear in her body seeping out and being replaced by a sense of odd security. He had killed a man who was going to kill her, beast or not, he rescued her. A low whine was heard from him, tilting his head into her hand a little and making her smile. 

“I love you Kakyoin, and this is not going to change that.” To many, this would have scared them away but not [Name]. Of course this was going to take some time to cope with but she was not going to leave Kakyoin because of it. 

Before she could react, he reached out and pulled her into his chest, holding her close and nuzzling his face against her. Her arms wrapped around his broad back, lightly playing with the redish fur. 

Just when Kakyoin thought he couldn’t love [Name] anymore than he already did, she proved him wrong. He truly didn’t deserve her.

[daylightisminetoconsume]

“I once had similar stirrings for an impure.” -Draal, Trollhunters.

The cool and quiet of the morning hours were shattered by the brittle sound of horns colliding. Bular the Vicious bellowed, letting out a rasping roar that would but a tiger to shame.

"Yield, Draal!" He snarled, trying to hide how out of breath he was.

Draal wiped the blood from his face as he pushed himself back on his feet.

"A trollhunter's heir never yields." the kitlar spat, "You'll die first."

Bular snorted.

"Terms accepted."

They clashed once more, crystal hide deflecting swords, bruises traded for cuts.  Bular sheathed his swords, lunging at Draal in a whirlwind of fists and fangs. Draal ducked down, slamming his horns into Bular's jaw and sending the Gumm-Gumm flying.

"RRAAAH!" Bular let out a howl of frustration as Draal pinned him to the ground by his throat.

"Your turn, Bular." he growled. "Yield."

The dark troll glowered up at Draal, his red eyes focused on his upraised fist. Those eyes narrowed with sudden cunning, and Bular leaned forward, giving Draal's nose a lick.

"AUGH!" immediately, Draal shoved Bular away, pawing at his face as though he'd smelt something foul. "None of that! We are fighting!"

"I was fighting." Bular smirked, "I have no idea what you were doing."

He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself as he sat up.

"Disgusting." Draal made sure to shove Bular back over before he sat down beside him.

"Giving up?" Bular reached for one of his swords, "Come, Trollhunter's Heir! Best of five!"

"You said that five battle ago." Draal frowned, propping himself with one arm. "You didn't call me out here just to spar."

Bular rumbled at that.

"...Did you bring it?" He asked after a moment.

Draal lowered his gaze, then pulled something from the pouch attached to his kilt.

"I have to get it back before my father wakes up. If he knew..."

"He won't. Give me the amulet." Bular's eyes locked onto it, the blue glow of Daylight illuminating his jagged features.

Holding his breath, he extended a hand toward it, expecting Draal to recoil.

But the Kitlar let him take it. Draal almost seemed eager to see his reaction, his warm yellow eyes locked onto Bular's face as the gumm-gumm ran his claws over the delicate silver filiments.

"It's..."

Bular hesitated, hackles rising.

After a long beat, he shoved it back into Draal's hand.

"Blue's not your color." the gumm-gumm grumbled.

"Isn't it, now?" Draal chortled, "Well I wouldn't expect someone your age to appreciate Merlin's work."

"My age? I'm a hundred and fifty years older than you!"

"Really?" Draal pretended to look surprised, "When are your horns going to finish coming in?"

Bular threw himself at the laughing kitler, and the two of them rolled across the grass in a tangle of limbs and gnashing teeth.

Neither said 'I yield.' When the fighting finally ended, it was by some unspoken agreement. Both Gumm-Gumm and Trollhunter's heir collapsed onto their sides, horns pressed together, breath mingling.

Draal grinned, and Bular looked away, clearing his throat in the nervous way he always did, when Draal looked at him like that.

"Disgusting." The kitlar said again. Then he leaned forward, touching his forehead to the other trolls.

Bular leaned into the affection, letting out his breath quietly.

but then he closed his eyes, face twisting as if in pain.

"Draal," he rasped quietly, "There's something I must tell you."

"Alright." Draal propped his chin onto his plam.

"Al-roight."

"Why do you insist on making fun of the way I talk?"

"Why do you insist on sounding so pathetically weird?"

"Oh, I'm the weird one?"

Bular chuckled half-heartedly

."Listen," He finally murmured, "I'm not...I'm...I am..."

"We are going to turn to stone before you spit out what you're saying." Draal rolled his eyes, standing up. "So let me speak first."

Surprised, Bular glanced up at him.

"Look, don't make this weird," Draal reached for the metal object he'd stashed in his pouch, "I just want you to hold it for a second, see how it feels."

"Hold what?"

Before Draal could answer, a deep, mocking laugh broke the quiet, echoing through the trees around them.

"No..." Bular quickly pushed himself to his feet, "No, no... no... no..."

"Show yourself!" Draal snarled, clenching his fists, "You face Draal the Deadly!!!"

A dark shape emerged from the forest, his massive horns tangled with branches and thorns.

"And you are a long way from trollmarket." Gunmar words were nearly a purr.

A small, keening sound came from Bular, and Draal moved quickly, placing himself between them.

"Run!" He said to Bular, "Find my father, and whatever you hear, don't look back!"

Bular didn't move.

Draal glanced back at him, snorting in frustration, "Go! I'm giving you a chance to---AUGH!"

The words crescendoed to a howl as Gunmar drove his horn into the younger troll's kidney.  Draal gagged in pain, doubling over as Gunmar brought both fists down on the back of his head.

Through a red haze, Draal could just make out Bular's voice.

"Father, please---"

"Did he bring the Amulet?" Gunmar's voice was gruff.

"He did..."

"Exactly as we planned." Gunmar kicked Draal onto his back, pinning him in place with one hoof.

Bular hung his head as he walked to his father's side.

"Father, please don't kill him."

"Of course not." Gunmar ripped the pouch from Draal's belt. "He's your prisoner."

Bular shook his head, his eyes shut tightly.

"I am so proud of you, Bular. You baited him, you caught him, you will be the one to present him to our Dark Overlord."

Gunmar's grin widened as he opened the pouch, his uneven teeth glinting beneath the cool glow of the amulet of daylight.

"Stricklander will be pleased. Go grab the chains. I want you to show this whelp his new leash."

Draal glared up at Bular, his eyes gleaming and wet.

"I knew you were a changeling!" He shouted, "I---"

Another kick from Gunmar silenced him.

"Now, Bular." the spymaster snarled.

Bular shuddered. With unsteady hands, he reached for the Trollhunter's Heir.

"For the Glory of Merlin---"

The amulet flew out of Gunmar's claws.

"---Daylight is Mine to Command!"

The spymaster snarled, shielding his face from the light as Kanjigar embraced his armor.

The Trollhunter stepped forward, holding Daylight level as he moved to shield his son.

"Father."

Draal moaned quietly, and the pain in his voice was far deeper than any stab wound.

"I'm here, my son." Kanjigar's eyes locked onto Gunmar's, his lips set in a narrow line.

Draal tried to push himself up, groaning when his arm gave out beneath him.

"Rest now." Kanjigar told him. "The impure are mine."

With that, he lifted his blade and charged toward the changelings.

Gunmar bellowed, racing forward to meet the Trollhunter head on.

But at the last second, Kanjigar pivoted, slipping past Gunmar and swinging his blade in a shining arc.

Bular looked up; just in time for Daylight to sever one of his horns.

"SON!" Gunmar's lone eye went wide as Bular fell, screaming and clutching at the bloody wound.

Kanjigar's sword rose again, and Gunmar threw himself over Bular, Daylight's edge skidding off the changeling’s armored shoulder.

Spymaster and Trollhunter clashed, Sword against hide, talons against armor,  both roaring with the primal rage of bull trolls defending their cubs.

Bular rolled onto his front, pushing himself to all fours. As he wiped the blood from his eyes, he could see two new forms emerging from the trees, rushing to Draal's side.

"Master Kanjigar!" one of them shouted, "More changelings are coming! I suggest we make our egress!"

Bular thought he recognized the gray and green troll that stooped down and lifted Draal into a warriors carry.

But his focus was on the Trollhunter's heir, where it stayed, even as Kanjigar disengaged from the battle. Even as the Trollmarket trolls retreated into the forest.

The entire time, he kept his gaze on Draal, until the kitlar troll was too far away to see.

Gunmar's hand fell heavily on his shoulder.

"Let me see it." Gunmar ordered.

"Don't touch me."

"If he cut too close to the skull you could bleed out. Let me see!"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Bular swung at his father, a clumsy blow that didn't come close to hitting him.

The back of Gunmar's hand made a solid 'thwunk' sound as it connected with Bular's jaw. The younger changeling struck the ground, howling his anguish.

"I HATE YOU!"

"Look at me, Bular---"

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!!"

"Look at me!"

Choking on his rage, Bular sat up, glaring at his father with fiery eyes.

Gunmar knelt, picking up Draal's discarded pouch.

Without a word, he reached in.

An instant later, the massive Gumm-Gumm troll was gone, replaced with a grizzled-looking norseman.

Bular's face fell as Gunmar's hand emerged, holding a horseshoe.

"He was going to use a gaggletack on you." Gunmar stated. "What was your plan if he caught you in your fleshbag form?"

Bular stared at the horseshoe, backing away.

"This is why I followed you. This is why you can't be trusted to do things on your own." Gunmar shook the gaggletack like a weapon, "You're soft, Bular! You're young! You think you know better, you think you're invincible, but when I fall, you will be in charge of the Janus Order, and when a thousand trolls are threatening your life, you'll realize that---"

Gunmar stopped, falling silent as Bular's shoulders began to shake.

"Son..." Gunmar siged, throwing the gaggletack aside.  

His human arms were just large enough to slip around his son's neck.

Bular pressed his shaggy head to his father's chest, pushing against him the way he used to when he was very small.

After a moment, the young  gumm-gumm troll vanished in a shimmer of red light, replaced with a tired-looking Saan teenager.

"I can't lose you, too." Gunmar told him, resting his chin on the boy's braids.

"Forgive me, father." Bular drew back, wincing as he lifted a hand to his scalp. "I can still catch up with the Trollhunter."

"No." Gunmar shook his head, "That is a hunt for another day. Go back to camp, have Dictatious check your wounds."

Bular did as he was told, holding his head low as he slipped into the forest.

Gunmar watched him leave.

Once he was gone, the Spymaster let out his breath, lifting a hand to massage his temple.

For a split second, he thought Bular had noticed him slipping the cloth-wrapped horseshoe into the bag, but as always, Bular was impulsive. Quick to react, quick to feel.

Not so quick to heal, but it was a lesson that had to be taught.

Gunmar peered into the pouch, pulling out the object Kanjigar's heir had prepared for his son.

A nose ring, carved from Draal's own stone.

Gunmar's face twisted into a scowl. With a snarl, he returned to trollform, dropping the ring and crushing it under his hoof.

When he was satisfied that there was no trace left, he turned on his heel, and started back toward camp.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Trapped (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: blood, injury Characters: Shachi, Law, Penguin

Landing on an apparently uninhabited island always posed its own challenges. They were usually in need of fresh supplies, so chief among them was finding something safe to eat (and preferably something they could keep for a while in the freezer). Most of the crew was put on foraging and hunting duty once the island was confirmed to be safe.

Confirming it to be safe required a scouting party of two or three people (one was too dangerous and more than three could draw unwanted attention). They wouldn't venture far from where the Tang was moored, just in case something came up that they couldn't handle, just far enough to make sure there was enough of a safe area to forage in.

This time, on a humid spring island, Penguin and Shachi had volunteered to be the initial scouts, cautiously setting out with a baby den den mushi in Penguin's pocket, a section of Law's vivre card in Shachi's, and knives concealed under both their tops. In the humidity, the boiler suits had been discarded for something lighter.

The island may as well have been a tropical jungle, if slightly cool, covered in large lush vegetation. Trees reached for the sky, large leaves and intertwining branches creating a thick canopy above their heads. They made note of the plentiful berries around, not recognising many but confident that when it came to gathering, their nakama would be able to collectively discern whether they were edible.

Bountiful crop aside, the island felt somewhat eerie. There was no birdsong. Nor were there calls of other animals, leaving the only noise to be the whisper of wind in the trees. Perhaps there was nothing edible on the island, but even if it wasn't fit for human consumption there was usually some animal or other that had evolved to eat anything. The absence of anything at all was unnerving.

On the edge of their agreed area was the mouth of a cave, set into a small hill. Caves could contain anything. With a shared nod, the pair edged forwards, crossing the threshold slowly and casting around with all of their senses for anything at all.

"Hey-" Shachi started, tensing, only to be drowned out by a loud rumble. It came from above and behind them, and they whirled around in time to see the first rocks fall.

They swore and tried to duck out through the entrance before they were blocked in, but the rockfall was too fast and violent, large boulders slamming down to the ground as they stacked together.

Shachi heard Penguin give out a yelp and reached out for him in the disappearing light, catching hold of his arm as the older man fell to the cave floor.

"Penguin!" he shouted, swearing as a trickle of large stones cascaded down the inside of the cave mouth towards them. Penguin didn't get up, so he dragged him backwards by the arm he'd caught, away from the rockfall. "Hey, Penguin!"

"Nnrgh," the other pirate groaned as the last of the stones fell, well and truly blocking them in. With minimal light to see with – weak rays of daylight tried to force their way past the rocks but failed to do more than keep the cave from being total pitch darkness – Shachi yanked his shades off, taking advantage of his sensitivity to light and subsequent semi-night vision.

It didn't do much, and he knew the moment any real light filtered into the cave he was going to regret it, but for the time being it permitted him to see the outline of his nakama, who was still lying on the floor of the cave where he'd dragged him. Kneeling besides him, he reached for his head to find a sticky lump – he must have lost his hat in the rockfall – and cursed. A rock must have caught him as it fell, and while Shachi was no Law, he knew enough to know instantly that Penguin had concussion, and probably quite a bad one.

Releasing even more profanities, he rummaged through Penguin's pockets for their baby den den mushi, finding the small creature and waking it with some urgent pokes. It gave him a reproachful look even as it dialled the Polar Tang, Shachi fidgeting on the spot.

Gatcha.

"Law!" he said hurriedly, before whoever was on the other end had a chance to say a greeting.

"What's wrong?" his captain asked, and he saw the baby den den morph itself to resemble his captain.

"We got caught in a rockfall," he said, forcing himself not to garble the words in his rush to get them out. "There was a cave, and now we're trapped inside."

"Are you hurt?" Law demanded and Shachi shook his head.

"I'm unhurt," he began, "but I think Penguin got hit by a rock. His head's bleeding and he's not responding to much."

"I'm on my way," Law said, "keep-"

Shachi's attention was snatched away from the den den mushi by a slithering sound, immediately accompanied by a clacking of something hard on rock. He turned around slowly and paled.

"Uh, Law?" he said, cutting off whatever his captain had been saying. "Could you hurry? Only… I don't think the cave's owner is too happy with us shutting its front door."

Two glowing cyan eyes glowered at him out of the darkness, easily at a level above his head. At least Bepo's height, Shachi catalogued absently. There was a strange sound, like a mixture between a snarl and a hiss, and he moved to put himself between Penguin and the creature.

He'd never seen anything like it before. Rows and rows of teeth revealed themselves in a maw most closely resembling a snake's. A matching tail slithered along the ground behind it. The rest of the creature more closely resembled what Shachi could only consider to be a bald lion, all muscle and claws bunched up, ready to pounce.

All he had was his knife, which he quickly palmed.

"-old on," he heard the baby den den garbling in his ear, the creature having crawled up to his shoulder at some point. "Shachi, we're on our way now." The growl-hiss sounded again, and Shachi tensed, watching it preparing to pounce with the certainty that he could not stop anything with that much mass single-handedly, and if he dodged he'd be leaving the vulnerable Penguin directly in the thing's warpath.

"Hurry," he repeated, voice somehow staying steady even though there was a quake to his knees he was attempting to deny the existence of. "There's no way I'm gonna beat this thing alone."

There was a hitch of breath from the den den mushi on his shoulder, and he faintly heard Law barking orders to the rest of the crew frantically. He couldn't listen, however, as the creature chose that moment to lunge. Bracing himself and pulling all the pathetic armament haki he could, he slashed out with the knife, trying to use the thing's momentum against it.

The frantic action worked, deflecting the charge so that it missed both him and Penguin, but as the creature pulled itself back together and regarded him with those cold cyan eyes again, Shachi's heart sank in his chest.

Those were intelligent, calculating eyes. It wouldn't be falling for the same trick twice. That made it smarter than most marines, Shachi noted idly but with a no small amount of trepidation. He didn't need a smart opponent.

The stalemate lasted maybe five seconds, before the eyes left Shachi to focus on something on the ground near his feet. Shachi followed its gaze instinctively to see Penguin's unmoving form.

The beast didn't need to be smart to know which was the easier prey. Its mouth opened in what Shachi could only call a victorious grin before it lunged.

"Oh no you don't," Shachi growled, meeting the beast head on with his knife, heading straight for one of the glowing eyes. He felt the hit, the unmistakable sensation of the blade sinking into something squishy, and the creature screamed, whipping its head side to side frantically.

There was a sharp pain in Shachi's left arm as a stray fang snagged it, and he bit back a yelp. The action itself was nothing outside of his pain tolerance, years of piracy raising it by necessity, but the fire that erupted from the injury was instantaneous and agonising.

He fell to the ground heavily, the impact forcing a pained grunt from him, losing his grip on his knife as he did so. The blade was still embedded in one eye, now red rather than cyan, and the other regarded him with an angered slit. Moving his left arm did nothing other than intensify the burn, and Shachi choked back the noise of pain.

"Shachi?" Law's breathless voice called from the baby den den mushi somehow still on his shoulder, and he realised dimly that at some point the call had been transferred to another baby den den mushi for Law to carry as he ran.

"I think I made it mad," he replied through gritted teeth, glaring back at the sole cyan eye. "And it doesn't play fair. Seems like its fangs are venomous."

He heard Law curse, but it was at that moment the creature decided to launch another offensive. Weaponless but all too aware of Penguin's limp form behind him, Shachi forced what armament haki he could into his arms, holding them up defensively.

He'd thought the thing would muscle him aside and head for Penguin – certainly, it had the strength for that – but its head twisted sideways at the last second, teeth clamping around Shachi's right arm unforgivingly. He couldn't bite back the scream, and faintly heard Law desperately calling his name.

"-chi! I can see the cave now, hol-"

The line went dead as Shachi felt the tail of the creature crash down on his shoulder. Looking up at the cyan eye, he saw a look of smug satisfaction and a realisation chilled him to the bones.

It was playing with him. It could have gone for Penguin whenever it wanted and there was really nothing Shachi could have done about it, but it hadn't. Instead it had targeted Shachi himself, even going so far as to use Penguin as bait, and now it had cut off his only communication. The teeth retracted from his arm and he stumbled backwards, but not fast enough as it snapped again, this time its fangs sinking into his abdomen. Shachi screamed, collapsing backwards and narrowly missing Penguin as he crashed to the ground, the creature not relinquishing its bite and instead letting Shachi's momentum pull it forwards until it was pinning him with one huge claw.

A translucent blue passed over them, and then Penguin was gone. In his place stood Law, Kikoku unsheathed and free hand poised to manipulate everything inside his Room.

Whether the creature saw a new toy or a threat, Shachi didn't know, but he was dragged to his feet by the bite still encompassing most of his abdomen and shaken around like a chew toy.

Law wasted no time, an Amputate and Takt combination finding Shachi laid on the cave floor behind his captain. Any efforts to find his feet were a lost cause as his limbs refused to respond, so he could do nothing other than watch Law dice the creature and scatter the parts thoroughly before kneeling down next to him.

"Sorry I took so long," he apologised, and Shachi gave him a toothy grin.

"You came in the end," he pointed out, voice slightly hoarse. Law shook his head fondly before there was a hand gripping his and the world shifted.

They materialised just outside the cave. Shachi winced at the sudden light – he knew he'd regret taking his shades off – and shut his eyes hurriedly, but he could sense several of his nakama surrounding him.

"Back to the Tang," Law ordered, and Shachi felt someone pick him up. His haki said it was Clione.

"Bepo already took Penguin back," Uni reported, probably to Law although Shachi appreciated the information.

"Good," Law said, sounding pleased. "No-one is going out in less than a group of five," he added. "We don't know how many of those things are lurking."

Even if he wasn't destined for a spell in the infirmary, what felt like his entire musculature screaming at him non-stop, Shachi would not have been volunteering to leave the security of the Tang again on that island. He didn't scare easily, but there was just something about the uncanny intelligence of that creature that rubbed him the wrong way.

Despite knowing that Law had incapacitated the creature, Shachi couldn't even begin to relax until he was back in the safety of the Polar Tang, lying on the bed next to Penguin's in the infirmary and listening to Bepo trying to persuade the other not to fall asleep.

[yanderelovebug-blog]

He who catches, keep’th.

Werewolf!OC/Reader, warnings for: non-con, blood, delusional/obsessive behavior, biting, violence, knotting, size difference, fainting

It’s a coincidence, really. 

You’re out too late at night, stroll too close to the edge of the woods. You aren’t even paying attention to the leaves and twigs that crunch beneath your feet. You’re too lost in your own world to notice how you stray further and further from the street’s dim light. 

You had come outside in your pajamas, barefoot and heedless of the night’s buzzing cicadas and hooting owls. You had only thought of escaping from your house. 

Your parents had been lecturing you, again. Something trivial you couldn’t even remember. One moment you were listening to them over your phone, curled up in your armchair. The next you had tossed your phone at the wall and fled from your house with only anger in your mind. 

A walk had always cooled you down before. Even when you had been living with your parents they lectured you over anything they could dream up. Your escape had always been nature. Lately you’d been mending your relationship with them but they always fell back on old habits of making you feel less. 

You stopped walking, tilted your head up to the moon and sighed. Now that you were calm you felt silly. You were an adult, you shouldn’t let them get to you like that anymore. You turned back, facing your house. 

There was a soft rustle behind you, and the feeling of eyes on the back of your neck. 

Exhaling, you strode forward slowly. Living so close to the woods you’d gotten used to the occasional coyote or wolf. It was best to ignore them. They weren’t here for you. 

The steady rustle of leaves behind you made your heart rate jump in your throat, but you kept your slow pace back towards your house. You hadn’t even noticed it but you’d strayed too far into the barrier of the forest. You’d let your blind anger cloud your judgement. 

Strengthening your resolve, you slowly tilted your head sideways to see if you could catch sight of the animal following you. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the large shadow mere feet from your back. It stepped closer to you and as the light finally touched it the breath you’d been holding whooshed out of you with a loud noise. 

The thing that had been following you wasn’t an animal at all. It was a large man, towering over you and coming closer with each step. You were frozen in fear, staring up in to his narrowed eyes.

His scarred face struck fear into you, and his ice blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the light. You stood still, trembling as his hand reached toward your neck. 

It was only when his warm skin touched yours that you were shocked out of your frightened state. The feel of his hand, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight, it struck you to your core and you spun around. Gave yourself over to the animalistic urge of all prey species when face with a dangerous predator, and ran.

Run, hide, just get away from him, FUCK. 

For once, your clumsiness didn’t give you away and you raced on sure feet back to the road. There was a steady thumping behind you, but you didn’t dare turn to look. Your heart raced in your chest, rabbity pulse hard against your rib-cage. 

The was a stilted howl from the man, excited and yet almost silent. You pushed yourself to run faster, to get away from the man who was quite obviously crazy. 

You slammed into your front door, unable to slow yourself down enough. Still not daring to look behind you, you forced the door open. 

Panting, you slung the door shut, only for it to catch on the forearm of the tall man. He shoved it back open with enough force to drive the knob through the plaster of your wall. 

He rolled his neck and stepped forward slowly. The street lights cast a glow around him as he stepped into your house and closed the door behind him, far softer than he had opened it a moment ago. 

You faced him with your back to the counter separating your living room from the kitchen.

You hesitantly reached out to flip on your living room light, and finally saw him clearly. 

He looked young, with scars that criss-crossed his face and body. He was only wearing a torn pair of pants that hung loosely from his hips. His fingers had wicked curved claws at the tips of them and his mouth lolled open, drooling with sharp fangs on display. 

He would have been handsome if he weren’t so frightening, so grotesque in the way he’d chased you down, the way he’d stalked you so silently in the woods.

He began to come closer and you whimpered, turning to run into the kitchen. He caught you by the back of your shirt, claws scraping the dip between your shoulder blades. 

You couldn’t help yourself but to scream when he lifted you off the ground, tossing you hard against the wall opposite the entrance to the kitchen. You crashed down onto the floor with a pathetic wheeze, breath crushed out of your lungs. 

“Pretty mate,” he said, standing over you. “Watched you, seen you. Waited for you to come.” 

He bent down to your level slowly, breath fanning over your face. His mouth smelled like blood and dead things, made you want to be sick on your own carpet. 

He continued talking, unaware of the way your stomach twisted and rolled. 

“Then you came, full moon. Looked at me and let me chase you. Wanted to be my mate, too.” He smiled and grabbed you by your upper arms, lifting you into the air again with an ease that made you terrified of his strength. 

“L-Let me go, please.” You wheezed out. Your arms were already sore from where he gripped them. There was a sick spark in his eyes that had you trembling.

“No, I’m Alpha. I caught you.” His smile grew further as he dropped you again. “You’re mine, mine, mine. I caught you, I did.” 

He leaned down and used his claws to scratch red lines down the side of your face as you started crying. 

You kicked out at him, desperate to fight back against your rapidly approaching death. He batted your foot away from him as if it meant nothing, smile morphing into an upset frown. 

He yanked you forward by your wrist, letting out a growl as he flipped you onto your stomach harshly. He wrenched your arms behind your back and there was a sickening snap from your right arm. 

You screamed out and he ignored it, pushing your arms further until the pain had you arching your shoulders down and hips up, trying to alleviate the intense ache.  

He held your wrists in one large hand. With the other he sliced his claws through your clothes as if they were nothing but water. They fell around you and he swiped them out of the way. You continued screaming, hoping that one of your neighbors would hear and call the police. 

He thrusted his clothed hips against you, growling in your ear. Soon, he let go of your throbbing arms to pull his own pants off. You let out a sob of relief as the pressure was relieved from your definitely broken arm. 

Your relief was short lived, since a moment later he thrusted forward and pushed himself into your dry hole. You screamed loudly and lurched forward to escape the pain. You couldn’t get away from the intrusion, however, forced to take it as he sheathed himself inside you.

He was so large. It hurt worse than anything you’d ever felt before, even the broken arm you were trying to support yourself on. His teeth latched onto the back of your neck, sinking into your flesh as he growled against it. His hips started jerking, fast movements that kept him mostly deep inside you and tugged at your walls painfully. 

He reached around to muffle your loud screams with his hand. He panted through his nose, teeth clenched against each other through the mauled meat of your neck. His left hand curled around your hip and yanked you against him, claws sinking into your tender flesh.

After a few more harsh movements, the slide of his cock was suddenly easier as it sunk into you. You could feel yourself bleeding, it seeping out of you and coating him. It made it less and more painful all at once. The slide easier but the tear burning as it was slid against. Your walls clenched around him rhythmically, trying to push the painful intrusion out. You only succeeded in pulling him in deeper. 

He released your neck and you felt blood gush down your back. You kicked at his legs with your own, screaming again when it only jostled him inside you.  

“Mine, Mine...” He sped his thrusts, his eyes rolling back. 

You tensed and smacked at him with your left hand. He held you up around the waist with his large arm. He was at least a foot taller than you, and he dwarfed you in every way. Your struggling didn’t even slow him down as he ravaged your body and took what he wanted.

“So g-good, my mate.” He nipped your ear, whispering to you sweetly like he hadn’t broken your arm and raped you so viciously that you’d bled. “So pretty, my- mine, mine always.” 

His voice dipped to a growl as you felt something swelling within you, taking the already uncomfortable ache back to the searing pain it had been at the start. No amount of slick readied you for the swelling of his cock. You screams reached a fever pitch as finally, the pain caused you to faint, eyes rolling back into your head.

                                   ☆☆☆☆

The Alpha shoved his knot deep into his mate, locking them together. He spread his legs to either side of his petite moonbeam, using his strong hips to pin them to the ground. He felt the breath leave them even in their slumber so he eased up slightly, smiling. 

He rubbed his cheek against his mating mark, bloodied and raw. He couldn’t wait for his knot to die down so he could take his new treasure back to his den. He’d been watching them for so long, waiting for the moment they’d return his affections and venture into the forest to be claimed. 

And he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night! A full moon, and his love had looked so beautiful when they’d finally seen him. It had been everything he’d imagined. 

They’d be together for always. He had caught them and knotted them and the rules of the forest were clear:

He who catches....

[jace-the-writer-guy]

Home

“A journey home was supposed to fill a person with thoughts of love. But to Rivy, the thought of returning to the place she was born filled her with heartache from the memories of the day her home was destroyed and all her family and friends murdered. She never thought she would ever find the will to return. But with her mate and her two closest allies by her side, along with her faithful companion, and the knowledge that something was waiting for her there, she felt she was finally ready to face her past.”

///Hey guys, here’s that thing I mentioned! I wanted to write something special for Rivy to be able to bring her some peace, and this was the idea I came up with. It has a mix of different elements in it and I hope you enjoy it///

Word count: 7,085

Light grey clouds filled the sky and rain lightly fell from them late in the morning on one spring day. And charred wood, overgrown with vines and broken rubble was scattered around the mossy cobblestone walkways of a long destroyed and abandoned village in the kingdom of Vale. It was far away from other villages and towns, and especially from the city of Vale itself with only a couple of roads leading in and out of it. It used to be such a beautiful, peaceful little village before hell tore through. Walls were broken down in numerous places and homes were either caved in or completely demolished and burned down, leaving only barely standing support beams. The hatred and greed of a man that used to be only known as Locke had rendered the village destroyed and all of the inhabitants murdered by either bandits or Grimm.

All except for one.

A dark green and brown camouflage truck slowly pulled to a stop outside of the northern gate of the village on the side of the road and the four occupants got out of it and into the rainfall, all pulling their hoods onto their heads. The first one out was Rivy, and she grabbed Cero Miedo from the back and put it on her back before she slowly walked up to the vine covered sign outside the gate, and she stopped for a few moments while Momo sat down beside her, her ears erect and alert. Slowly, the memories of Rivy’s childhood began to come into her mind of how her sister used to walk with her up and down the road to take in the silence of nature and the cool breeze coming through the trees from the ocean just a few miles away. It was a memory she held dear in her heart for years. A memory of a peaceful time when she was just an innocent girl.

Soon, a hand was placed on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “We’re with you, love,” Ulysses said gently at her side, “You can do this.”

She felt another hand on her other shoulder a moment later. “Take all the time you need, sister,” Zarya spoke up, her voice low and calming and her scales and the tips of her hair a calming blue color as she held Chroma Sting’s grip in her left hand. She looked from Rivy to the ruined village and she let out a sigh, “I can imagine this used to be a beautiful place.”

Momo’s head nuzzled against her hand, and Rivy smiled a small bit before she gently petted the girl between her ears. As she did that, Saint stepped forward past everyone, Rupture ready in his hands, and he stopped at the sign. “It’s still hard to believe that a village of our people were wiped out, just like that…” The soft spoken man said and took a hand off of Rupture to clear vines away from the sign to reveal the village’s name.

Scalewood

Those with the traits of dragons were very rare among the Faunus race. While there are hundreds of thousands of Faunus on Remnant, there are less than twenty thousand of the formerly nomadic dragon Faunus due to how rare they are, in addition to massacres on them for being the freaks of the freaks dwindling their numbers over the long years before the Great War. History lessons mostly gloss over the darkest parts of humanity’s past, but the blood staining Vacuo’s sand is still there, and the trail followed many of the dragon Faunus into Vale as they tried to migrate and escape the cruel treatment they were subjugated to.

Things were mostly looking up for them all after the Great War and after the formation of the Rangers, giving a select few a good direction in life and giving countless more protection from injustice, and their numbers are still slowly rising back up. But, events like the destruction of Scalewood, a village of around three hundred dragon Faunus, have just taken those numbers back down. Even still these days despite their natural strength and fitness, dragon Faunus have hard times in human dominated settlements, almost always having to cover their scales or other dragon-like traits to prevent themselves from becoming targets of racism and hate, and prevent themselves from being ran out of their homes or killed just for being even more different than other Faunus.

Tears slowly began to form in Saint’s eyes and fall down his cheeks before he ripped some of the vines away and clenched his fist. “I can never understand why things like this happens to our people…”

He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths before putting his hand back on Rupture, and he opened his eyes back up, and then he began to sense something off about the area now, and then he and everyone began to hear Momo growl lowly. “Grimm are here. Southwest of us.”

Rivy’s lip twitched a bit and she gritted her teeth before drawing Cero Miedo from her back. “One day, I hope this village can be rebuilt and be a refuge for dragon Faunus again.”

Ulysses pulled Hammerfall off his back as well and rested it on his shoulder. “Well, Locke and his bandits are dead. New project?”

Rivy hummed a bit in response. “I’ll… think about it.”

Zarya pressed a button on the side of Chroma Sting’s grip with her thumb and the barrel extended out by twenty inches, and she looked at Rivy and gave a small grin. “We’ll talk about that later.”

Zarya jumped up onto the remnants of the wall next to the gate and looked around through her weapon’s sight, and she saw a small group of Beowulves led by an Alpha. She took aim at one of the smaller Beowulves in the group and pulled the trigger, and the round blasted from the barrel, coated in ice dust from the barrel, and zipped through the air before slamming between the Grimm’s eyes, ice bursting around its eyes in a flower and blinding it. It growled and let out a roar before thrashing around, trying to rip the ice off its face as it slammed into the other Grimm and distracted them all. She took a few more shots and all three rounds hit three other Beowulves in either their arms or their torsos before they all finally took notice of her.

But by the time they did, Rivy and Ulysses were already charging at them with Momo at their heels, and Saint wasn’t far behind them. Zarya switched firing modes and began to send bursts of three rounds out and all of them slammed into the Alpha’s feet and the ground around itself feet, soon pinning it there before it had the chance to do anything. While it was stuck, the other Beowulves ran past it, with the blinded one’s vision now free, and they jumped at the three that were running at them. Or they would have, if it wasn’t for Momo hopping between them all and beginning to snarl and growl brutally, baring her fangs at the Grimm. Her semblance activated at that and all three Beowulves stopped in their tracks and whimpered, completely frozen in fear.

Rivy, Ulysses, and Saint took that opportunity to easily take out the three Grimm. Rivy simply cut the head off of one, Ulysses smashed another’s head into paste on the ground, and Saint stabbed the bardiche blade of Rupture into the last’s chest. Before long, the Alpha Beowulf broke free from the ice and let out a loud howl into the air, and multiple more Beowulves began to run into the area from outside the walls. Momo started to growl at them all as she did before, and some froze in fear while others began to hesitate, but some were left unaffected as Momo’s semblance can’t affect too many things at a time. When she was finished with those, she began to dart around the area and out of the reach of the Grimm, keeping them occupied while the others attacked. Those that were unaffected became the targets of Rivy and Ulysses as Saint went on the attack against the Alpha, taking aim with Rupture and pulling the trigger a few times to blast dozens of lightning dust pellets into its torso. The lightning mixed with the wet fur of the Alpha made it howl in pain and caused it to become paralyzed for several moments, letting Saint go in on the attack. He struck at its legs and midsection with multiple side slashes and pushed the Alpha back across the cobblestone and rubble before he spun around and let go with one hand while keeping a hold of the grip in his other while raising Rupture high into the air, and he swung it down with all his might against the Alpha. It’s body recovered from the paralyzation just in time for it to raise its arms up and block the attack, and then it finally countered and sent its claws into Saint’s side, causing him to grunt and slide across the ground on his feet.

Meanwhile, Zarya jumped down from the wall after picking off a few of the smaller Beowulves and reloading, and she ran into the fight while Chroma Sting’s barrel retracted into it’s short ranged form. The larger scope flipped to the side and Zarya aimed through the holographic sight, and she began to fire bursts of rounds into the Grimm, freezing limbs solid for Rivy and Ulysses to easily take off. One Beowulf broke off from the others and ran for her, jumping at her and swiping its claws toward her head from the side. From a few feet away, she dropped to a crouch and took a hand off her weapon to place flat against the ground. She used her semblance and multicolored aura glowed from the stone, and soon a spear of stone shot from the ground and pierced through the Beowulf’s chest and heart, killing it instantly.

Zarya jumped back to her feet and hopped across the rubble of a destroyed home toward her brother, careful not to get her feet stuck between any of the stone or wood. She jumped onto a pillar of wood that was still standing and then leapt off of it as the Alpha Beowulf sent another hard strike toward Saint. The red scaled dragon raised Rupture to block the strike as Zarya jumped from the pillar toward it. She pointed Chroma Sting toward the Alpha’s arm and began to fire bursts of rounds into it, each one bursting into icy flowers along its black fur and bone covered arm. The Alpha growled in annoyance at that and turned its vision toward her, and that gave Saint an opening to knock its arm away with Rupture and knock it off guard, aim at the unprotected underside of its arm near the torso, and pull the trigger.

The Alpha let out a pained roar as its arm was nearly blown off of its body, just hanging by a thread now. Zarya continued her descent toward the Alpha and reared her right fist back, using her aura to grow the hard-light blades of Drachenklaue, and she punched down at the Alpha’s jaw. The claws tore into the Grimm’s flesh, and soon its bottom jaw was broken and mangled. It roared once more in agony and stumbled away from the two, and Zarya gave one look to Saint before giving a nod and unloading the rest of Chroma Sting’s magazine into the Alpha’s chest. She took the magazine out and inserted the one connected to its side, and then she darted off toward where Rivy and Ulysses were fighting off the lesser Beowulves as Saint grinned at the Alpha.

She knew they didn’t need the help, but this was Rivy’s home the Grimm were trampling over, and she wanted them all gone as quickly as possible. As she bolted off from Saint, the red scaled dragon fired another shell of buckshot into the Alpha’s body to get its attention back on him. When it did, Saint jumped back away from it and in its rage-filled mind, it leapt after him and swung its remaining claws toward him. That was the last mistake the Grimm would ever make. Saint planted his feet to the ground and transformed the stock of Rupture into its hilt form and switched his hold to it, and then he jumped forward toward the Alpha, jumping past its reach and impaling Rupture’s blade deep into its chest and its heart to end it.

With a yell, Ulysses brought the heavy metal head of Hammerfall down into a Beowulf’s head and slammed it down into the ground, squashing it into a pulp before it turned to ash and disintegrated. Then, he released the blade from the hammer head and pulled it free, and then he leapt over toward the next Grimm and his attacks became faster now without the massive weight of the hammer. The Grimm took swipes at him with their claws but it was either at the cost of their limbs or their lives. One by one, those that attacked him were all left defenseless or disintegrating under his charge until one Beowulf got lucky and was able to tackle Ulysses to the ground, his blade being knocked from his grasp.

The Beowulf pinned him down and opened its mouth to bite down around his head, but then it was caught off guard and let out a confused growl when it saw Ulysses quickly begin to morph into his werewolf form thanks to his semblance. Then, Ulysses let out a snarl that caused the Beowulf to let out a rather confused, fearful whimper, and Ulysses powered out of its grip and his own claws clamped down around the Beowulf’s head, and then he threw it off of him and jumped up to his feet, and he let out a piercing howl into the air that caused many of the Grimm to stop and turn toward the commanding tone of the howl.

That… was a big mistake.

Even the ones Rivy was fighting had turned their attention away from her and as soon as they did, Cero Miedo sliced through them both and cut them in half, leaving their bodies turning to ash in the wind. Rivy began to go after other Beowulves that were distracted and easily cut them all down like they were nothing as Zarya darted around them all, unloading rounds into their chests and throats to thin their numbers down, empty casings falling and clattering along the cobblestone under her. Rivy focused her aura into her heavy blade and swung it in a sideways arc to send out a slash of aura toward another three Beowulves, maiming two of them and killing the third before Ulysses jumped at them and clawed their heads off.

Rivy stayed as calm as ever as she continued to fight off the pack of Beowulves with her mate and their close friends. They were her family. She remembered how she met each of them and she remembered how far the three had gone for her to see her avenge her family’s deaths and the destruction of her village. She remembered the tavern she met Ulysses in while she was trying to figure out her next steps. She remembered the weapon shop in Mistral she met Saint and Zarya in while she and Ulysses were finding whetstones and oils for their blades. She remembered how willing they all were to offer their aid and support to her after her life had been thrown into hell and her trust shattered. She remembered the day they all stood with her as she drove her sister’s blade through Locke’s chest. She remembered falling into their arms after the heavy use of her semblance tore numerous muscles in her body.

She could never thank them all enough.

Rivy blinked her eyes as she snapped herself back into the present, and Cero Miedo was pierced through the chest of the final Beowulf of the pack. The Grimm disintegrated into dust and Rivy let the tip of her blade touch the ground, and she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Soon, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she opened her eyes to see Ulysses back in his normal form, giving her a reassuring smile.

“I know this is hard for you, Rivy,” Ulysses said to her and placed his hand over his right shoulder, feeling the pain and heartache through the Mate’s Mark on his shoulder that she was trying to hide, “Take your time. We’ll stay here as long as it takes.”

“Are you alright, sister?” Zarya asked the older dragon Faunus, “You zoned out when we were fighting the Grimm.”

Saint arrived at them all just then, loading new shells into Rupture. “You can talk to us, Rivy. We’re here for you.”

Rivy shook her head clear and she sighed. “To tell you the truth… I’m not sure I am alright right now or not,” She felt Momo nuzzle her head against her hand and she patted the dog’s head a bit, “Being here again makes me remember everything from when I was a child. This building here…” She looked behind herself at the ruins of a small building, “This was the blacksmith and gunsmith. My grandfather always ended up fixing the guards’ weapons and making them new ones all the time. And that building…” She pointed to another building and everyone followed her finger toward a half standing building down the street, “That was the bakery. I used to buy muffins there and take them to my sister during her breaks, and we would eat them t-together wh-while talking a-about our days… ”

Rivy’s grip loosened a bit on Cero Miedo and she brought her other hand up to cover her mouth as her lips began to quiver as the rain slowly began to stop falling. Almost immediately, she was wrapped in a tight embrace by her mate, and then tears began to fall from her eyes. She used to never let the memories make her break down like this but after seeing Tiamat for the first time in twenty years at Heaven’s Clearing, she could hardly hold her emotions back now. She felt Ulysses’ hand pull her head closer and softly stroke the back of her head. She pressed her face against Ulysses’ shoulder and dropped Cero Miedo to the ground, and she wrapped her arms around Ulysses as well and cried into his shoulder.

Before long, Zarya’s arms wrapped around them both from the side, and then Saint’s wrapped around them from the other side. “Don’t hold anything back, sister,” Saint said softly to his close friend, “Let everything out that you can, and then we’ll look for what Tiamat wanted you to find.”

“You’ll get through this. You’ve gone through so much already,” Zarya said, the tips of her hair still a calm blue as her scales were, but slowly turning to dark grey as she started to feel sadness for what happened to everyone in Scalewood, especially Rivy, “Just a little more and you can hopefully be at peace.”

“We’ll rebuild this place,” Ulysses said in a gentle tone to his mate, “Once we have everything figured out, we’ll come back and start rebuilding. We’ll turn this back into a village for dragon Faunus, and we’ll make sure it stays that way for years. This will be home for you again, Rivy. I promise. And besides…” He separated from Rivy and the others did as well, and he kept her hands on her shoulders and smiled as the sun began to peek through the clouds and coat the area in rays of light, “We’ve both been needing a home for ourselves for a long, long time. The long roads, the camps, the inns, the bars, our apartment… All of those will be worth having to deal with once we rebuild this village.”

Saint looked around the ruins of the village for a few moments and slowly pulled his hood off his head. “I think I would love to help rebuild this place and have a home here as well. To have it be rebuilt to its full glory will hopefully let all those people rest easy.”

“Rebuilding this village in memory of all our fallen brothers and sisters…” Zarya began to say, taking her hood off as her scales and the tips of her hair faded fully to dark grey, and she sighed sadly, and then that color quickly turned to a fiery orange color as she gave a confident smile, “We’ll keep their memory alive. I know a Ranger that keeps up with who lives and lived in each village in Vale. I’ll have her give me a list of all the people that lived here and we’ll build them a memorial with all their names on it. This will always be their home, and I want it to be mine as well.”

Rivy stayed silent as every word sunk in from her closest allies. She looked down to the ground, her cries slowly calming and her tears subsiding, her breathing slowing down. She got down on one knee and looked into Momo’s eyes now, and then the atlesian shepherd licked her cheek a bit. Rivy couldn’t help but chuckle and she brought Momo in for a hug and she stroked her dog’s fur on her back and between her ears for several moments. Over the last year or so, Momo wasn’t just a pet for Rivy. Momo was a companion that always kept her company until Ulysses was finally able to be with her again, and Momo gave her emotional support for the days she needed it when Ulysses wasn’t there. Momo helped Rivy a lot in the time she had adopted the girl, and it was something Rivy would always appreciate.

“Thank you, Momo…” Rivy said softly to her pup, and then she slowly stood back to her feet, pulling her hood off and grabbing the hilt of Cero Miedo along the way, her eyes filled with determination as her cheeks and the scars on her face were stained with tears as she put her weapon on her back, “Thank you all. If it weren’t for all of you over the years having my back and letting me trust people again, I would be either dead or drowning myself in whiskey. You’ve helped me so much and I’ll forever be grateful to you. Yes… we will build a memorial for all the people that were murdered here and we will rebuild this village in their memory. We will rebuild this village to be a home for any dragon Faunus that need it and we’ll keep it safe from any danger whether it’s Grimm or another clan of worthless bandit trash. We’ll never let it be destroyed again!”

She said the last part in a yell and Momo howled in support of her mama, and all three of her companions started grinning widely. They had all seen her at her lowest of lows and highest of highs, and each low point hurt them all to see but each high point left them all raised up with her and this was one of those high points. After all those years, she was finally back in her home village, facing the last part of her terrible past head on and with a determined look in her eyes.

This was the Rivy they all respected and loved. She was loved as a close friend and sister to Saint and Zarya, loved as a mate to Ulysses, and of course, loved as a mother to Momo.

“So Rivy, where did Tiamat say that thing was?” Zarya asked the elder dragon Faunus, her scales and the tips of her hair turning back to blue.

Rivy turned toward the center of the village where a destroyed fountain was scattered along the cobblestone. Just just beyond that, past a few more buildings was the half destroyed remains of where she used to work so long ago. “The inn. Tiamat said that specifically.”

“Your mother and father owned it, didn’t they?” Saint asked as they all began to walk toward the inn, “I remember you telling us that you watched your father mixing drinks a good amount.”

Rivy nodded in confirmation. “He was mesmerizing with it. I learned a few things from him but neither him or mom let me handle the drink mixing,” She chuckled a bit, “I would have started after I turned twenty one.”

“I would have loved to have been around for that,” Ulysses said and smiled at his mate, “You’ve mixed a few drinks for us before and they were good. Do you think you would want to work there again and practice more with mixing drinks?”

Rivy didn’t have to think on an answer. “Absolutely.”

The group of four plus Momo made their way past the rubble and wood, a good majority of it still overtaken by vines like the entrance to the village. Twenty years had gone by since that day, and nature had definitely did its best to reclaim Scalewood. They all arrived at the ruined inn and stood right outside of it, all surveying the sight of it. The wood was half charred and the stone was of course covered in moss mostly, and many of the windows were broken out. It was a wonder half of the three story building was still standing. It would definitely need to be torn down the rest of the way so it can be rebuilt anew. But for now, that wasn’t a priority. Rivy stepped forward away from the group and Momo was right there at her heels, and she looked around the doorframe a bit before reaching over to wipe away the moss that covered the stone to reveal a sign.

“Welcome to the Blue Dragon Inn”

The words were faded and barely legible, but Rivy still remembered exactly what it was supposed to say. “It’s been so long… but I’ve finally come home.”

She walked through the doorway and Ulysses followed her while Saint and Zarya began to wordlessly patrol around the building, keeping an eye out for anyone or anything that would try to sneak up on them. Rivy stopped once more after stepping through the door and she looked around again, taking in the sight of everything after so long. She remembered everything about the parts that were still standing. She remembered waiting patiently at the side of the bar while her father mixed drinks for her to take to some patrons, and she remembered the smell of the food the staff cooked constantly for them all as well. She sighed at the sight of all the broken tables and glass, and all the shattered and destroyed cups and tankards that would have been used for drinks ranging from water to just beer while the broken glasses were reserved for the special mixed drinks.

“That table in the corner,” Rivy pointed Ulysses toward the half destroyed table and the chairs in the corner of the room, “That’s where my grandfather always sat when he closed his workshop for the night and played cards with his old friends. He was always having a good time even when he lost.”

“That was Riah, right?” Ulysses asked softly as they could hear Momo’s claws tapping against the floor as she explored around where they could walk freely.

Rivy nodded. “He was a great man. Eighty years old but still working like he was twenty. Dragon Faunus do tend to have more strength and stamina at older ages than other Faunus or humans.”

Ulysses hummed lightly. “I would have loved to meet him and the rest of your family.”

“And I would have loved for you, Saint, and Zarya to meet them all.”

After taking a few moments to recollect herself, Rivy began to walk toward the bar and walk around to get behind it, taking Cero Miedo off her back. She saw a pile of rubble behind it near the middle, and she remembered what Tiamat had told her to look for. “Behind the bar, under the wood and rocks that fell from the back wall, you’ll find it. I’ve protected it all these years for you.” That was all she said, but Rivy knew that it was something extremely important. She went over to the rubble and got down on her knees, propping her sword against the bar, and then she started to slowly dig through it. It took several long moments and Momo was next to her during it, just watching curiously to see what her mama was doing. And soon, Rivy found exactly what Tiamat had meant, and she pulled it out of the rubble.

It was a family photo, taken and framed just days before the destruction of Scalewood to be displayed right above and behind the bar on the mantle. Her grandfather, Riah, was on the left side with completely silver hair, looking as old as his age but standing as strong as ever. One black, blue tinted horn was left on his head as the other had been long broken off after a battle against a powerful Grimm and his eyes were blue. He was wearing the uniform of a blacksmith complete with a recently-cleaned grey apron, black pants, and a brown shirt under the apron. The next over was her mother, Fay. She had red eyes and red scales that covered a bit more of her cheeks than what Rivy’s did and they extended to cover the entirety of her arms and her sides, along with her upper back and shoulders. She was wearing a simple outfit of blue jeans and a red blouse. Her hair was long and red as well. Next to her was Rivy’s father, Thorne. He had dark blue hair that was cut short, the same color as Riah’s once was and he had dragon wings on his back, blue in color mostly. He wore a pair of blue jeans as well, along with a dark blue vest. Kneeling in front of them was Tiamat, wearing nearly full black leather armor except for over her arms, showing off the red scales that covered them. Her hair was in a tight ponytail. Next to her and standing up in front of their parents with a happy smile on her scarless face was Rivy herself, a happy sixteen year old girl with strong hopes for her future. Her hair was just past her ears in length at the time and still red like her sister’s in contrast to her blue eyes and scales. She was wearing her simple, modest barmaid uniform.

She was holding her baby brother in her arms, Kairon. He had cute little blue wings sprouting from his back.

“H-how did this survive…” Rivy said quietly as tears came to her eyes once more and she clutched the sides of the frame in her hands. The glass on the front was broken but the picture itself was undamaged, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them all…”

Ulysses walked around the bar to her and knelt down behind her. “You looked cute, you know.” He said softly.

Rivy smiled, her voice catching in her throat a bit. “Th-that’s what everyone told me. Tia… She picked that out for me to wear.”

“It was a good choice.”

Rivy shifted the position of her hand and felt something off about the frame, and she turned it around and noticed a secret compartment had been rotted away a bit, revealing a silver key inside. Rivy knew exactly what the key went to. She gently opened the compartment up and took the key out, and she handed the picture to Ulysses before she looked around the wall behind the bar. It was made up of cobblestone and held together by cement, all of it polished and smooth, but in a small area there were stones that weren’t held together at all. It surprised Rivy that they had stayed like that all those years, but she suspected that Tiamat had something to do with that. She pulled the stone out of the wall and soon revealed a hidden safe, and she pulled the safe out, put the key in, and easily unlocked it. Rivy hesitated for several moments before she took a deep breath and slowly opened it up, sitting down fully on the floor with her back against the bar and Momo sitting next to her.

Rivy gasped and her eyes widened at seeing the contents of the safe, and she reached in and pulled them out. They were all family photos, along with thirty thousand lien. Rivy slowly looked through them all and her eyes teared up even more than from seeing the first picture. They were all pictures of different moments of everyone’s lives. There were old pictures of her grandfather and his mate, photos of each newborn baby from Fay to Thorne, all the way down to Kairos. One was of Tiamat on the day she became captain of the guard, the youngest in Scalewood’s history at twenty years old. Another was of the day Tiamat forged her sword in Riah’s workshop, a day that made their grandfather extremely proud. Another one was the day after Fay and Thorne became mates. The last that Rivy saw before she had to put them back in the safe was of her first day as a barmaid. She had a huge, toothy smile and her eyes were closed because of it.

“This was what she wanted me to find…” Rivy murmured and took the picture from Ulysses, putting it in the safe and closing it back up, putting the key in her pocket, “It’s survived all these years here…” She hugged the safe close to her chest, and for just that moment, Ulysses could see past all the scars, all the hard muscles, all the years of pain and frustration, and all the battles they’ve shared and he could see her for who she should have been. Just an innocent girl that wanted to do nothing more than help her village.

“Do you want to go now since you found that?” Ulysses asked softly and laid his hand on her shoulder, and then he caught sight of something in the wall where the safe was pulled from, “Hmm?”

He peered inside the wall and blinked, and then he reached inside and pulled out two bottles of a blue liquid. “What’s this?” He set one bottle down and turned the other around to inspect the label, “Blue Frost Bourbon?”

“O-oh gods, two bottles survived…” Rivy began to smile a bit, “My father… He was always trying to make a great bourbon and he finally felt like he did with that. Everyone loved it, but I could never have a drink because I was too young. I wonder…” she leaned forward and reached into the wall and felt around for a few moments before she felt a piece of paper, and she grabbed it and pulled it out, and she unfolded it, “He left the recipe for it… I never expected a-any of this wh-when we came here today…”

She opened the safe and put the recipe inside, and she closed it back up before returning to holding the safe to her chest. “I think… we can go now,” Rivy said and stood up off the ground. Ulysses noticed that she had a small smile on her face and her tears weren’t of sadness anymore. They were happy tears, “I think this is all she wanted me to find.”

Ulysses stood up as well, holding the two bottles of bourbon in his hands and he smiled at the sight of his mate’s expression. “You look a lot different now I think.”

Rivy looked at him in confusion. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

“You just look peaceful now. It’s beautiful.”

Rivy smiled a bit more and she stepped forward to kiss him on the lips. “I think I finally feel at peace now too. You know…” She pressed her head against his shoulder, “After we rebuild, then… I think I want to try to have a child of my own with you.”

Ulysses started to smile even more and pressed his head down against her’s. “I would love nothing more than that, love." 

The two stood like that for several moments before they shared another kiss, and then they left the in along with Momo and they met back up with Saint and Zarya. "I’m assuming you found it?” Saint asked hopefully.

Rivy nodded in response. “I did. And I think I found peace along with it.”

Zarya smiled at hearing that and her scales and hair began to change to a bright white color to display her absolute joy for Rivy. “I’m so happy for you, Rivy. If there was anyone in the world who deserved peace, it would be you without a doubt.”

“That’s amazing to hear,” Saint said and smiled as well, “What did you find?”

“A safe full of family photos and thirty thousand lien to help us rebuild Scalewood,” Ulysses answered for his mate and held up the two bottles of the cool blue liquid, “and two bottles of Blue Frost Bourbon with at least twenty years of age to it, along with the recipe for it.”

Saint’s smile turned to a grin. “When do we get to try the bourbon?”

“And when do we get to see the pictures?” Zarya asked and began to grin as well.

Rivy laughed at that and smiled back at them. “Let’s get back to the truck and we’ll do just that.”

Rivy led them all back through the village and this time, she walked with a new purpose in her steps. Everyone was glad to follow behind her, and Momo was especially happy because she sensed how happy her mama felt and her tail wagged behind her with each step. They soon made their way back to the truck and Zarya went to the back and opened the door, then pulled out a small table from the truck and four shot glasses from a small box and set them on the table. The table was built to be pulled straight out from the truck with another table beside of it that can be pulled out with a burner in it to cook food easily. But for now, the table was all they needed.

“How excited are you to finally be able to try this stuff, Rivy?” Ulysses asked his mate with a grin as he opened one of the bottles up, and they were all immediate hit with the scent of cool mint.

Rivy smiled and breathed deeply though her nose. “I’m very excited. I’ve always wondered what it tastes like and now I finally have the chance.”

Ulysses filled each glass with the light blue bourbon and closed the bottle, and then everyone took a glass in their hands. “I think this calls for some sort of toast, doesn’t it?” Saint asked everyone.

Zarya nodded. “I agree. This is a very special occasion.”

“I think that’s more than fitting,” Ulysses agreed as well and nodded, “Would you like to start, Saint?”

Saint nodded back at him and raised his glass. “To the reclamation and rebuilding of Scalewood.”

Zarya raised her glass. “To everyone who was lost, and to everyone who is still with us.”

Ulysses raised his glass and smiled at his mate. “To Rivy.”

Rivy smiled at that and slowly raised her glass into the air, and she looked around at these three people closest to her, and she remembered her grandfather, her parents, her sister, and her baby brother. She remembered the hell she endured to get to this point, all to avenge what had happened to her village that she was now planning to rebuild with the help of Ulysses, Saint, and Zarya, and she was sure that the friends they had made throughout the years would aid them in that. 

“To family.” Rivy said finally, and each person downed their shots as Momo howled into the air.

Everyone could feel their mouths tingle with the taste of the mint along with the alcohol in the bourbon, and the coolness of it made it go down extremely easily when they all swallowed it. After that, they all got the faint aftertaste of blueberry, and it was all tasted absolutely wonderful to them. The transition from the taste of mint to blueberry was perfect. Everyone there could definitely tell why the bourbon was so popular among everyone in Scalewood.

“That… is amazing,” Saint said and let out a deep breath, still feeling the coolness of the mint in his mouth, “I haven’t tasted anything like this in my life.”

“Neither have I,” Zarya said and licked her lips, humming in delight, “I think that drink was perfect to mark a new chapter in our lives.”

Ulysses nodded and refilled everyone’s glasses, and everyone eagerly drank it down once more. “Gods, it’s so good.”

“Oh Light, the second drink tastes even better~” Saint said with a big grin, “I probably shouldn’t drink anymore considering I’m driving.”

Ulysses chuckled at that and put the lid back on the bottle. “I agree. I think these should only be broken out for special occasions. What did you think of it, love?”

He looked over to Rivy and what he saw brought a smile filled with joy to his face. She was smiling like she was sixteen again, and tears of happiness fell down her cheeks once more. “It’s absolutely amazing…” She looked up to the heavens, where she was sure all her family were watching her. She could just imagine the smile on her father’s face right now after she finally got to try his bourbon, “I-it’s perfect, dad. I’ll do my best to make more one day.”

Ulysses put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “They would all be happy for you, Rivy.”

“When are we going to start rebuilding?” Zarya asked Rivy, her scales still white.

“I think… we should start as soon as possible,” Rivy answered her, “Let’s go back to Vale now. We have a lot of people to call.”

[totally-monsterous-au]

The Villains Ball

There was a rush of gasps and frightened yells as a large shadow blocked the light of the full moon. The gust of wind that accompanied its swoop downwards mussed the hair of several villains and nearly knocked others off their feet. A multitude of yellow eyes opened and gave off a soft glow. Then the shadow’s vast wings folded in with a WOOSH and it bared its toxic green fangs. 

“OKAY LET ME DOWN NOW!” The villains, who had been so captivated by the new arrival were startled from their reverie by this voice. There was a heavy sigh from the shadowy creature as it stepped forward into the light. There, it was obvious that a pair or shiny arms were wrapped around its neck. 

Eldritch leaned forward until his sharp claws scraped the ground so that Dr. Gyro could get down from his perch between the monster’s shoulder blades.  The other’s gathered, waiting to get into the ball, watched this spectacle with mild curiosity. Most knew the creature Eldritch- he was a powerful villain and a feared adversary- but this smaller man with metal arms and a bag over his head was new. The doctor stumbled and fell forward before Eldritch caught him with a hand around his waist. 

“Please Doctor, I have a reputation,” Eldritch grumbled into Gyro’s ear. Then he straightened back to his full intimidating height. At this point the villain’s had returned their attention to the entrance to Camille and Ventus’s mansion, but a few kept darting wary eyes towards the odd pair. 

Dr. Gyro was trying to keep his breathing steady. At his sides he was involuntarily flexing his fingers with the nervous feeling settling into his chest. He was really here wasn’t he? Really at this ball with Eldritch, dressed up in suit and bow-tie, and hoping he wasn’t going to sweat through his mask. His eyes flickered across the architecture to avoid the crowd of people in front of him. 

It was almost insane to see villains making such bold moves with their homes; having a place that stands out in the city usually meant being a target for heroes to come smash you're door in. But if any of the rumors Gyro had heard about Ventus and Camille were true they were probably safe. 

Marble snakes curled around pillars leading up to the roof. The neatly trimmed hedges around the walkways were laced with orange fairy lights. The line into the mansion was short enough that Gyro could see through the double doors to a beautiful red carpet leading into a pale yellow dance floor. Soft orchestral music floated out into the night air as the doctor took a deep breath. 

“Go on,” Eldritch whispered and gave Gyro a small nudge to his middle back. He was sliding his invitation into a box near the door as his employee entered the hall. Now it was Eldritch’s turn to shake his nerves. He closed his many eyes and cracked his knuckles. 

“So, sir, how are-” Gyro began to speak before a loud “schlorping” sound occurred just behind him.

The doctor raised an eyebrow and turned around to see what his boss was up to.

The gasp that was punched out of his body nearly made him forget he needed to breath. 

Eldritch was standing there with a smirk on his face, yet it wasn’t Eldritch. He was stunning, radiant, more handsome than anyone Gyro had laid eyes on. Now it wasn’t that Eldritch wasn’t a beautiful creature when he was in his usually form, it was just... this was new. Eldritch hadn’t been in this form in front of the doctor ever. 

He was still towering above the other, his eyes on his hat calmly reading the doctor’s face. The red and gold coat he wore had been a shift he had been perfecting for the past few days. It didn’t show, but he swallowed nervously as he grinned and reached out a hand to lay on Gyro’s shoulder. “Come, lets go and greet out hosts. “

They stepped out into the main chamber side by side. A set of curved staircases led up onto a landing where two figures stood looking out over the ball. 

  “ELDRITTCHHHH!!!!” The screech of a feminene voice cut violently through the lovely music. There was a great clatter of heels on the stairs as one of the two figures came rushing down. Camille barreled into the Eldritch at full speed, and he was never more grateful that he could take that kind of force easily. 

“You made it!” Eldritch smiled and was about to respond when a second voice cut in, 

“Unlike last time.” Ventus had taken their time joining them, the long train on their suit coat not being something one wanted to trip on.  The charming joy on Eldritch’s face turned to sheepishness as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I apologize for that, I simply wasn’t feeling social that year...”

“Bullshit!” Ventus laughed and shook their head. “You just didn't want to bring along your sweetheart.” At this, Camille lit up and her attention turned to Gyro. The doctor flushed bright red beneath his bag when she gripped his shoulders. 

“Aw! They’re so cute too!” He was going to die from embarrassment. He tried to speak up, 

“Wait! He’s not my-” But he was interrupted by Eldritch.

“Doctor Gyro is not my partner, and I think he would like you to let go of him Camille.” The red haired woman released him a moment later, but she looked confused. Her golden eyes darted to meet her spouses grey ones and they shared a nod.

“Darling, can we speak to you alone for a moment? Your friend will be fine by himself a spell, yes?” It was too late for either of the boys to respond before the taller was being escorted off into a corner. Eldritch was about to complain when Camille’s fingers wrapped tightly around his forearm. She looked ready to stab him. 

“Eldritch you are head over heels for that ‘doctor’ boy and he feels the same, so you are going to ask him to dance once we are done here.” She hissed. Eldritch looked at her in offense and immediately snapped back,

“You read his AND my emotions without permission!” Camille was a well trained empath as well as being incredibly strong and smart. 

“Absolutely not! You know that’s one of my rules with friends, but YOU TWO are the ones absolutely overflowing with nerves and love for each other right now, so much that it’s seeping out of your skin!” This caused Eldritch’s cheeks to darken. 

“But I-”

“We don't want excuses, hun,” Ventus butted in. Their black lips were turned down in sharp disapproval. “We want you to be happy and then we want to catch up with you later.” 

“But why don’t we catch up right-”

“Because we love you even though you haven’t contacted us in forever so go get your man and THEN we can talk.” This was all so sudden and slightly overwhelming. Eldritch glanced over to where Gyro was standing by the base of the stairs lost in thought. Then he looked to his friends and saw the determination on their faces. Another deep breath and Eldritch was striding back across the floor. 

“He’s such a dork,” Ventus whispered to their wife. Camille giggled and rested her head on Ventus’s shoulder. 

“He really is, isn’t he...” 

Gyro came out of his daze as the clack of thick heeled boots approached. He looked up to see Eldritch’s face within a foot of his own and he nearly jumped out of his skin. The taller cleared his throat and then said, 

“Would you care to dance?” Gyro’s heart stopped for a moment. 

He doesn’t remember saying yes, or reaching to put his hand on Eldritch’s shoulder, but next thing Gyro knew he was being swept out onto the floor. His heart was hammering in his throat, his head was spinning, and the feeling of Eldritch’s claws on his hip burned. He was spun and twirled and lifted to the chords of the song being played. He stared at the strong line of Eldritch’s jaw to  focus on anything but the rush of blood to his cheeks. 

Then cool air his hit back, and the doctor realized they had danced out onto the balcony. The full moon glinted off his mechanics and glittered on the gold of Eldritch’s suit. As the soft waves of violin were fading into the end of number, Gyro met his dance partners gaze. The intensity of emotions he saw there- reverence, dedication, and something he didn't want to name for fear of it being a lie- it all crashed into him as he let go of their entwined hands to rip the bag from his head. 

He took a breath of cold night air as he felt his body being dipped down. The hand on his hip slipped under his thigh as the free one gripped his waist. Then Gyro pulled  Eldritch to him and-

Gyro had never felt so alive. 

[angst-and-heartache]

Ranger!UA

Chapter 5: Vengence

The folowing is a fictional story based off events in the show RWBY. All rights and ownership belong to Rooster Teeth. Any pallels between this story and future episodes of RWBY are pure coincidence and I claim no credit for them. Please support Rooster Teeth and watch the show through them if you haven't already.

3 days passed normally with a small amount of grimm roaming towards the town each night. The fourth day there was nothing. No grimm, not so much as a snarl. Ruby brushed this off at first, assuming the grimm would return the next day. Still nothing. On the seventh night since Weiss had left Ruby received a message. Atlasian soldiers would be arriving in two days. The next night Ruby was truly confused. The grimm hadn’t attacked in five days and she was sure she hadn’t killed them all. The grimm’s numbers never diminished in her experience, even after taking down several hundred at once. Something wasn’t right and she knew this. She returned to her home once more as the sun was just about to rise. “What the hell…? This isn’t right. Grimm never go th-” She stopped at her doorway and grit her teeth. A low growl could be heard behind her. “So that’s what you were doing.” Looking out of the corner of her eye she could see a beowolf alpha emerging from the woods. It stood nearly five times the size of a normal beowolf with much more armor covering its body. The beast leapt at her baring its fangs. Ruby ducked and spun away as it crashed through her doorway into her home. She drew Crescent rose as several more beowolves crept over her roof. “I spent a long time on this house, so fuck off!” She leapt at the beasts, swinging her scythe with blinding speed and precision. Several of them dropped in seconds. The alpha came barreling out of the house, snarling at Ruby as an arrow embedded itself in its chest. A roar of pain erupted from the things maw as a dozen more grimm came running out of the woods. Ruby went to work hacking, slashing, and cleaving at grimm as a horde converged on the house. She was soon surrounded by beowolves and ursas. She was backed up to her house, holding them at bay as they charged. An alpha managed to slash at the Ranger between attacks. She barely dodged, the beast’s claw catching her side, tearing through her armor. “Dammit!” Ruby winced. Using her bracer, Ruby pulled out an arrow and shoved it into the alpha’s eye, dropping it instantly. Before she could recover the sound of wood snapping behind her caught her ear. She turned around as splinters blasted past her and a behemoth, a large grimm resembling a black mammoth with white tusks and a white skull-like plate on its head, tore through her home. She held up Crescent Rose to block the tusks only to have the weapon thrown from her hands and herself thrown into the edge of the woods. She rolled several yards across the ground, coming to a hard stop against a tree. Ruby stood, panting as her aura crackled around her. Ruby’s vision blurred and her breathing became shallow. Wincing, she clutched her side. Several of her rib were shattered and it hurt to breath. Fighting a straight fight against this many grimm in her condition would prove difficult even for her. She took a painful breath to clear her vision and scanned the area quickly. Dozens of grimm surrounded her, a couple behemoths numbering among them. Amongst the ruins of her home stood a humanoid figure. Ruby recognized him instantly. “You.” Ruby drew Bloodtinge. “You killed my mother.” The figure laughed. “Your mother? Well, if that’s so then come avenge her. It should be fun.” The figure stepped into the light, a scrawny looking man with a scar across his face. Tan skin and a long black ponytail resembling a scorpion’s tail. “If you can reach me, that is.” He laughed maniacally as a nevermore flew overhead. Ruby grit her teeth and vanished into a cloud of rose petals. Ruby now stood next to him, Bloodtinge at his throat. “Don’t underestimate me.” The man looked up, not paying Ruby and mind. “Might want to watch where you’re standing.” Ruby looked up as the nevermore was diving at her. She managed to hold her blade up to block as several nevermore quills pierced the ground around her, two glancing off the large blade. The man took this opportunity to attack, swinging at her with two wrist mounted blades. Ruby cried out and staggered backwards, hand covering her right eye. Blood poured down her face from behind her hand, covering the entire right side of her face and blocking her vision. She slowly lowered her hand, revealing a sizable gash. “You bastard!” She spat. Another cry from the nevermore alerted Ruby. Gritting her teeth, Ruby stabbed her blade into the ground. The man watched her curiously as she pulled a quill out of the ground. Holding it at the base of the feathered portion she aimed it like a javelin. She lined it up and launched the quill, spearing the nevermore in the neck. The creature went down quickly, crashing into the house behind the man. “My my. You’re a strong one. And you can still see well enough to aim like that? Impressive. No wonder my mistress wants you dead.” Ruby gripped the handle of her weapon, panting. “Shut the hell up. You better hope this injury is worse than it looks because it’s the only way you’ll manage to kill me.” She twisted the handle like she was revving a motorcycle and the edge of the blade glowed with an eerie red tinge. “Come on, you bastard.” The man cackled. “Oh, Little Red. Did you really think this would be a fair fight?” Ruby glared at him as best she could with one eye as the forest around her lit up with a dozen pairs of red eyes. “No.” Ruby said, a silver aura beginning to form around her uninjured eye. “I didn’t.” The grimm in the forest charged at Ruby, only to be engulfed in a blinding white light that erupted from the woman. The man recoiled and covered his eyes. “Gah!” When the light faded all of the grimm turned to ash. Ruby stood in the same position, panting. The aura around her eye persisted but did little more than glow now. Ruby chuckled as the man snarled at her. “I guess you haven’t been doing your research. You should have hunted me down years ago.” Her tone was lighthearted but there was an unmistakable fury in her eye. She hated this man with every fiber of her being. She removed her blade from the ground and moved towards the man. “Tyrian, wasn’t it?” The air around the blade shimmered as heat radiated from it. “I hope you weren’t expecting a fair fight.”

Tyrian watched Ruby as she closed in on him, a twisted grin on his face. “Mommy’s little girl thinks she can win this fight? You’ll die just like she did.” Ruby stopped a few meters from Tyrian, the blade of Bloodtinge singing what grass was left on the ground. “You’re five years too late to make that claim.” She swung the blade in an upward arc, aiming for his head. Tyrian’s eyes widened as he arched backwards, the heat from the blade slightly burning the skin on his face. He did a back handspring to increase the distance between himself and Ruby. Tyrian placed his right hand on his cheek and winced. “You bitch!” He growled and lunged at her. A flurry of white and grey steel bursted out and sparks flew across the battlefield. While Tyrian had the advantage of dual weapons and faster attacks Ruby had mastered her semblance using it to hasten her attacks and keep up with Tyrian. Their auras shattered almost simultaneously and the two jumped away from each other, panting. There were several cauterized wounds littering Tyrian’s torso. Ruby only had a large gash on her back and a gash on her left shoulder but they were deep, having torn through her armor and muscle. Her left arm was shaking slightly, forcing Ruby to fight with one hand. Ruby revved the hilt again as Tyrian lunged, their blades clashing and coming to a standstill. “You should know something about my mother.” Ruby said, looking Tyrian in the eyes. “She hated fighting. She loathed it.” Tyrian cackled. “What does it matter? She’s dead now!” Ruby smirked. “Maybe, but when a huntsman or huntress designs their own weapon it is an extension of themself. My mother designed this weapon to prevent her from having to spill blood. When she couldn’t avoid conflict the blood stained the blade. She never tried to clean it because it served as a reminder. This heat was also her idea.” Ruby pressed the blade against Tyrian’s. As they two pressed into each other Ruby’s blade began cutting through Tyrian’s. As his blades broke Ruby spun on her toe and landed a spinning heel kick to Tyrian’s temple. He let out a short cry of pain as he was thrown to the ground. When he turned over the now cooled blade of Bloodtinge was at his throat. “Give up or I will kill you.” Ruby said calmly. Tyrian grinned. “I don’t think so.” A flash of movement from Ruby’s left caught her attention. Her reflexes kicked in as her left hand grasped the object, sending a jolt of pain through her body. She looked over to see a scorpion tail and stinger protruding from Tyrian’s body with the stinger inches from her face. There was a tug as he tried to free the appendage from her grasp to no avail. Ruby drew back and cleaved the back half of the tail off, placing her foot on Tyrian’s chest. A guttural scream erupted from Tyrian’s throat as he thrashed under Ruby’s boot. She stood there, letting him feel the pain for a moment. “You should have just given up. I gave you a chance.” She took her boot off his chest and took a step back. “Stand up.” Tyrian glared at her pushing himself to his feet. Ruby placed the tip of her blade against his chest. The two started at each other for a moment. Tyrian’s blood boiled hotter with each passing second. How could he have lost against this woman? Why was she so much stronger than he was? It a fit of rage he shoved Ruby’s blade aside, cutting a gash across his chest, and lunged at Ruby. His attack passed harmlessly through a cloud of rose petals. The rev of Bloodtinge caught his ear. Ruby was standing beside him, blade hoisted into the air ready to strike. “This is for my mother.” She brought the blade down and the forest fell silent. Tyrian’s body slumped to the ground, lifeless. Ruby staggered back and dropped to her knees. Breathing heavily, she looked around the remnants of the battle. “Damn… that could have gone better.” She then turned her attention to her mother’s weapon. “I got him Mom. I know you would probably be upset with me for killing him but he was too far gone to save. I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.” Ruby stood slowly and placed Bloodtinge in its sheath and retrieved her scythe she lost at the beginning of the battle. She also bandaged her shoulder, back, and eye as best she could before sitting down in what was left of the kitchen. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, resting against the wall. “Guess I’ll wait for that transport.” With that she passed out, exhausted.

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Mollymauk Tealeaf wakes up in a grave by the road ten years after he died. Things have gone a bit wrong since then and he might be the only one who can set things right… since it’s the Mighty Nein themselves who’ve gone wrong. AU: Where Molly comes back to yell at his super-powered Level 20 friends. (AO3 - part1) (AO3 - part 2) (AO3 - part3) (AO3 - part4) (AO3 - part5) (AO3-part6)

Molly opens his eyes.

The first thing he’s aware of is the splitting jag of pain in the back of his skull, radiating from a molten point of impact near the top of his head. He’s secondly aware of his broken right arm which shoots a bolt of screaming heat up his wrist to his shoulder socket. For a dizzy moment there’s nothing but the pain. Thirdly, he realizes he’s lying in a thin layer of watery mud, silt sliding around his body about half a foot deep and soaking his clothes and hair. Water is misting cool against his face.

His vision clarifies slowly, the sound of rumbling somewhere in a muffled distance and overhead there is a thin strip of daylight nearly half a mile away, shining through the gap between the two dark walls of ocean water. Too dizzy to panic, Molly registers that he’s been relocated somewhere far along the road of the Crushing Deep and he can’t remember anything about how. Nothing but fangs and wind.

Molly groans and rolls over. Hissing and gritting his teeth against a myriad jolting of broken bone, abrasions and bruises. His arms are scraped, his clothes ripped, rather like he had to grapple with a cheese grater… or a dragon with thousands of sharp, armored scales that was trying to hold him in its claws. Molly’s aching head suggests he fell hard enough to knock the details out of his brain, but at some point he was dropped here.

The question is for how long.

He paws at his hip.

The scimitars are there. He digs into the satchel belt Nott gave him, pulls a vial of healing potion and uncorks it with his teeth and downs it. Shudders as the heat slides across his broken and bleeding parts and knits them shut, mending calcium and marrow until his broken arm aches, but functions. He tosses the vial, tries to stand… falls back to his knees, shivering with adrenaline. His tail curls instinctively around his right thigh, a shudder sliding though him. He feverishly congratulates past Mollymauk on being paranoid enough to sleep in full gear while he surveys the dark, watery corridor around him.

He’s alone.

He looks behind him – there in the far distance is the light of the shore, the size of postage stamp from afar.

He looks ahead of him – the walls of water close like an arch so no sun can penetrate from above, turning the rest of the road into a dark tunnel leading into a deep, freezing blackness. All around him, he can see shadows moving in the dark waters, like humongous fish in an aquarium… but looking nothing like any fish or beast Molly’s ever seen.

“Oh bloody hell,” Molly whispers.

He forces himself up. He can’t stop shivering. He’s shaking so hard his teeth are chattering, but he doesn’t feel any cold, just the neutral warmth off Nott’s enchanted earrings as he turns and trudges toward the shore. Every step is unsteady, shivery with adrenaline. He folds his arms around him to stop the shaking. It doesn’t work. Through the raw, driving instinct to keep moving, he still has a moment of shining, hysterical clarity just long enough to think: Being dead must have been less stressful than this.

Then Nott’s voice comes bursting in his ear: “Molly! Don’t worry! We’re coming for you! Are you okay?” Then at much higher, louder volumes, “YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE!”

Molly shakes off his immediate heart-stopping terror at being yelled at via Sending. Then he hisses, “I’m in the Crushing Deep. I’m not hurt but hurry the fuck up.” He glances at the dark waters on either side of him. “I don’t know where that dragon went or why it dropped me.”

Then, while he’s counting his words to determine if he has enough to add more, a voice directly behind him says, “I’m right here.”

Molly hasn’t been in a fight for ten years technically. That doesn’t stop him from spinning around and slamming his right-handed scimitar to the goddamn hilt in the speaker’s gut. Blood bursts cold over his fist, dripping heavily from his knuckles, the blade humming with a terrible joy that Nott hadn’t warned him about. It surges a brief warm glow through Molly’s body, sliding like fingers through lines of muscle. But that warmth is nothing in the face of the cold, hollow dread.

Because the speaker still looks exactly like Yasha.

She tilts her head, glances at the blade in her stomach, then grins at Molly through bloody human teeth.

“Not very smart are you? Jumping out of a dragon’s claws mid-air.”

Molly slams the second scimitar up in her ribcage and wrenches, gets a satisfying huff of pain from the shape-changer.

He hisses, “Stop wearing my friend’s face!”

The monster ignores Molly, ignores the blades in her belly, grabs Molly’s jaw in two hands, and yanks him forward, slamming her mouth against his with such force his lip splits and blood floods him mouth as the thing with Yasha’s face drags a ravenous tongue between his teeth. She kisses him vicious, catching his lip between her teeth. Molly immediately rips both blades out and carves her flanks open in gaping, bloody holes. She ignores that… but when he wrenches back, she lets him go staggering.

“None of fucking that!” Molly spits blood, baring teeth.

“You didn’t hesitate.” Not-Yasha grins. “I’m surprised with you, dead thing.”

“I’m not dead,” Molly snaps, backing up, blades in a defensive cross.

“You’re a dead thing tethered here on thread spun by gods,” says Not-Yasha. Her sides are knitting back together. “There’s power in that. Power you can eatif you’re hungry enough.” She’s walking toward him, forcing Molly to back away. “I could eat you alive over and over. Until your gods give up on you and leave you a corpse at last.” She smiles and blood floods black from her mouth. “Unless they don’t. We could consume you forever, Mollymauk. Imagine.”

“Fuck off,”Molly says in Infernal to mask how gut-twisting terrifyingthat possibility is. “My friends are coming to kill you. I hear they’re strong.”

“But you’re oh sofucking weak.” Not-Yasha moves toward him again, slowly, unhurried. “They can’t protect you. Obviously. What could I do to you before they get here? You’re nothing except a thing that won’t stay dead.” Her hand comes up, spread toward him. “But before I take you to him… I need you to–“

Molly whips the scimitar across his body, blinding fast, then jumps back and to the left.

Monster-Yasha stares at the sudden bloody stump at the end of her wrist. “Hmm,” she says. “I’m going to take your guts out one at a time.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Molly hisses.  

“Did you really think your orc brat was the only one bound to the Great Serpent?” She smiles and the smile becomes lipless, taut across the skull. “You should fall to your knees, dead thing. Your gods can’t protect you here.”

But before Molly can process the horrifying implications, there’s a gun shot. The monster’s head snaps back, a burst of red mist flowering from the skull and Not-Yasha staggers back a single step, her neck arched backward with the hit, but she does not fall. Molly jerks around just in time to see Nott, crouched in the road with a dimension door sliding shut behind her, as she lines up another shot and screams, “SHEILD, MOLLY!”

He activates the spell and drops to a ball with his hands over his ears. Nott fires again. She hits Not-Yasha as she starts to come back up (her body twitching horribly, splitting apart like rotten fruit peeling open–) and the shot detonates. The blast is so powerful, it ignites the air and the entire road is fire and super-heated steam, the kinetic force sucked the barrier bowed around Molly’s body. The air super-heats, so hot his bare skin blisters.

“AGAIN! SHEILD AGAIN!”

Molly brings up the other sword, activates the spell and the second wall comes up and for a split second through the smoke and steam, Molly sees something massive erupting upward in horrible jerking bursts of bone and flesh. Then she hits it with another explosive shot and this time the force is so powerful Molly is pinned flat in the mud, his shield like a bell jar on top of him, keeping out the fire. The spell sputters, flares, then dies… and the road is seemingly empty.

Molly levers himself up onto his hands and knees where he retches for a moment. His hands are sunk to the wrist in silt and fine sand, slithering sea-life writhing in the mud beneath his fingers but he’s too busy hacking up a lung to notice or care. He shakes his hair out of his face, grabs for his scimitar –

And that’s when the ground beneath him shudders.

“Oh fuck,” Molly manages before five massive claws burst from the sand and close over him in a gargantuan fist. Molly has just enough instinct to lunge for the largest visible gap between the thumb and forefinger before the dragon’s claws snap shut around his lower body. Then he’s being yanked upward with such velocity the world blurs. He sees things in wild snap shots, the water, his own forearm braced against mottle blue-white scales, the underbelly of a beast.

Pain flares through the bones in his legs and pelvis, shooting across every nerve, but he can’t focus on that. Molly’s moving so fucking fast he can’t see, being jolted, vertigo yanking his stomach out through his throat as the ground rushes and swings wildly away. He feels the mithril chain shirt is digging through his ribs, but even so he finds enough air to scream as loud as he can:

“NOTT! SHOOT IT! JUST SHOOT IT—!”

A bullet slams into the trunk of the dragon’s arm somewhere at the elbow… then detonates. The bullet blows the entire center out of it. Then, blasted free of the main body and spraying burning cold blood, it begins to fall… with Molly still gripped in its dead hold. He tears loose, driving his boot back into the fist holding him until a giant claw comes loose, then he launches straight forward, ripping free and then he’s falling free. The wind roars, tearing across his ears, the momentum ripping at his clothes and –

“Molly!”

Yasha materializes in the air directly beneath him and he slams into her chest, solid as a wall and driving the air straight out of him, but her limbs close around and the field of her levitation seizes hold of him. Then they’re rocketing backward together. Yasha wheels in reverse, downward, then spins around to right them before she comes to a messy, skidding landing in the briny mud. Their boots drag in the sludge, then they’re still on the ground.

“Good catch,” Molly pants, untangling himself.

He looks up over his shoulder and there, wheeling in the air between the watery canyon walls, gleams the flying bulk of a massive blue-black sea dragon. Dark and serpentine, born on leathery wings and magic, its eyes gleam luminous yellow, slit up the center, and even now are fixed on Molly. The back-draft of its wings like hurricane winds, batter and tear at hair and clothes. Blood pours from the severed stump of its right arm.

He snaps his fingers and both of his lost scimitars reappear in their sheathes at his hip. As he pulls both free, he shouts over the wind, “You wanna kill that thing or what?”

“Stop getting knocked around and I will,” says Yasha. Her eyes flare suddenly bottle blue and burning. She flips her weapon into her hand, gripping it two handed before planting her feet and launching with such force the mud bursts away from the point of liftoff. Molly immediately races back toward Nott who is screaming something like “GODS DAMMIT! WHY IS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS?” and reloading frantically.

Molly reaches her, flips his blades across the back of his neck, and drags – feels that familiar burn of metal splitting and separating skin. Radiant fire ignites along the edge, like his blood is ignition fluid and the whole blade immediately goes up in light. The rite latches onto his soul, part of his very life force living now in the swords and it’s terrifying and comforting all at once. Then he’s standing side-by-side with Nott the Brave and for the first time things feel familiar.

“Just like old times,” Molly shouts over the monstrous eldritch roaring.

“THIS IS NOTHING LIKE OLD TIMES,” Nott screeches.

She fires again at the pinwheeling form of the dragon. It currently snapping its massive jaws, its enormous serpentine neck lashing back and forth at Yasha who, in the split second that it took her to move, rockets past and lumber-jack hacks her blade five feed deep into an armored shoulder. Molly feels the air shiver. There’s a flash. Then a boom that shakes the sea as a massive bolt of lightning strikes the blade like a rod, conducting holy blue fire directly into bone.

The dragon screams. Writhes in agony, electricity crackling all across its form, then in a frenzy it grabs Yasha with its one good hand. Claws her from its shoulder. Then it throws her straight through the water wall with such force Yasha hits it like concrete, the surface bursting a geyser of impact, before she vanishes deep into the horizontal sea.

“Bitch!” rumbles the dragon, spinning in the air to look down on the gunslinger and Mollymauk.

Even at nearly 100 feet away, Molly can see the vindictive gleam in its predator stare. Then the beast rears its head back, a sudden sluice of sea water spilling over from draconic jaws and Molly hears Nott whisper, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck –!”

Molly, not thinking very clearly at his point, just snarls “FUCK YOU!” with all the Infernal hate he can gather and feels a blood vessel tear open along his neck. The dragon’s yellow eyes immediately blacken and run with darkness just in time for Nott to yell, “DRAGONS CAN’T BE BLINDED, MOLLY!” and the beast unleashes a blast of tidal waters from its throat.

Time freezes for a spilt of a split of a second. Molly thinks – Shit, this is exactly like the last time I used a Blood Maledict.– and then the water that most certainly was meant to hit them head on like a crushing geyser… misses by about ten feet and the water slams into the wall of magical ocean to their left, bursting and frothing up against the arcane barrier and flooding the ground behind them in a massive arc up the Demali road. The water is freezing cold as it rushes back downhill, soaking Molly up to his knees and nearly knocking Nott from her footing.

The dragon is shrieking and clawing at its face. It hits the earth behind them on all fours, roaring, “WHERE ARE YOU?!” It thrashes its head, spitting water and screaming, “YOU MEWLING IMP! I’LL KILL YOU! I’ll KILL YOU!”

“I’ll be damned,” Nott hisses, then grabs Molly and starts hauling him fast back toward the shore. “Run, run, run! If it gets close, it will definitely see us! You lucky fucking bastard I can’t believe that worked!”

And they sprint like hell away.

“Where’s is Caduceus!?” Molly yells as they run.

“That godsdamned dragon attacked him while we were sleeping!” Nott, Molly notices, sounds like she’s in tears. “We had to stabilize him before coming after you. I don’t know if he’ll be able to help us!”

Behind them they can hear the monster still roaring and cursing Molly in a slew of Draconic and Common.

Then there’s a thunder clap. A flash of blue light ignites the air around them. Molly’s pulse skips and he spins just in time to see Yasha erupting from the sea wall like dark screaming meteorite and slam into the dragon’s ribs. She’s yelling. Her voice echoes down the road, blood-chilling and psychotic, as she impacts and drives her sword over and over and over into the dragon’s flank like an assassin with a dagger except it’s a longsword composed of black metal and lightning.

Suddenly the phrase, ‘I’ve killed dragons before’takes on more meaning as a singular solo action.

The dragon is screaming and rearing away from the hideous one-woman onslaught. Yasha gets in two more blows, goring a massive, gushing flap of muscle open under her blade before the great drake rears up, roaring, and bats Yasha off like a cat smacking a mouse. Yasha rockets to the ground, smashing into the it. Then, before she can move from the impact zone, the giant sea dragon darts forward…. and snaps its jaws down on her. Mollymauk’s world goes absolutely cold around him. The dragon rips its head back and forth like a Rottweiler with a hare, brutalizing and snarling, then it hurls Yasha’s broken form to the side of the road where it hits in a crumpled twist of necrotic wings and shredded armor.

There she lies still.

Molly is screaming before the deed is even done. “YASHA!”

Nott grabs his wrist top stop him the second he tries to run back.

“No! Wait, Molly! WAIT! She’s in a Battle Trance! She’ll be fine! Just –!”

“I don’t bloody believe you!” Molly cries.

Nott looks stricken for just a moment, then seems to accept that. She reloads. “Fine. Get behind me.” She kneels down in the road beside him and lines up another shot. “Yasha will get up. I promise.”

She fires twice and the both shots detonate across the dragon’s armored chest, one tearing more deeply into the wounds already inflicted by Yasha, blowing a fresh geyser of blood from the beast. But Molly isn’t looking at that. He’s looking at his friend who lies dead in the road, torn and broken, her skeletal wings bent like crushed origami in the mud, her arms limp and twisted around her. Molly registers despair as a rising ache inside him – new and different from all the dread and terror leading up until now.

“She’ll be okay,” Nott says again. “It’s okay, Molly. The cavalry is coming. I know it!”

Molly, confused, starts to say, “Who’s the caval–?”

And then Caduceus Clay materializes at Molly’s side.

Molly jumps. The cleric glances at him. His eyes are entirely composed of soft green light, burning like twin stares trapped in his skull. There is plant-life growing rapidly across his armor, moss and lichen spreading and flowering, thin ferns unfurling from chinks in the plate armor and spiraling up into his pale pink mane. He stops for just a moment to touch Mollymauk’s shoulder and Molly feels an infusion of warmth through him, a light sinking into his skin like sunshine into a flower. It inhabits him completely, like someone embracing every part of him at once and Molly can’t catch his breath.

“We’re not alone out here,” says Caduceus.  

Then he turns his attention to the dragon, points his staff directly at the ground… and the earth erupts.

A shunt of living wood the length and thickness of a ship’s mast slams up through the massive ribcage, spearing and driving through with such force, the creature leaves the ground and is hung momentarily impaled by a rapidly growing cedar tree. It’s branches and canopy expand with unnatural speed within the chest cavity of the creature, threatening to crack the bowed bone structures out like a fist opening inside a corn husk.

“NO!” The dragon is screaming, writhing, still alive somehow. Blood sprays from its mouth, from its perforated ribs but still it screams, “NO NO NO!”

It seizes hold of the great tree beneath it in one massive claw and with an unfathomable brute strength, it tears the entire trunk into two splintery pieces. Caduceus flinches, like he felt the blow and the dragon falls to earth on four gargantuan legs. Bleeding, still speared by the head of the tree, its branches lodged inside its chest cavity, bone gleams bare along its flanks. It’s missing one arm, drooling blood and sea foam. Psychotic, pain-feverish eyes turn on the three of them in the road and its gaze seems to punch through Molly’s soul.

“The Leviathan,” it gargles, laughing, “will have you all.”

Caduceus throws out his free hand, palm out, and pink light gathers in his fingers. He whispers something and the word pulses through the ground like a tremor and instantly thousands of vines spiral up from the mud, spraying sand, and lash themselves around the dragon’s limbs. But the bulk of the beast is too enormous and it pulls free of them, begins to advance up the road toward them.

“The Sea will swallow you whole!”

“I’m out of artillery!” Nott fires two shots directly into the dragon’s armored head, briefly knocking its skull aside before it rears back, snarling. “Clay!? Any other word from Melora?!”

“I can do something,” Molly whispers. “I think… I think I can try something.”

“No, Molly!” Nott sounds terrified. “It’s a fucking dragon! You won’t get lucky again!”

Caduceus surprised, stares at the tiefling besides him even as an ancient dragon thunders down on them. “You’re much braver than I imagined you.” His soft firbolg features kind of wrinkle. Even possessed by divine fire, it makes him strangely young as he murmurs, “I’m sorry for all of this.”

The dragon is howling, “UK’OTOA WILL CONSUME THE WORLD!”

And Molly grips the swords, feels them sing through his palms, and easy as muscle memory he leans his shoulder back into some previously untouchable membrane, suddenly tangible against his skin. He pushes through it, like you shoulder aside a veil, and side-steps through into another dimension. Time hits him like a heavy velvet curtain, smacking into and enveloping him… then it slides off like silk and he stands free and alone. The world around burns and blurs gray and white, the edges of everything fuzzy and static – Caduceus frozen in the attitude of looking down at him, Nott crouched there in the muddy road with her weapon.

Molly turns, arcane winds rushing silent around him.

He can see the dragon. Black in the strange hyper-contrast of the realm around him, moving in slow motion, one claw raised in mid-stride, the mud spraying up around its massive footfall as it begins to spring forward at the cleric and gun-slinger before it. The world is silent, utterly soundless around him. But there’s a vibration in his skull and that vibration leave a hum inside him and the hum is telling him to move, move, move.

So he moves.

He darts down the road. The water on the road separates under his boots, sprays in real-time as he touches it, then slows as he passes from contact until a thirty-foot trail of frozen sole-shaped footprints are left in the slowed waters behind him. And Molly is sprinting. Lungs burning, fast as he can, the scimitars blazing white in his fists as he reaches the dragon, still hung over him and moving so slow it may as well be holding still and he knows by instinct he has just moments. Just seconds to do this thing.

He’s directly next to the dragon’s left foreleg, like a black tree trunk beside him and sure as he knows how, Mollymauk swings both scimitars one after another directly into the ankle and the blades cleave through like a butcher’s knife through beef. Blood sprays, slows, hangs in the air and Molly spins and swings again just one more time and this time the blow slams clear through…

… and the world snaps back into color and time.

The dragon’s forearm cracks in half instantly as their full weight comes down on the limb and Molly dives right just in time to narrowly avoid being crushed. The dragon hits the ground skidding on its chest, both forelegs dismembered and dragging bloody beneath it. Molly hears shrieking. Thunderous roars as he stumbles up, running toward the water wall as the road behind him is suddenly full of thrashing, screaming dragon. Maimed and howling. Molly shoves himself back again the sea wall, the ocean soaking his shirt from behind. The magic slides up his back, shivering on skin, but all he sees is the dragon.

Its tail lashes wildly, slamming into the earth near him, whipping and slicing through the water over his head, soaking Molly where he huddles, heart hammering in his throat while the giant creature surges unstoppably through its death throes. Molly knows it’s dying. He knows because he can see where the branches of the tree have rammed up through the dragon’s back, fully penetrating the chest when the beast fell forward, driving the stake fatally deeper with its own momentum.

“Molly!” Nott is yelling from somewhere, but he can’t see her. “Molly where are you!?”

He stays frozen, pressed against the water. Anticipating the random blow that will kill him, knock him again into that black void where no memory survives. Again the tail lashes near him and he cries out, closing his eyes.  

“Molly?!”

“C’mon,” Molly whispers, to who he’s not sure, “C’mon. Give me a bloody break.”

He feels something slam into the ground nearby, the shards of rock spraying across his cheek. He hears the dragon choking, a horrible deafening sound like all the steam going out in a forge and the gargle of blood and sea water. He smells it. Smells the blood soaking his boots in the salt water. He’s past the adrenaline smooth rush where the chemical makes him instinct and on to the part where it leaves him shaking. He stands there, back against the sea, swords burning in his hand, just waiting stock still and whispering…

“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you bloody fucking…”

There’s silence. Silence.

Molly opens his eyes.

The dragon is dead. It’s laying there, still, a gleaming black and blue mountain of armor and bloody limbs. He can’t see its head from where he’s standing but the great dome of its flank is still – totally empty of breath. Molly stares. His heart hammers clean in his chest, keeps beating. And for a single, shining moment Molly’s just standing there with radiant fire in his fists, and there is something so fucking familiar, so goddamn innate about this that he knows it down to his veins that this body has stood over monsters before. Down to the blood in his veins he knowsthis…

… and then he feels the water displace at his back and before he can react, a soaking arm hooks around his waist and a hand cased in barnacles clamps over his windpipe... and Fjord says in his ear, “Don’t move.”

And pulls Molly back through a portal in the water.  

“CAN YOU NOT?!” Molly is yelling before he’s even through the portal. The dimensions tear around him, a warping of reality that blinds him instantly and for a moment Molly feels his brain lock, unable to comprehend the quantum ripping around him and with a sudden violent jolt through every cell in his body, it ends. He comes to a stumbling stop, staggering, boots hitting solid ground as he jerks free the warlock gripping him. He spins away, bringing the still blazing scimitars up between them. “Stop fucking dragging me around! All of you! Bloody back off for a breath!”

“Molly,” Fjord starts to say, holding up two hands, palms spread toward him. “Molly. Listen to me.”

“No! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Molly looks wildly around, finds himself standing in… some kind of limitless space, water up to the ankles of his boots. The liquid beneath him shimmers like an oil with dark shifting reflections, seething shapes mirrored in an iridescent infinity on all sides of him. A horizon-less dark extends forever in all directions and the only point of distance at all, is Fjord, standing in front of him. There is nothing but the watery dark, Molly, and Fjord who is begging him, softly:

“Please listen.”

“Stay away from me. Why did you bring me here?”

“I tried to warn you. Godsdammit, I tried. I have a minute here.”

Molly backs away, swords still up. “No. No bloody way. You don’t get to do this too. You don’t get to sweep in at the last second like a fucking –!” Molly sputters, panic and rage stealing all coherence for an instant. “What’s the matter with you? What happened? What did you do?”

“I made it too powerful, Molly. It came through the dimensions and it was gonna consume my home. I had to do something. I said it could have me if it would just stop.” Fjord laughs, but it’s a ragged exhausted sound. “How long has it been since it took me? Do you know, Mollymauk?”

“A… a few years I think.”

“Really?”

“The others tried to rescue you.”

“I know. Have you seen Jester?”

“No.” Molly swallows. “No one has.”

Fjord nods, his eyes drifting shut, like hearing it is a relief he’d been waiting on. “Good,” he murmurs. “Good, okay.” He opens his eyes again, manages this lopsided kind of grin, almost rueful. “It’s really good to see you, Molly. You know that? I just… I honestly can’t believe you’re really here.” The smile vanishes. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this is how we meet again.”

Molly hedges a moment. “We’re still friends, right, Fjord?”

“Yes. For what it’s worth.”

Molly feels bile bite the back of his throat. “How long do you have?” He’s shivering. “How long before your patron comes?”

“Only for a minute more. Molly, I’m sorry. You died ‘cause y’all trusted me to look out for you and I didn’t. I tried to do better after that. Thought I did. Saved the world and all that but now…”

Molly lowers his voice. “I’m glad my death was a such a learning experience for all of you.”

“I don’t mean it that way.”

“Fjord,” Molly whispers, “why did you bring me here?”

“I can’t bargain with him anymore. I don’t have anything left to give,” Fjord says. “He wants you.”

Molly’s guts clench like there’s a fist in them. “What does that mean?”

“Just don’t… don’t fight it, Molly.” Fjord’s eyes glow yellow. “I’m so sorry.”

Molly backs away, a red ache opening through him and the ache is dread, so familiar to him now it feels like he’s never been without it. “Fjord?” He gets no response, raises his voice, desperation in his throat like an Infernal reverb. “Fjord! Don’t—!”

Then thing that’s living in Fjord looks at him.

The gaze cuts through Mollymauk like a blow. It cleaves through his head like red iron through ice, tunneling a burning hole in his psyche and Molly screams because there is literally nothing else he can do. Every muscle in his body goes taut and he nearly bites his tongue in half as an immediate grand mal seizure tears through him, but he’s horribly somehow still on his feet, standing there while his body goes into a series of agonizing convulsions. He drops his weapons and they extinguish.

There’s nothing except the pain. The grind of his teeth, his every muscle cramping so tight it’s like they’ going to snap like violin wire across his skeleton. It hurts. His hands are locked at his sides, fingers curled into helpless claws as his spine bends backward, his eyes rolling in his skull until he can’t see anything. He’s just… stuck there. Somewhere between dying and not-dying and he can’t even fall down. He can’t scream or speak anymore. There’s just dark and heat and the muffled sound of his voice trapped in his throat.

He barely feels it when Fjord’s hand settles around his windpipe and at the back of his head.

“Gods I’m sorry,” Fjord says, his voice hollow with horror. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Don’t come back, Molly. He’ll keep doing this if you don’t. Just go.”

Fuck you, Molly thinks. Fuck you, I don’t know how this works, gods dammit–

Fjord snaps his neck.

go to part 7

[wyrdautumn]

Express

This is one of those stories that falls into a broad category of “what’s a little short self-contained thing I can write about a character I’ve had around for a while but haven’t gotten to do much with?” I’ve written about this character before, but I wanted to write something that got a little more into her personality and what her whole thing is.

I’ve got plans to write another little short featuring this character, getting into more of the big-picture lore around her, that’ll be going up as a Patreon exclusive by the end of the month. It’s only a $3 pledge to get those bonus stories, so keep an eye out for that!

Afonse didn't like the new mercenary. It wasn't that she always wore a bandana over her face, or that she didn't talk. Better quiet and hidden than open and loud, if you asked him. But any postman worth his salt knew you couldn't trust a mage, and this girl couldn't go five minutes without lighting up her arm, just to remind you she weren't normal.

The worst part was seeing the rest of the caravan embracing her, like she was their friend, like they thought you could trust the magic turncoat as far as you could throw her. Every time he told Boss to dump her off in town he just gave him some malarkey about about her skills. Never mind that it'd only take a little touch of magic to make any clumsy idiot look like a master swordsman. And Charlie and Helen were both spending nights in her tent, the ungrateful skanks.

They were still only halfway through their route the day Boss told him to leave camp with the merc and go fill up their canteens. He protested, like any sane man would, but Boss wouldn’t budge. “Watering hole's a mile away, Fons, and there's ferrix around,” he said. “We're gonna need you to help pack up once we catalog what we lost to the dust devil, so I don't care how bad you wanna die, you're taking her.”

That was that. Afonse left camp with the merc. Neither of them were happy. He knew she didn’t think much of him either. For a woman without a voice, she knew how to make herself heard when she wanted to.

Whatever. The last thing he wanted was her friendship.

It only took them fifteen minutes to reach the watering hole, a deep well that connected to a groundwater stream far beneath the arid soil. A land company dug it years ago as part of a quickly-abandoned development project. As far as Afonse figured it was a testament to why nobody should have been building in this forsaken hellscape to begin with. Even the nomads knew better than that. And here he was bumming through the badlands with a mage, barely making enough money to afford three square meals. Fucking society.

As soon as they reached the well she leaned herself against a post and started drawing something in the little book she always carried around. That’s what she always did when there was work to be done. She could have filled all the canteens herself with a snap of her fingers, but of course she was too good for that. She lit up her arm with a faint off-white glow just to spite him.

When he finally finished with the last canteen Afonse heard something rustling nearby. He capped the container and looked around cautiously. There were a few hardy, scraggly bushes, struggling by on what little water they could pull up from the ground and whatever travellers spilled onto the dirt. They were short thin things, not nearly big enough to hide anything dangerous. Certainly not big enough to hide the massive orange-furred many-mouthed creature stalking towards him on all fours.

Afonse turned and ran for his life, knocking over the canteens he had spent so much time filling.

The toothy, gnashing thing was bigger than him, and faster and stronger too. It beared down on him and knocked him off his feet. He scrambled away from it, barely avoiding its wicked bites, and looked up to the merc, howling at her to help him.

She looked up from her sketchbook and met his eyes. Without moving from her spot, she flipped the book around and held it up where he could see. Above a few rough, stylized sketches of a ferrix she had written two words, large and bold enough to read:

“Good luck.”

Dao wasn't going to let the ferrix eat his face off. He wasn't worth the hit to her rep. But she let him twist in the wind just a fraction of a second longer before she rose to her feet and turned to face the monster. A gust of warm desert air made the ends of her coat flutter around the sword at her waist, and she didn't care how much of a dweeb that made her, it was cool.

She blinked to the beast and drew her sword into its side.

Her blade cut true. She sunk it deep into the ferrix’s flesh and flung the monster away from the idiot.

The ferrix landed five feet away, bleeding badly from its wound. Before Dao could follow up it scrambled to its feet and bared its fangs at her. It puffed up its fur to make itself seem more intimidating and snarled aggressively, daring her to come for it.

Dao didn’t care. She stepped toward the monster, brandishing her sword, determined to put it all the way down.

She wasn’t afraid of the ferrix, but the ferrix was afraid of her. It hissed and growled and scrambled backwards, keeping its eyes locked on her.

There was enough distance between them now to be a problem. Dao kept a careful watch on the creature, holding her sword at the ready, weighing her options.

Grabbing the loser and running was a bad idea. Leaving a wounded ferrix alive was dangerous. It was scared of her, but before long it would be desperate and hungry enough to come back to the best meal it knew of. It wouldn’t have a hard time tracking them back to the caravan, either. And that was assuming the thing didn’t attract more ferrixes, or something even worse, dripping blood all over like it was. Best to make sure it was dead, and leave its body for the scavengers.

Blasting it wouldn’t be a sure kill. She couldn’t risk using up the rest of her magic on a miss. The only thing was to get in range and finish it before it could react.

She charged at the ferrix. It kept backing away from her. That wouldn’t help it. She blinked again straight into its face and jabbed her sword into its paw.

But the ferrix was smarter than she thought. It was ready for her. As soon as she struck her blow, the thing’s teeth were upon her, lunging towards her throat.

Dao threw herself back and tumbled to the ground. The ferrix was on her. She scrambled away from it, diving and rolling to avoid the sharp, thrashing claws that caught her coat and ripped up the ends. She didn’t have the stamina for this. Her limbs ached and stung in protest every time she flung herself into the dirt.

There was no room to use her sword. So she let it fall to the ground. The ferrix lunged again. She threw herself straight at it and clocked it in a jaw with her metal gauntlet.

The ferrix only flinched for a second. That was time enough. She grabbed it with her open, ungloved hand and sent all the magic she had coursing through its body.

It twitched and convulsed and was fried in a second. Dao let the creature fall to the ground. She took back her sword, struggled painfully to her feet, and put the blade through its throat, just to be sure.

She was slowing down. Darkness encroached the edge of her vision. Her entire body burned with exertion while her lungs flared and contracted desperately, trying to fill themselves with the air her crushed windpipe couldn’t provide. She ripped the bandana off her mouth instinctively. It didn't make a difference.

Almost a full year of this and she still hadn’t learned how to pace herself. Still wasn't going to. Restraint isn't exactly an option when a monster is trying to bite your head off. She shook her limbs out spitefully, willing them to move whether they liked it or not. Finally she felt the surge of Jehoram’s magic returning to her, and she used all of it immediately to fill her lungs with air and her blood with oxygen.

Now that she could move comfortably again it was time to get back to the job. The carrion birds were already circling, and they got nasty when you didn’t leave them to their work. She kicked the dead ferrix out of her way and went to grab the canteens and the traumatized jerk. He walked ahead of her on their way back to the camp, casting anxious glances back at her constantly, stumbling over his own feet trying to keep his distance. Dao carried the canteens herself, because he was just that useless.

Twenty minutes later they made it back to camp. The rest of the crew saw how much worse for wear they were and left their work to meet them. “Did you run into a ferrix?” Boss asked.

Dao nodded.

“Is it dead?”

She gave him a theatrical, sarcastic thumbs up. Of course it was dead. That’s what they paid her for.

“Good.” Boss looked past her to Afonse. “If you’d gone out there alone, you wouldn’t have come back. Aren’t you lucky you listened to me?”

“Lucky?” Afonse snapped. He stomped up to Boss and shoved him in the chest. “I’m not fuckin’ lucky, Boss. She was gonna let that thing kill me!”

Dao scrawled a message in her sketchbook and turned it to show him: “And yet I didn't.”

Afonse glared at her and fumed.

“All right, son, you’d best cool your head.” Boss put a hand on Afonse’s shoulder and stared him down firmly. “Monster’s dead, you’re not. Ain’t much more you can ask for than that.”

“I can ask her to do her job!” Afonse pointed at Dao accusatorily. She rolled her eyes at him. “That monster attacked me and she, just, pulled out her little book and wrote ‘good luck’ in it!”

Boss looked over at Dao, who waved her hand dismissively. “Did you do that? No, nevermind, of course you did.”

Dao just shrugged.

Helen and Charlie both snickered while Boss sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. Afonse shot a dirty look in their direction. “Y’know, Fons,” Helen said, “this job’ll be easier if you don’t keep trying to make enemies with the people you gotta bunk with for weeks on end.”

“Why don’t you two get back to work?” Boss interjected. “I’ll handle this situation, thank you.”

“Right. We’ll get on it, Boss.” Charlie put his thick broad hand on Helen’s shoulder and pulled her away before she could start an argument.

Once they left Boss turned back to Afonse. “Look, I know you’re not happy, but she still saved your ass, whatever she might have written. Maybe if you learned to be a little nicer she wouldn’t feel like she had to mess with you like that.”

“Nicer?” Afonse scowled at Dao. “You’re not payin’ me enough to be nice to a fuckin’ mage, Boss.”

“If that’s the way you feel I don’t need to be paying you at all.” Afonse turned to Boss in disbelief. “You think you got job security cuz the head office won't approve any other hires, but if you can't get your head out of your ass, I'd rather be traveling with a stunt crew.”

That finally got him to shut up. He shoved his hand into his pockets and quietly seethed until Boss sent him away.

Now that Boss had Dao to himself he sighed and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “Why do you have to antagonize him?”

Dao cocked an eyebrow. Did he really need to ask that?

“You know how much harder it is for me when I have to be mad at both of you, right?”

Being mad at both of them was his own choice, Dao thought. She did her job. If Boss wanted more than that he should have made it part of their agreement. She stared at him blankly and blinked.

“Just don’t pull any more stunts like that, okay? He’s an asshole, but he’s part of the crew. I still gotta watch out for him.” Boss didn’t wait for a response. He walked past Dao towards camp, but he stopped for just a second and looked over his shoulder at her. “Thanks for not letting him die.”

Dao stood impassively and watched him go. The sun was starting to go down, and the air was beginning to chill. She grabbed a few blocks of wood to start a fire and brought them in to the middle of the camp.

Once everyone else finished repacking the deliveries, they gathered around the fire for dinner. Dao took a seat next to Helen, who was eager to see the day’s sketches. She laughed at the “good luck” page.

Afonse glared at them angrily across the fire, until Dao glanced up and met his eyes. He looked away immediately and spent the rest of the night being ineffectually grumpy.

What a pain in the ass. There was no fixing a man like that. All he wanted was to feel right and just in his ignorance, and nothing you did was going to change his mind. Getting chewed out would only make him resent her more.

But that wasn’t her problem. He wasn’t going to do anything except stew in his own petulant rage. A coward won't try anything if he knows you can kick his ass. And he knew that just fine.

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

@griminal-rising @deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr  @tales-around-sornieth (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

dragons are humanoid unless said otherwise

like my writing? Consider buying me a coffee

The continued saga of ‘local swamp man keeps fucking up while lady in his life watches on with growing worry’ which is BASICALLY my clan at this point cause all my dudes are stupid as fuck. Dilarus might be up there with Reza in the stupid man category like god damn

A New Face

This island was unknown to Sobek other than he'd been told by Vrej numerous times not to go there. He went there anyway because the dragons in there could help him. The thought felt sour in his mind that he'd stoop so low to seek the aid of dragons. He already knew his kin would hiss and scorn him for what he was going to do but he didn't care. It was important to him. He didn't want to see Vrej look at him like she had when he'd confessed to her. Sad, pitying, and regretful.

The opening of the Warren yawned open, plunging deep into the earth. A soft, cool, breeze filtered out of the cavernous opening and made some if the hair around his face shift. He couldn't see very far, only as far as the first bend in the tunnels. His tail tip twitched nervously before he went down into the depths.

It grew dark faster than he expected and Sobek was plunged into darkness. At least for a moment. He raised a hand and fire came up and licked across his fingers and claws. The flame was only that of a candle but it was more than enough to see by. The tunnel was dug by something other than dragon claws but he wasn't quite sure what and thought it better not to wonder too deeply. He probably didn't want to know if it made tunnels large enough for Imperials to walk through with space both above and on either side.

He had no idea where he was going. He just slithered along the ground following the left wall. It took him some time but eventually he came to part of the tunnels with doors in the side. Metal things bolted into the earth with straps across it. What on earth did they keep inside that they needed metal doors. It didn't occur to Sobek that the doors might be used to keep something out as well.

He held his breath when one of the doors open and a humi shaped imperial stepped out. They were very tall and fit with their blonde hair up in a messy bun at the top of their head. Sobek didn't move as if doing so would make him not see a serthis in their lair. The imperial looked up and down the tunnel briefly and then at him. Faster than he expected the imperial jumped him and shoved him hard against the soft wall. “And now what is a thing like you doing in the Warren? You're a long way from the Serpent Fangs,” he said, his green eyes starting to glow. He used his wings to further corner Sobek against the wall, his hands gripping Sobek’ wrists so hard he lost control of the fire on his hand and they were plunged into darkness.

“Pleassse, I'm not tribal,” he stammered, half hissing it. “Friend of Vrej.”

The glowing eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? Beastclan aren’t welcome in the Warren.”

“Ssseek help.”

“With what?”

“Dra-gonsss good withs magic. Better than ssserthis.”

“This is true. You want magical help? With what?”

He was glad it was dark. Sobek felt his face heat up in embarrassment and not a little humiliation for what he was going to say. “Want to not be beassstclan.”

The eyes unnarowed. “What’s your name?”

He focused on not letting his accent get in the way of his name. Vrej always said he said his name so cute with his hissing and he knew that wouldn’t be good here. “Sobek,” he didn’t hiss out the end only by biting his own tongue.

“You want to get rid of that tail of yours, is that it?”

“Yesss.”

He leaned back away from Sobek a bit, looking down at him with cool eyes. Then he let go of one of Sobek’ wrists and snapped his fingers. Several lamps up and down the tunnel immediately turned on, bathing them in a soft amber light. “Who were you looking for here?”

“Hear thingsss when dra-gonsss visssit Vrej for healing. They sssay Ssavathhhün is a powerful witch.”

“She hates beastclan. You’re lucky I found you first or she’d have her mate gobble you right up.” Sobek gulped. “I think something out. Do you really wanna be humi?” Sobek nodded. “Why?” Sobek didn’t answer. They squeezed the wrist they were still holding and Sobek felt his bones grind, making him grimace in pain. “Why?” he said again.

If he said the pain would stop. “Love Vrej,” he blurted out.

He was surprised by the Imperials honest surprise and then almost sympathy. “Heh. Ladies make you do stupid things, I get that. Come with me,” he dragged Sobek back to the door he’d come out of. Sobek was shoved inside. “Stay here, don’t wander. I’ll be back.”

“Where?” Sobek asked.

“Just wait,” he said and before Sobek could stop him he closed the metal door and he heard it lock. He tried the door but while the handle worked it was barred from the outside by the straps he’d seen.

Furious he looked around and found he was in what looked like this Imperial’s living quarters. It was one large room sectioned off by folding screens with a big bed in the corner. Sobek slithered over to the rug and curled up on it. He didn’t want to touch anything or get into any trouble and he knew better than to get nosy with a dragon’s things. Even Vrej, for all that she allowed Sobek and the rest free reign over her home there were certain places and things that if they touched she’d get very angry and scold you or drag you away from where you weren’t supposed to be. The Imperial was bigger and stronger than Vrej. He didn’t want to make a mistake.

He waited a while. He wasn’t sure how long. Then he heard the door unlock and he turned and looked as the door opened. The blonde humi Imperial stepped through the door and held it open for a woman with deep red hair. He sunk down a bit in his coils defensively. “Sobek, this is the witch Astra, she’s going to help you.” He eyed the two of them distrustfully.

“I’ve not heard of you,” Sobek said as she walked over to him. He could tell by her wings and the big gem in the middle of her forehead that she was a Skydancer and that didn’t put him at ease.

“Good,” Astra said. The Imperial stood to the side, arms folded, watching to make sure Sobek didn’t do anything. “I think we can help each other, Sobek.”

“How’sss thhhat?”

“I need someone dead-

“No.”

She giggled, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to kill them. I want them weak. I know there are several serthis in Vrej’s colony who specialize in synthesizing antivemon for various serthis types. And that’s great, just great but I have no use for antivenom. I will do the ritual with you to change you into a humi, teach you to walk even, in return, I want you to make me a poison that will weaken but not kill someone until the time comes that they are to die. Is that something you can do?”

Sobek was wary of this Astra. “What if I sssay no?”

“Well I’ll throw you out and you can wander the Warren and hope you find Savathün in an agreeable mood. I’m sure my brother has told you she isn’t the biggest fan of beastclan, hmm?” she asked and brushed some of her long hair out of her face. He nodded. “But know that she isn’t the only thing in the Warren you have to be worried about. Do we have a deal?”

Sobek was hesitant. Astra standing above him, looking down onto him, made him nervous. But he’d come here looking for help and knew more than any dragons just didn’t do something for free unless it benefitted them. If he wanted her help he’d have to pay. And all he had to do was make a poison. He was capable of doing that. All serthis knew how to make poison from their venom or the venom of their kin to apply to arrow or blades or claws. He could make a poison to weaken. “I will do it,” he nodded.

“Excellent,” and she clapped her hands together, delighted. “You can stay here and Aten and I will prepare the ritual. It will take some time but we should be able to start it today.”

“Very well.”

“Aten will retrieve you when the times comes, now behave,” she said nicely with a smile. He nodded a little and the siblings left the room.

Once they were gone Sobek realized his heart was pounding and he was glad they were gone. Then he realized he was once more alone in a dragon’s abode. He hunkered down in his coils and just tried to be small. As time passed he got bored and started humming to himself. A long time passed and he ended up dozing curled up in his coils to protect the more fragile part of his upper body. He roused himself when the door opened and the same blonde Imperial came in.

“It’s time, get up,” Aten said gruffly.

Sobek yawned but did get up and only sort of raised himself up as he slithered over to Aten. Aten motioned for him to leave the room and he waited in the hallway outside while Aten locked his door. “Why do you have metal doorsss?” he asked. “You are dra-gonsss, what could hurt you?”

Aten gave him a look. “Plenty, especially in the Warren,” and that was all he said. Sobek was too intimidated to ask more questions.

They walked down the tunnel to another tunnel and that led deep into the earth where it was cold and the only light came from an orb Aten carried in his hand that glowed with low lamp light. Finally they came to another metal door Aten decided was the one they needed and he opened it. It was low light inside but he could see what looked like a bed in the corner of the room and an altar. Sobek was nervous as Aten locked the door behind them and walked over to Astra who was sitting on a stool reading a tome was thick as Sobek’ fist. She pushed her hair out of her face which was pensive in concentration. She looked up when Aten approached and smiled at him then her bright, pale, green eyes looked behind him and saw Sobek.

“No need to be afraid, Sobek,” and she beckoned to him with a finger. Sobek slowly slithered over to her. “This is where I’ll perform the ritual. If you were a dragon you could just do it but most need help the first time, thus the ritual. I’ve prepared everything. I’m sure you want to get this over with so you can go show Vrej.” Sobek flushed a little but Astra just kept talking. “So we’ll begin now. Remove your clothes.”

“W-what?” he stammered. The idea of being so vulnerable around these strangers was not a pleasant one.

“You’re going to grow and change and it could destroy then. You need to remove them or risk losing them and you’ll never be as large as Aten or me so unless you want to learn to walk in a sack you have to get rid of them,” Astra said.

Sobek frowned but looked down and started undoing the ties that held his clothes to his frame. They tied up the sides and attached to an apron that wrapped around where his flesh met scales. There was also a fair amount of straps and several jarred talismans that were tucked under his clothes. His first set of teeth. The eye of his first kill from a tribal merging. A lock of Vrej’s hair woven into a circular braid. Last was his hair tie, an ornate ribbon Vrej had made for him. She made all the serthis who were part of her colony a hair tie to welcome them to her colony so they were knew they were welcome, wanted, and safe under her eye. He hated leaving it with his tunic and bracelets and the rest of his clothes but he did so he was just there, naked, in front of the two humi shaped dragons.

Astra uncrossed her legs and got to her feet elegantly. “This part of you will mostly stay the same,” she said indicating the upper fleshy part of him. “But the rest will change, dramatically. Come over here,” she motioned to the altar. He followed her and as she went to stand in front of it she pulled her hair back and away from her face and with a complex hand motion it braided itself. Sobek’s eyes widened. He’d never seen magic used like that. Most magic was practical, or in Vrej’s case to heal. He’d never seen such a casual display of magic to just braid hair. “Be here,” she pointed to right in front of her and he slithered over.

The ritual was strange. She smeared ochre on his face and throat and used a paste to paint sigils across his chest. Then she made him sit in the middle of a circle of the same paste and ochre. He blinked in surprise as a great wind kicked up to the motion of her arms and he was blasted with magic. Invisible signs that had been painted into the floor flared into life and blazed with such a blinding light Sobek had to look away and close his eyes. Then the light dimmed.

“Alright, all done,” she said.

Sobek looked down at himself. “It didn’t work,” he accused her. “I’m ssstill ssserthisss.”

To the side Aten gave a cough of a laugh. “Do you even know what goes into a dragon’s transformation?” Astra asked him with a sly smile.

“No?”

“It isn’t instant. It takes times. Hours, days even. If Aten wants to look how he was born it takes him three days because he has to become so large. For you it will be less,” she approached him and wiped the ochre off his face with a damp rag and gave it to him to clear up his chest. While he did she went back to the altar and brought back a glass of slightly yellow, completely opaque, liquid. “Drink.”

“What isss it?” he asked.

“It will make you sleep until I give you something to make you wake.”

“That ssseemsss dangerousss.”

“Or you can go through the pain of the change without it. Makes no difference to me.”

She pulled the drink away but Sobek grabbed it. He didn’t want to be in pain. Vrej never mentioned that changing shape was painful. He took a sip and it tasted as bitter as he expected it to taste. Astra laughed when his face twisted in disgust. With a grimace he chugged the entire thing, able to open his throat and not taste it. “Now what?” he asked, holding the cup anxiously.

Astra just beckoned and led him over to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable. The potion will take effect shortly and you don’t want to be caught unaware.”

Cautiously Sobek crawled into the nest of a bed. He was very aware of Astra and Aten watching him and it made him nervous. He stared at the both of them wondering if they’d say anything to him but Astra just stood there, watching him. He started to feel a horrible pain in his pelvis when he blacked out.

—

Vrej was with the triplets weeding one of her herb gardens. They always asked why she just didn’t use her magic to do it and Vrej always gave the same answer. Sometimes work was worth doing hard and magic could cheapen the connection you felt to hard work. The garter serthis didn’t always agree but they didn’t question her too much. To those without magic it was an instant fix to a problem. Vrej knew it could be but sometimes just doing things with your hands was good too.

“Vrej,” she glanced up. One of the guards was on the other side of the wire fence. Guard was a loose term. Mostly they made sure the rest of the Hall didn’t bother her colony too much and kept the toridaes away. Or that had been Sobek’ job. She hadn’t seen him in days and it worried her. She knew she’d broken his heart but she thought he was stronger than to mope around for days or just leave without saying anything. Vrej knew serthis were too proud to always take responsibilities for things they might have made a mistake about so it wasn’t out of character she guessed.

“Yes, Hari?” she asked, wiping her brow and getting a bit of dirt across her sweaty face.

“You need to sseeees thisss,” he said.

“What? Something bad?” she asked even as she pushed off her knees.

“I don’t know,” he said nervously.

“Hmm.” She grabbed the bag from a post where she hung her pearl when out in the garden and followed Hari out of the garden to the front of her home. Several serthis were gathered around looking at something and looking at it curiously. “What’s going on here, hmm?” she asked and the serthis all looked back at her, almost guiltily to having been caught out like this. They moved aside so she could walk forward and see what they were looking at.

There was a humi sitting on the steps of her porch. But a humi like she’d never seen. They had no wings, no horns, no frills or tail. Their feet were the same and slightly digitigrade but there was no distinguishing features about them. They looked almost like one her serthis only with legs. She stared at them in confusion with their shaded red hair and blood red eyes that stared back at her, almost like they were afraid. It took her an uncomfortable amount of time to realize what she was looking at. “Sobek?” she asked. He nodded but was too nervous to talk. “Well… hmm— come inside. The rest of you should probably go back to what you were doing,” she added and climbed the stairs of her porch. As she did she grabbed Sobek’ hand and helped him up. “Stop being so nosy and making him uncomfortable. Really,” she scolded them and the other serthis quickly dispersed.

Vrej led Sobek inside and closed the door. He walked just fine and she wasn’t used to seeing a humi without a swaying tail or mindful of their wings so they didn’t accidentally bang them on a threshold or something. He turned to her and said nothing, just licked his lips nervously and had his hands in the pockets of his pants. Thank the Plaguebringer he was wearing pants.

“Sobek, what’s this?” she asked him. She had a feeling she knew but she wanted him to tell her. Sobek seemed too nervous to say anything. She sighed a little. “Did you do this because of what I said?”

“Yes,” he said.

She looked away with a deeper sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “This wasn’t I expected you to do,” she admitted. “How? You can do minor magic but transformations?”

“Someone helped me.” She realized that he didn’t have a hissing accent now. He didn’t hold his Ss and Ts longer or work his mouth around round sounds. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“Who?” she pressed.

“One of the witches in the Warren-

“You went to a Stitcher?” Vrej demanded, eyes flaring. Sobek shrunk away from her some. “Sobek that was dangerous and stupid and totally irresponsible! The colony relies on you, I rely on you. What if they’d hurt you? What if they’d killed you?” her anger was bred from worry.

“I had to try,” he said softly. “For you.”

“You didn’t do this for me. You did it for yourself,” Vrej snapped.

“Vrej-

“I know you were upset but to do this?” she motioned to his humi body but it still looked wrong and strange to her eyes. No tail, no wings, no defining features other than normal serthis pointed ears and his long red hair. And he’d gone to the Warren and knew he’d made some sort of deal with one of the Stitchers. She was so disappointed in him. “I didn’t want this for you.”

“You’re right. I did it for myself. So you don’t look at me and see me as lesser.”

“Sobek, I’ve never seen you as lesser,” she said softly.

“But you wouldn’t give me a chance because I was serthis. Well now I’m not,” he looked down at himself, taking his hands out of pockets and used them to indicate his new form. “I’m not anything. I am just Sobek.” He stepped over to her and grabbed one of her hands. “I’m just me and I love you and I did this because I thought you’d like me better this way,” he said, eyes wide. He brushed some of her hair back and behind her ear.

She stepped back taking her hand from his. “You have these ideas of what I want, Sobek,” she said. “And your heart is in the right place I guess but I didn’t tell you to do this. I didn’t ask you to do this. I still don’t love you. I like you just fine, you’re a good protector of the Fangs but this… you went to the Stitchers. They’re about as close to evil as I can imagine, especially that Savathün and Oryx. I warn everyone not to go there for a reason, because it’s dangerous and I worry about you all. But this… this is a betrayal. And now you’re like this,” she looked him up and down. “I have no room in my heart for someone who’d do something so reckless and put themselves in so much danger to go to the Warren. Before, maybe, but now?” she frowned and he looked just as heart broken as the last time they’d spoken. “I don’t know if I can trust you now. The Stitchers deal in trades and favors. I don’t know what they wanted from you but it probably isn’t good,” he looked down at his feet meaning she was right.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just… Please don’t hate me.’

“I don’t hate you, Sobek but I don’t trust you.”

“Can I fix it?” he asked, his eyes pleading and if she knew him less she thought he might start crying. But Sobek was too hard and stoic to cry in front of anyone, if he even cried at all.

“You can try,” she said.

He sighed. “Alright,” he said softly. “Alright,” he said to himself again bobbing his head in a sort of nod. “Well I’m just… gonna go then,” his voice was thick.

“Alright,” she said gently. “The Fangs is still your home. You don’t have to leave it.”

“I know,” he said, looking at the wooden floor. “I’ll see you later,” and he left.

When he was gone Vrej fell into her chair and covered her face with both hands. She knew Sobek wouldn’t cry because he’d done something reckless that had changed his life and their relationship in a not so great way so she did it for him.

[riluu]

Title: Under The Full Moon

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Ao3 Link: Here!

Summary: A childhood trauma becomes the beginning of a remarkable friendship at the boundary of sea and shore- and that friendship turns into the beginning of something else entirely. (Written for @sharpdressedchef for @ignoctsecretsanta - I hope this is what you were looking for!)

The water was freezing.

It was like a massive fist closing around Noctis’ small body, the icy grip clenching down until he felt like it would crush him. He felt as if he’d fallen into a pit of blades, the cold cutting at him, and he gasped, dragging those blades down his throat and into space meant only for air.

He spasmed in agony, kicked, fought, but the seven year old could no longer even figure out which way was up. It was all dark, moonlight barely reaching beneath the waves, and Noctis’ vision went grey at the edges as his head pounded with lack of oxygen.

And then, a hand grabbed his.

Just before the world went dark around him, he saw green eyes that seemed to glow with moonlight, pale skin, and a flash of dark green scales. His last thought before the darkness closed in on him was mermaid.

Of course, no one believed him. He was a seven-year-old child who’d been through a traumatic experience, falling off his father’s boat during an evening fishing trip. Noctis could hear the disbelief and condescension in their words, see the amusement in their eyes every time he’d said that he hadn’t managed to swim back to the surface. That something- someone- had helped him.

But Noctis knew it wasn’t his imagination. It wasn’t the trauma. So as soon as he had recovered, he waited for the next full moon, and he climbed down to the seashore.

The beach along the water here was no beach at all, but mostly large rocks. The whole east side of the citadel was bordered by this inhospitable, rocky shore, leaving no need for guards or stone walls, especially in times of peace such as this. So Noctis was alone, having snuck out of the citadel, the light of the moon his only guide as he scrambled among the boulders.

He got as close as he could to the water, shivering in the chill and trying not to slip on the smooth surface beneath his shoes. The water was calm tonight, like darkened glass stretching out beyond the horizon, broken only by the reflection of the moon and stars.

“I know you’re out there!” he called out, watching the water for any sign of life beneath the surface. Only the rhythmic hush of the waves against the shore replied, and Noctis frowned and sat down on the edge of the rock, prying off his shoes and setting them to the side.

He kicked at the water in a way that would have gotten him scolded for scaring the fish away. “Don’t make me come back in there to find you!” he threatened, because that always seemed to work for the adults. Which meant it should work here, too.

And after a few long moments of silence, he saw something ripple the water.

It was so quick and subtle that he thought maybe it had been his imagination. But he didn’t want to think that his mind had made all this up; the adults said it was ‘oxygen deprivation’ and other fancy things like that. It wasn’t. He knew what he saw that night.

So he shifted on the rock to lie on his stomach, and he reached down and plunged a hand into the cold water, holding it out in invitation. He waited there until his fingers started to go numb, and just when he was about to pull his hand back-

-a warm hand closed around his. A hand that felt just like his own, human, except not quite. He felt the pinprick of sharp claws on each finger, and there was something between the fingers, too-

A head broke the water next, and Noctis found himself looking at those pale green eyes again, just barely glowing in the moonlight. Were it not for that, or the fact that the boy had flared fins where he should have ears, Noctis would have thought him human. He couldn’t have been more than a couple of years older than Noctis, his skin was pale, his hair tawny and falling damp across his forehead, and he looked…nervous.

“You’re real!” Noctis said, and his face broke into a wide grin; the other boy looked surprised, but then he seemed to relax.

“Of course I am,” he said, and Noctis wrinkled his nose.

“You talk funny. Do all mermaids talk like that?”

“I’m not a mermaid. Girls are mermaids. And I do not talk funny,” the boy said, and only then did he seem to realize they were still holding hands. He started to pull away, but Noctis didn’t let go, instead tugging his hand in for a closer look.

He’d been right- the merman’s fingers were tipped with sharp claws that matched the green of his scales. Between his fingers was a sort of scaled webbing, like the kind frogs had between their toes. His hand was warm, though, in contrast to the chilly water.

“This is so cool. Now everyone will know I wasn’t lying!” he said, only to have the merman yank his hand away in what seemed to be sheer terror.

“Don’t!” he snapped, and Noctis winced, the smile disappearing.

“What? Why not?”

“Because you’re not supposed to know about us. None of you,” the boy replied, glancing up at the citadel warily. “I’m breaking our laws, letting you see me like this. I broke them when I saved you.”

Noctis wanted to protest. He wanted to know why it wasn’t allowed, what the merpeople were so afraid of- but at the same time, his new friend looked like a trapped animal about to bolt.

Noctis had so few friends, he didn’t want to lose this one when he’d just found him.

“I won’t tell. Cross my heart.”

“Cross your heart…?”

“It means I promise,” Noctis said with a laugh, and he sat up to dangle his bare feet in the water. “I’m Noctis.”

The lighter haired boy seemed to hesitate for a few moments, looking back at the sea one more time before he turned his attention back to Noctis. He braced his hands on the rock, and with one strong push, he’d managed to seat himself on the rock next to the prince, his tail fin dangling in the water next to the human’s feet.

“My name is Ignis,” he said with a shy smile- and this close up, Noctis could see the distinct shape of fangs where humans would normally have just slightly pointed teeth.

A high-pitched noise suddenly shattered the silence, like a bird calling out at dawn, and Ignis snapped to attention. He made the same call out toward the ocean, and then looked to Noctis with regret.

“I have to go. They’ve noticed I’m gone,” he said, and he slid off the rock and back into the water. Noctis reached down and took hold of Ignis’ arm before he could dive beneath the waves.

“I wanna see you again!” he said, blue eyes pleading. “Please? Next full moon, right here?”

“Next full moon,” Ignis agreed, and he smiled again. “Cross my heart.”

He disappeared into the dark water, and Noctis scrambled to his feet- he needed to sneak back in before he was seen, too.

* ~~~~~ *

True to his word, Ignis was there waiting when next the moon shined its brightest.

“Your name means fire,” Noctis said as he sat down on the end of the rock, and Ignis once again hauled himself out of the water and gave Noctis an amused look.

“That it does.”

“That’s silly.”

Ignis outright laughed at that. “Why is it silly?”

“You live in the water,” Noctis complained as he kicked at said water with his toes. “Why did your parents name you something that means fire when you live in the water?”

“Because we have our own fire,” Ignis said, and he held out his hand- and blue flames flickered to life, dancing along his fingers, reflecting off his scales. It was a strikingly similar blue to Noctis’ eyes, the human noticed, and he reached out only to find that the flames were cool to the touch.

For the rest of the night, Ignis showed Noctis all of the magic he knew, and the kinds he was still learning. Told him about how they used magic to protect themselves, to hunt, and to create undersea artwork.

It wasn’t until almost a year later- after meeting for every full moon between- when Noctis finally told Ignis who he actually was.

“I’m a prince,” he muttered, not the same way a child would normally announce the fact that they’re royalty. “My dad is the king, so he’s always busy. And they’re gonna expect me to do all kinds of royal stuff and then become king and I just don’t wanna.”

Ignis burst out laughing, and Noctis looked up with a pout. “What’s so funny?” he demanded, and Ignis smiled at him.

“I’m a prince too. I can safely say I know exactly what you mean.”

* ~~~~~ *

As expected, there were times when one prince or the other couldn’t make it to the shore on the full moon. It wasn’t cause for worry; and inevitably, a new tradition grew. Every time one or the other missed their seaside meeting, they would bring a gift to the next.

Ignis would bring jewelry made of shells, starfish, anything interesting from beneath the waves, items that Noctis kept hidden away in his room and cherished. Noctis would bring jewelry, books to read together, anything he could find that they could enjoy or that wouldn’t be destroyed by the waves.

One year, he gave Ignis his favorite necklace; a small skull pendant on a delicate chain. And though Ignis couldn’t usually wear or show off the things given to him, he wore that one from then on, evidently using the excuse to other merfolk that it had been dropped off a ship and he liked it.

Being a teenager, Noctis wasn’t entirely sure why it satisfied him so much to see his necklace on that pale skin.

But they were both getting older, growing out of their awkwardness. Noctis was a handsome young man by any account, and Ignis had become stunning, growing into his fins all too well. The color of his scales deepened, and any new scars from hunting were things for Noctis to fret over.

Their nightly visits on each full moon lasted longer, often until there were mere hours before one or both would have to wake for their day, and yet neither complained. Neither minded the sleep deprivation when remembering the conversations under moon and stars, the stories shared, the little things they would bring by to show off.

Neither could imagine his life without the other, despite it being their greatest secret.

* ~~~~~ *

Four months shy of his 21st birthday was when things changed.

He’d been pining before then. Ever since he was eighteen or so, he’d realized that his feelings for Ignis went beyond friendship. He didn’t dare say anything; after all, it would only hurt worse, no matter what the response was. Either Ignis didn’t feel the same, which was probably the case, or if he did…

Well. Noctis was human, and Ignis was not. Unless he flooded the halls of the citadel with salt water, there was obviously a big physical barrier there.

Ignis showed up later than usual to their meeting, and when he did arrive, Noctis could tell something was wrong from the way the merman winced when he hauled himself out of the water and up onto the rock beside Noctis. Noctis immediately noticed the dark bruising along his gills on one side- normally the gills along Ignis’ ribs were quite well protected, but if they took a blow, it would hurt worse than any other place on the merman’s body.

Noctis had learned a lot about merfolk, spending time with Ignis.

“You’re hurt,” he said, immediately scooting in closer. Ignis chuckled softly, though he was obviously winded from the swim there and the effort of pulling himself out of the water.

“It’s just bruising. I’ll be fine.”

“Can you breathe alright in the water?”

“Yes, yes. It wasn’t a direct blow. Merely a dolphin that got a bit out of hand.”

“Fuck dolphins,” Noctis muttered, and Ignis laughed and shook his head.

“If I weren’t already well versed in your vernacular, I would be concerned that you truly wished to fornicate with a dolphin,” he pointed out, but Noctis was already reaching in, carefully touching the edge of the bruises with a feather light touch.

“You should be more careful,” he said, and he looked up only to realize just how close they were. Nearly nose to nose. His breath caught, his gaze flickered down to those lips, and his hand dropped to where skin became scales.

He wasn’t sure which one of them closed the distance first. It didn’t really matter. They were kissing, and Ignis tasted like saltwater and moonlight and everything Noctis had wondered about. Even the sharp edge of fangs couldn’t keep him from deepening the kiss, and when they parted, Ignis looked dazed.

“Noctis…” he said, and Noctis frowned and looked down, unwilling to move from where he sat.

“I know,” he muttered miserably. “I know, we’re different species, we’re both princes- I know we shouldn’t-“

Ignis sighed and cupped Noctis’ face with one hand, coaxing him to look up again. “All I wanted to say is that if we had a choice, I would choose you, Noct.”

Noctis kissed him again, desperately, and tried not to think that some of that salty taste in the kiss was from his own tears this time.

They didn’t have that choice. They never would.

* ~~~~~ *

Ignis didn’t show up the full moon after that. Or the next.

By the third full moon missed, Noctis was distraught. Something had to have happened; Ignis wouldn’t just stop showing up. He wouldn’t.

Noctis stood on the rocky shore and called out for Ignis until his throat gave out. He didn’t get out of bed the whole next day, exhausted and worried sick, barely managing a raw ‘thank you’ when his father brought him tea out of worry.

He asked what was wrong, but Noctis couldn’t tell him, of course. What would he say? I’ve been sneaking out to see a merman every month for almost fourteen years, we fell in love, and now he disappeared?

For all he knew, Ignis’ council had found out what their prince had been doing every full moon. Ignis might be dead, and Noctis would have no way of knowing.

The last thing he wanted to do was go to his coming of age ball, but he had no excuse not to go. He would have to spend all evening forcing a smile, pretending to care when some noble or other presented their ‘beautiful, ambitious daughter’. He would have to dance with people who were supposed to be suitors for him.

And all the while, the one person in the world that he wanted was the only person he couldn’t have.

Getting dressed in the royal raiment felt like getting ready for his own funeral. He looked the part of a perfect prince in black and gold, though he felt only dread as he made his way to the ballroom and into the crowd that had already gathered.

He struggled his way through the first hour, saying the right things, being unfailingly polite- but only polite. And he could see that more than one suitor or parent was rather upset that he didn’t seem smitten by the offerings.

But every time he looked at someone, all he could think of were pale green eyes, glowing softly under a full moon.

At least Gladio and Prompto seemed to understand, even if they didn’t know why he was so despondent. They frequently bailed him out when someone got too chatty or too pushy, and Prompto made sure he didn’t manage to get himself drunk on the champagne, which he was sorely tempted to do. Noctis could tell that even his father was keeping a careful eye on him.

When the party was almost half over, Prompto elbowed Noctis so hard he almost spilled his champagne. “Dude,” the blonde said, his voice hushed. “Who’s that guy?”

Noctis followed Prompto’s gaze, and his heart stopped.

It couldn’t be.

The man in question was tall, with dark blonde hair styled up and out of his face save for a few strands, and wearing a dark formal outfit with a high, open collar and gold detailing. And when he looked up from the conversation he was having, pale green eyes met Noctis’ blue.

Noctis shoved his drink at Prompto without even thinking about it, already pushing his way rather rudely past a couple of chatting nobles, his heart beating somewhere in his throat. The blonde met him halfway, and Noctis forced himself to stop, to not tackle the man in a hug right there in the middle of the ballroom.

“Iggy? Is that…?” he asked breathlessly, and Ignis chuckled, glancing down at himself.

“I suppose it is,” he said with that familiar accent, and Noctis’ gaze fell to the hollow of Ignis’ throat, where a small skull pendant dangled on a delicate chain.

“You’re late,” he said with a laugh that was almost a sob, and Ignis smiled.

“My apologies, Your Highness. As it turns out, learning to walk on these blasted legs is a bit of a time consuming project,” he said, low enough so those nearby couldn’t quite hear.

Because they were gathering quite a bit of attention by now- a beautiful young man with a strange accent shows up, and the prince himself barrels across the room like a Garula to greet him? Yeah, that was bound to turn some heads. Noctis took hold of Ignis’ hands- his hands, no claws, no webbing- and pulled him onto the dance floor.

“Dance with me.”

“Noct, I can hardly jog, you can’t honestly expect me to-“

“Follow my lead. It’s a slow song,” Noctis said, and he pulled Ignis in close and wrapped one arm around the man’s slender waist. His reasoning was twofold; one, so the dancers around them wouldn’t overhear their conversation, and two, because he was selfish and he’d missed Ignis. He wanted him close.

He swayed Ignis gently in time with the music, looking at him with fascination. “How did this happen? You’re…human now? For good?”

“I may have told the council that I wasn’t interested in any of their matchmaking offers because I’d fallen in love with a human,” Ignis said, and Noctis’ eyes went wide. That was treason- Ignis had committed treason, for him.

“They could have killed you.”

“Oh, they wanted to,” Ignis said with a chuckle. “The council wanted me executed then and there. But…my father intervened and proposed a different punishment. That if I was so in love with a human, that I be left at the mercy of humans.”

Noctis’ breath caught when he realized just what Ignis was implying. “He knew you would be safe as a human,” he said, finishing the unspoken thought. “He did it to save you.”

Ignis nodded, stumbling a little but managing to recover quickly. “Luckily for us, the council didn’t catch on. They thought that it was clever, condemning me to death at the hands of humans. They…”

He paused and cleared his throat, and Noctis saw the pain flicker across his face, the frown he tried to hide. “They stripped me of my magic, gave me this form, and left me on my own,” he said, his grip tightening on Noctis just the slightest bit. “I can now see how you so nearly drowned all those years ago. Legs don’t seem to be made for swimming well.”

Guilt hit Noctis like a hammer to the gut, imagining everything that Ignis had gone through for him- stripped of his magic, exiled, turned into a different species, and left alone. And Noctis hadn’t been there to help him, hadn’t even known it was happening. “How did you…?” he started to ask, and Ignis nodded toward a young lady not far away- a woman in a yellow dress, her blonde hair chin length and delicately curled, talking to Prompto. She grinned and waved at Ignis, and then winked.

“That young lady found me on the beach. She and her grandfather run a boat repair shop,” he said with a fond smile. “I’m lucky she didn’t decide I was crazy and kick me back out to sea. She helped me- taught me how to walk, got me some clothing, went over some of the basics of human life with me so I could come here without your guards thinking I needed to be carted off to the nearest asylum.”

“I guess I owe her, huh?” Noctis said, studying Ignis closer. Sure enough, while his eyes were the same pale green color, that subtle glow of magic was gone.

“We both do.”

“So, this is our mystery suitor?”

Noctis and Ignis both stepped back in surprise at the new voice, and Regis stood there smirking, like a cat who got the cream. Noctis narrowed his eyes. “Mystery suitor?”

Regis laughed and clapped a hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “Noctis, you were not a subtle child. Did you really believe that I never knew you were sneaking out every month? I have the best eyes in the country watching out for your well being,” he said, and Noctis’ eyes went wide with realization.

“Cor.”

“And he’s given you your privacy and kept your secret, all these years,” Regis pointed out before shifting his attention to Ignis. “Though I must admit, you don’t exactly fit Cor’s description.”

“I made some…life changes, Your Majesty,” Ignis said- to his credit, he seemed to be handling this rather well.

But he had been royalty himself…up until he threw it away for Noctis.

“Life changes indeed. He might be out of your league, Noct,” Regis said, smiling at the pair and earning an eye roll from his son. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to your dance. We can talk later, once the party is over.”

Noctis watched his father walk away, and then he grabbed Ignis’ hand again. “Come on,” he said, and he dragged Ignis through the crowd and out a side door, onto a balcony. He closed the door behind them, and in moments he’d turned and pulled Ignis into a heated, desperate kiss, one that was readily returned.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said when they finally broke apart for air, and Ignis smiled and kissed Noctis’ forehead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to bring you to make up for my absence this time.”

“Ignis,” Noctis said, and he cupped Ignis’ face in both hands, holding him like he was something priceless. “Having you here with me now is better than anything you could have brought me from any ocean in the world.”

Ignis sighed, tension seeming to drain from his body at Noctis’ touch. “Glad to hear it.”

“You’ve sacrificed so much for me- your magic, your home, your family-“

“And I would do it all again, given the choice,” Ignis interrupted him, not a shred of doubt in his words. “You have my heart, Noctis, should you want it.”

Noctis tugged Ignis in close again, determined to keep contact, as if worried that Ignis was a vision that would vanish with the dawn.

“I do.”

[chainzwebcomic]

Descent: Finale

PREVIOUS UPDATES: PROLOGUE DESCENT III

“MAMESUYA!”

He became visible again and decided to wander to his quarters. He stood thinking about his goodbye with Vanthros as he made his way to his quarters.

Vanthros gave him a tight hug as Uriah entered the portal. “What you’re doing means the world to me, I couldn’t have done this without you!”

“Don’t thank me, I should apologize for your experience in the After Lands.”

“Uriah, will you be ok? What you’ve done for me, surely it will make you guilty of treason…”

“Don’t worry about me, just take good care of Winona and the child.”

Vanthros gave him a warm smile as Uriah made his way back to the After Lands.

He drifted lazy to his quarters with a heavy head. “So this is it huh? Uriah, grand Patron of Life of the afterlands, valuable Fighter of Virtue among the battles of the abyss, esteemed member of the Council of Ven…. traitor to his kingdom…” He continued with a heavy heart, unable to process anything else.

“Uriah,” A familiar booming voice called out to him.

“C-Commander, what are you doing out?”

“It seems our prisoner is missing? You wouldn’t have to know anything about it would you Uriah?”

“I can’t say I do sir.”

A fiendish smirk grew on the Commander’s. Uriah was taken aback and stepped away cautiously.

“Well it was nice seeing you tonight Commander, better be going-”

The Commander bursted out in a large guffaw.

“You think I don’t know it was you Uriah?”

Uriah froze in place.

“The ability to make one’s essence completely disappear, that was completely unique to you in the war if I remember correctly.” “Many Spectre have joined the After Lands Since-”

“Then where did your essence go Uriah?”

He froze with shock as he assessed his situation. He calmed down and kept his cool.

“Alright, I let him go, if you want to try me for that by all means, just bring him back alive he had nothing to do with this.”

The commander burst out laughing again.

“You’re a fool if you think that insolent disgrace is still alive.”

Uriah felt the air grow cold and his body became uneasy.

“It was painfully obvious where you two were going, I tracked you and waited for you too leave. I knew you wouldn’t keep your lying word on bringing him back to the After Lands, you’re too good to bring him back to die. You’re such a fool.”

“You can’t do that! What about the Public? They will outrage if they find out he didn’t die in a cleansing ceremony!” “But Uriah, I didn’t do that, you did!”

The large harpy  from the council crept out of the shadows and stood next to the Commander.

“Mephista! You’re in on this too? Of course you are, you’ve had it out for me since day one in the council, you could never stand me thwarting your violent ideas.”

Mephista crossed both sets of her arms and rolled her eyes, “Oh get over yourself.” Uriah clenched his fist in anger, “There’s no way you can pin his death on me!” “I believe the public will have a change of heart about you after the massive slaughter you’re about to commit Uriah?

‘What!?”

Mephista pressed her hands together arched one pair in a v formation upwards and one downwards. She then twisted her arms in a horrifically in-human way as her eyes began to glow light blue. And her open mouth flashed her fangs. White energy began to fill her mouth as she casted a spell. “YOU WILL FOLLOW MY HOLY WILL, NABIRU” Uriah was placed under complete hypnosis and lost all control of his body. Mephista twisted her arms once again, “Carry out my holy will, Kill every single guard on the spire”

Uriah’s rose at her command and kneeled. He responded in a monotone hollow voice. “I will carry out your holy justice.”

Uriah proceeded to mercilessly slaughter every guard on the spire until he was successfully contained. He was placed in the crimson room until his rampage ended.

———————————————————————————————————————

“Patron of Life Uriah Setoah, for being responsible for the largest mass slaughter in the history of our society and the murder of prisoner Vanthros Haliet you will be banned from ever again entering the Afterlands. You will be sent to the real world and stripped of your awaken state, and branded with the Mark of the Scourge!”

“M-Mark of the Scourge?!”

“It completely removes any chances of you obtaining the power of ever entering the After Lands again, and severely inhibits your powers to near human like levels! Brand him!”

An Old Spectre carrying a large metal Spike was ordered into the room.

“Impale him!” The Spectre plunged the spike into Uriah’s shoulder blade, through his wings and piercing past his chest. The agonizing pain swept through his entire being making his muscles spasm and scream as loud as possible. The Spectre drew the spike out but it left no wound, only a mysterious symbol on his right shoulder blade. As The Spike was pulled out Uriah’s for began to deteriorate. His Spectre form began to evaporate away until all that was left were his wings, his large necklace. What laid before them now was nothing more than a man. Most likely in his late 20’s. He appeared to be of Asian descent with shockingly bright green hair to match his wings. He laid there naked, barely breathing with his wings shielding him.

“Those damn things should fall off in due time. His Necklace should fade away too. He’s done for. Throw him into the real world. It’s been a long time since he was a human, Uriah won’t have the slightest idea what to do.”

They picked up his unconscious body, the commander came with them and Mephista followed eagerly.

The Commander masqueraded sadness, “Such a tragedy, he was a great council member.” “Good Riddance!” Mephista said with a large grin. They dropped his body down into a portal and Mephista cackled viciously, “Lemme just get one Last blow in!” She dove after his body and clawed at his chest, snagging his necklace breaking the string and crushing some beads.

“Mephista get back!” The commander held her back as she almost fell into the portal.

“He’s mortal now, there’s no need to be so excessive.”

She breathed scorching flames at him and lit one of his wings aflame. “I want him dead!” She yelled struggling against the commander.

“Let him die down there like he deserves.” They watched as his body made a slow descent into the real world, doomed to fall to earth dazed, confused, and powerless. The feathers on his right wing slowly began falling off, creating a beautiful flourish of green as descended down and down out of the After Lands. Uriah would never see the After Lands again.