#well that answers that about malevolent kitchen

[lavenderjewels]

Crunchyroll changed the subtitles from “Makora”to Mahoraga and “Malevolent Kitchen” to Malevolent Shrine lmao

[johnbrand]

Sister's New Boyfriend

“C’mon bro, didn’t you miss this?” Scott teased, his giant Size 13 foot plopped onto the coffee table in front of me.

“Cut it out, Scott,” I hissed, knowing my sister was bound to call us into the kitchen any minute now.

“Why should I?” Scott cockily grinned. “We both know you want to.”

I held back the scarlet that threatened to color my face. “That’s not true.”

“It’s only been what, seven or eight years since high school?” Scott’s grin shifted into an exaggerated frown. “Surely you haven't forgotten me, have you? And all the fun times we had together?”

Unfortunately I had not forgotten Scott, or the “fun times” he was referring to. The constant bullying; harassment and name-calling and even a few bouts of abuse. It was painful for me to reflect on, both of us being the same age and yet being emotionally attacked by a man double my size. Since those years, the gym and my therapist had helped me move past those vulnerable times. Even though I had struggled to find a relationship, I was stronger now; a fighter well-off with a supportive network. 

“Luckily for you, I’ve moved on,” I snarked, sizing Scott up.

“I don’t think you have,” Scott’s smirk returned. “Otherwise you would’ve left as soon as you saw me.”

I had not expected Scott to be my sister’s new boyfriend. The man she had been gloating about for months, this “kind, sensible, loyal” being that had corrupted her life to the point that he was all she would talk about. I would have never assumed my sister–my older, highly educated sister–to end up with the malevolent jock who had destroyed my ego all those years ago. And after brief introductions, in which I realized I was still physically smaller than my former tormentor, I quickly sensed the looming danger of the situation.

“I’m not going to abandon my sister,” I retorted.

“You’re not going to abandon your commands, either,” Scott shot back, a bit to my confusion. Scott had apparently dropped out of college, but had become a fitness influencer in the years since, pulling in huge financial figures. It was difficult not to reflect on the fact that even though I had a degree, Scott had still come out on top. “Stop lying to yourself, buddy.”

Instead of another backhanded defense, I felt myself a slow warmth settling in his bones. My frustration subsided as a peaceful, almost artificial calm crawled over. My usual worries were smoothing over, something that Scott recognized immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it, buddy.” Again, the word sent a pleasurable warmth all across my frame, tingling my toes and twitching the corners of my mouth into the beginnings of a dopey smile. “I see a few years apart hasn’t weakened my conditioning on you at all, has it?”

I knew better than to answer. In therapy, I thought I had discussed all my qualms with Scott. Every single memory I could recover was heavily investigated, scrutinized, and then analyzed to create a plan for my future proceedings. But it was not until that very moment, in my sister’s living room reunited with my high school bully, that I realized I had only covered half of the relationship Scott had created for us. The memories my therapist and I had discussed, those were only the ones Scott had allowed me to remember.

“No Sir,” I replied, the title suddenly feeling appropriate. “Not at all. I still jack off to the thought of your magnificence at least twice a week as you instructed, Sir.”

My pupils inflated as Scott’s smirk grew sinister; this truth being revealed to both of us. 

“What, you didn’t think I just let you go after graduation, did you?” Scott’s words cut right to the bone, my embarrassment finally flushing my face. “I guess my hypnosis was better than I thought it was back then. I like to keep all my boys on a leash, in case they ever become useful to me again.”

Before I could respond, Scott snapped his finger and pointed back at his foot. Immediately, I was kneeling before him, my nose inhaling his godly scent and my tongue running across the holy valleys of his sole. Every breath sent another wave of affection across me, the submissive alter ego Scott had created for me back in high school overriding all the defenses I had built up since then.

“Who’d have thought one of them would eventually become my brother-in-law?” Scott commented. Even as my former life and independence was quickly evaporating, his smug victory brought a single tear to my eye. 

“I thought I was going to break the news!” My sister yelled from the kitchen, finally entering the conversation but apparently oblivious to what was actually happening. “Dinner will be set in a minute!”

“Thanks babe,” Scott called back, before searing his eyes straight through me. “Hope you’re ready to be an uncle too, buddy.”

That revelation snapped what was left of my free will. But now, I had more important things to worry about, like tending to Scott’s feet.

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK Chapter 258 (spoilers)

We get an explanation about what happened to Gojo after his two BF and what should've happened to Sukuna but didn't because Yuji's BF disrupted his cohesion to Megumi's soul and body.

Sukuna of course, in complete bitch mode, expanded his domain as an answer to Yuji's attacks. His domain construct looks significantly different to his previous ones though and there is an explanation for that as well.

Sukuna is still suffering the effects of Gojo's Unlimited Void but he compensated for that by using other areas of his brain. He also had to use Binding Vows and a different hand sign (the fuck) and he expanded MS with a shell.

When I first saw that new construct I thought that Sukuna had somehow incorporated the 10Shadows into his domain but no, he changed his domain so much that the construct changed with it.

The shape isn't out of the blue though: it has hands symbolizing how Sukuna uses his slashes and the eyes and spine are like the mouth in his normal construct. The antlers on top are from his inner domain where there are deer skulls everywhere.

The many eyes could also symbolize Gojo because, as we see in a few panels clearly but can guess in this panel as well, Sukuna used Gojo's hand sign. The eyes have Sukuna's double/triple iris though.

Another explanation, this time on healing others. This is huge for Shoko's part because we've had trouble understanding the full extant of her healing ability. She can't e.g. regenerate an arm but now her healing has the potential to shoot up when her patient is someone she's compatible with (like Gojo?)

The gang is at the beginning of the time skip (no Gojo here again) and they discuss Yuji eating his brothers to gain a CT and RCT. We also find out what the soul switching is (Ui Ui's CT) and how they utilized it for their (cheater) training.

Yuji and some others have also learned Simple Domain like this. Ui Ui's CT has some limits on how often it can be used so I'm curious who did which switching with whom. We're also talking about souls again so could Ui Ui switch Megumi's soul too?

We also learn that Sukuna DE is incomplete and can't be maintained for long. Because his domain has a shell, it's range is smaller (only about his Megumi-induced range of Shibuya.) But the Sure-hit still activates everywhere making sure that Maki is also targeted.

It's only 99 seconds though that Malevolent Shrine lasts and the four panels showing the gang enduring it with their SDs is pretty cool.

(I have no idea what is going with Maki though. Who's with her? Larue???)

The next panels were awesome but I did take 3 seconds to understand it so here:

Yuji re-attached his cut off foot with blood manipulation and RCT!

But of course, Sukuna is still in bitch mode and activates his secret technique that we've been waiting for all this time: It's FURNACE

Yes, his CT really is a kitchen. Don't be surprised when he opens his faucet next and don't forget, Sukuna one-shotted Jogo and Makora with his fire arrow.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

The anti Gojo fan club

"Are you sure you belong here?" Asked the oversized bouncer. Standing before him was a young teenage boy with pink locks and a school uniform.

"I think you'd be more comfortable at that place." He then pointed over to the club down the road (Weenie Hut Jr.'s).

"I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm pretty sure I'm on the list."

The bouncer then looked down and noticed four glowing, red eyes. He gulped and tried his best not to shit himself on the spot before moving aside and letting the boy in. Sighing in relief, the man let himself regain composure. It was then that he heard the most terrifying words in his life.

"Kenjaku, I told you that you were in charge of snacks! Honestly, I can't count on you for anything. It seems that I'M the one who has to do everything around here! Hey, you! How would you like to be apart of our dinner service instead of guarding that door?"

Sukuna said apart of as in literally. Everyone dragged the man in as the king of curses got his tools ready.

"Domain expansion, Malevolent Kitchen!"

______

Uraume was now busy cooking. They had a number of dishes in mind such as skewered intestines, "finger" sandwiches and some roasted thigh to name a few. As they were preparing the feast, the meeting began.

"Welcome, lowly peasants! Today marks our third annual villains assembly (totally not the bad guy version of AA that Gojo had forced on them). I see we have some new faces here. Care to introduce yourselves?"

A scrawny man stood up.

"M-my name is Ijichi and I joined because I can't tolerate Gojo's abuse any longer! He keeps spouting something about how "he's the 'honoured' one", and that's the reason why he's allowed to put kick me signs on my back and keep ding dong ditching my doorbell all night!"

The man then started to have a nervous breakdown and began to sob.

"There, there. You are among friends now.  You see, everyone here has a reason for hating the six eyed bastard."

"Not me. I'm just here for the free coupon tickets!"

Sukuna sighed.

"Who is the guy again?"

"My name's Reggie Star! I've been on TLC's extreme couponing! Why does everyone forget I exist!?"

"Reggie, we've been over this. This is solely for those that hate Satoru Gojo. If you can't abide by our clubs rules then feel free to leave."

Suddenly Kenjaku began to choke himself. Sukuna gave him a curious glance.

"Sorry, you know how my vessel likes to act up."

Sukuna nodded in agreement.

"We need to end this meeting in two hours or else the brat will wake up and spoil the fun. Now, is there anything else worth mentioning? Speak now."

"When do we get to play board games?"

"Damn it Mahito, you know well enough that those festivities don't take place until after everyone has eaten!"

"Hey, what is that!?"

Everyone started to notice a figure that was clearly trying to hide behind the throne but it was useless.

"I can hear your mosquito like voice already, Yorozu! You know the rules, no girls allowed."

The girl then popped out and began to pout.

"Then why do Mahito and Kashimo get to be here!?"

"For the last time, Mahito is a curse who has no gender and the consensus was that while Kashimo "looks female enough", he is indeed still male."

Mahito then decided to taunt her.

"Yeah! What's so cool about girls anyway!?"

"Didn't you wear a school girl uniform while fondling breasts you created?"

"That was one time Jogo, and it wasn't even canon!"

"I've had enough of this. Someone escort her out!"

Yorozu screamed and thrashed so Kenjaku released Kurourushi outside. She immediately ran after the cockroach so she could study it.

"Dinner is ready."

______

After everyone had finished, Mahito asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

"Which tastes better? Humans or curses?"

Kenjaku then appeared."Let me help answer that."

Kenny then began to drag a screaming Mahito towards his palm and then proceed to vore him down.

"Thank you! He was getting on my nerves."

Kenjaku began to savor the taste of Maximum Uzumaki and then proceeded to vomit the curse back up.

"I'd have to say humans. How did my vessel put it? You taste like a rag used to clean up shit and vomit."

Sukuna then joined in.

"So it matches his personality?"

"Correct."

Mahito was now trembling on the floor when the king of curses looked down upon him.

"Kenjaku, won't you be a dear friend and put on some karaoke for the entertainment? I want to sing skyfall."

Jogo lit his pipe up and started getting blazed. He had been waiting for the curse to get his ass beat.

"This weed is so good Hanami. Where did you find it?"

".ti werg I"

"Nevermind..."

______

"Wherever you go, I go. What you see, I see."

Mahito was now running for his life as Sukuna walked towards him. He thought about hiding in the bathroom but then remembered a word of advice he read on Yoshihiro Togashi's twitter account. "Never shit alone, for if you do, the horny clown will come to decapitate you!"

"Why did Gege have to put me in Shonen Jump!?"

Something then grabbed him by his collar.

"Found You!"

"Look, if this is about all those times I cheated when I was the banker in Monopoly, I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

"Oh, we're not killing you."

______

Mahito was now placed inside a pet crate.

"What's going on!?"

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Nanami?"

"I didn't expect to see you here Ijichi. I'm here because I was told that there was a curse that needs to be euthanized. Fortunately, I'm kind hearted and believe that even the worst animals have a chance at being reformed. It just takes proper discipline..."

The cage began to rattle.

"NOOOO! ANYONE BUT HIM! PLEASE, HAVE MERCY!"

Kento then picked up the handle of the carrier.

"Expect to be eating out of a dog bowl and being kept on a leash once we get home."

Everyone failed to realize that the two hour window had passed and Itadori began to wake up.

"Huh? What's going on? Am I dreaming?"

The crowd wasn't sure what to do until Kenjaku stepped up.

"Hello, son. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I am your mother."

"Okay, I really am dreaming then. Something that crazy could only happen in my imagination."

"You're my special. You were the only one I didn't abort."

"Huh? No offense mister but you're really creeping me out. I think I'm just gonna head out."

After the boy left, Kashimo spoke up."

So how big was he?"

"Gross!"

Everyone knew that the god of thunder had a thing for the king of curses.

"All I'm saying is that they were identical twins right?"

"I've had enough of this filth! Youngsters these days!"

Out came a disgusted Gakuganji. He was clearly the biggest Gojo hater but it seems that he couldn't tolerate the crudness of today's youth. The club would never hear his guitar covers of Jimi Hendrix again.

[imtoolazytoo]

So I finished Malevolent episode 12! And I got thoughts!

Spoilers under the little photo cause I… still can’t figure out how to make read more/keep reading links on tumblr mobile :,)

(Heheh I doodled them last night)

Jaune… John… God dammit

I had a feeling John might be The King In Yellow, but I didn’t wanna believe it! But he has humanity now. And… He doesn’t want to kill Arthur. He care him. I don’t care if it’s not canon I say homosexual activities are at play.

Arthur is really doing the Jonathan Sims speedrun any percent. (TMA S1 spoilers here!) I don’t know what’s worse: Being buried into by thousands of tiny worms or having a giant larvae (???) cling onto your stomach and suck the blood out of it! Either way: EEEEWWW

HE CARE HIM

The sounds of Arthur’s happiness and lil chuckles are giving me life

Happiness is stored in the Orthor

The implication that The King can’t fully take over Arthur’s mind not just because of John’s humanity, but because of the memory that Arthur has of his daughter… do not talk to me for 3 to 5 business days

WHAT HAPPENED TO HER, MAN?!?

Love how not listening to John about the lamp immediately screwed Arthur over. Listen to your husband more often, Arthur. Kiss his hand maybe why don’t you do that huh I’d say that’s a good apology oh my god I love them

My screams at Arthur have gone from screams of pure frustration to screams of pure frustration AND concern! Character growth!!! Good for you Arthur!

Oh yeah Kellin’s here. Hi Kellin :D

Fuck I hope I can finish writing this before I get to the bus stop

The dreamlands! WHOOHOO! But also! Oh no!

I didn’t think we’d get answers for what bound John and Arthur in the first season, but I’m not complaining!

…I’m sorry to give some of you older fans a heart attack… But in terms of homestuck classpecting I think John would be a Prince of Void. I’m so sorry.

JOHN. CARE. HIM!

So. That’s most of my thoughts. I LOOOOOVED THIS PODCAST!!! I never thought I’d be able to find anything that recreated what TMA meant to me, and while I still think that… DAMN, THIS IS CLOSE!!! And it’s its own little experience to seperate the two and make this so amazing and RAH RAH RAH I LOVE THIS I LOVE YOU MALEVOLENT HARLAN GUTHRIE I APPLAUD YOU!!!

But I do have one big thought in my head. I’m assuming the goal of season 2 will be to kill or just defeat The King In Yellow in order to keep Arthur’s body safe and escape the Dreamlands. But here’s the thing. If John is a part of The King’s soul… wouldn’t killing The King kill John as well? What if we get given the choice of killing The King or sparing him to save John, and Arthur chooses mercy? Because as much as he wants his body back, he doesn’t want to lose John??? I WOULD SCREAM!

And I swear to The King himself if I get reblogs like “You sweet Summer child” “No one tell her” “Oh you poor soul” like I did on my Faroe post I will throw kitchen appliances out of windows

That’s not a metaphor I just think breaking wooden spoons would do the least financial damage to me

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Whiskey - a Malevolent fic

Some talk.

Some dancing.

The beginning of a conversation they deeply need to have before things can go any farther.

Fortunately, Parker is good at having this kind of talk.

Part of the Surrogate Series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

------

The cooks liked them.

Parker was, to be fair, really good with people. He’d had to be; the world Parker came from ranked him as a second-class citizen for reasons Sunny found absolutely untenable (could they not see how lovely he was? How honed and elegant?), and had long ago developed a good sense of who had to be bullied and who had to be charmed.

Sunny liked this skill a lot. He also really liked people who liked Parker (with the crucial exception of who-would-not-be-named). The cooks, he decided, would be rewarded well for their kindness when he finally merged with the King in Yellow.

They’d been so fearful at first when he and Parker walked in. Parker had just wanted to know the name of the weird little dried fruits in that nutmeg pastry, and for one terrible moment, everyone freaked out.

Oh, but Parker! Parker. His words were soft but firm; he held his hands up, palms out, to show he meant no harm, and wore a gentle smile, and just… de-escalated the whole situation. Wonderful.

Then he got them talking. Then he got them joking. Before long, instead of just getting an answer about fruit (dried moonberries, expensive because they only grew in Leng and ice and snow, so of course the King would have a steady supply), the cooks were loading them down with not one but two platefuls of food they’d never had before.

Steamed fish! Roasted bird! Breads made from wheat Parker adorably could not pronounce, and his wholehearted attempts got the cooks laughing.

They left with more food than they could eat in a meal (though they sure did try) and a set of new admirers.

Yes. Sunny would reward them when it was time. For now, though, they had other things to do.

#

Parker really liked Dis. It didn’t feel like the kind of desire Sunny had seen and felt in him for men, but it was a good feeling, a lots-of-smiles feeling, a walking-away sweaty and bruised and proud feeling.

Dis had been surprised and pleased to know they could already do magic. “Shields, too?” she’d said.

“Sunny can toss a good one,” said Parker.

“Can you?” she’d said.

“Nope,” he’d said.

So she spent the next hour teaching him how.

Delightful. Parker was happy. Parker was safe. There was no sign of he-who-must-not-be-named, and if the Princess and her Dark Young were around, well, what of it? Sunny had no history with them, and they didn’t seem inclined to approach.

They sure did watch, though. Wide-eyed, fascinated; sometimes the Princess pretended she wasn’t watching (which Parker said was real cute), but more often, she just sat down and cheered them on as he and Dis sparred. “Get her!”

Parker did not get her, and landed on his ass again, and a good time was had by all.

It wasn’t bad. It really wasn’t; Sunny had time to figure out how to protect Parker at the end of six years so Parker could wander to his heart’s content. Sunny—as the King—could even go with him in disguise. They could adventure. It would be great.

#

Sunny was content to adventure in the kitchens, in the meantime. The quiche this morning was absolutely fantastic, of course, but I do really enjoy the addition of the scallions in this one, he said. Have you considered caramelizing them as well? I feel that would pair well with the cheese incorporated into the crust.

“Oh!” said the cook. “Oh! Our lord zuggezted zomething zimilar. If you but wait, I can…”

Parker laughed. “Can we do it tomorrow? I really can’t eat another bite.”

“Awww,” said the cooks (so well rewarded).

Parker patted his decidedly flat belly. “Stuffed like a goose. You’re gonna make me round as a pillow.”

Everyone liked that.

Tomorrow, then, if you would be so kind and be willing to accept my humble suggestion, Sunny said smoothly, voice sweet like honey. I am eager to see what you come up with!

“Oh, no, zir, you muzt try thiz before you go,” said the three-headed cook whose name Parker couldn’t quite manage, and offered a tumbler of rich, gold whiskey.

This whiskey was meant for gods. Parker took one sip, and his whole face grew hot. He coughed.

The cooks thought that was so cute, and added another slice of cake to his finally-empty plate.

“No,” Parker coughed. “No, thank you, I really can’t eat any more. Fuck, that was good, though.” His breath was warm.

Promises of such food followed them out as they left, and Parker laughed softly, walking slowly. “How the heck do I say that guy’s name again?”

Feel the way our mouth moves, Sunny said brightly. “Bh-tnnn-kour-noo-aaah. It’s in the back of the throat.”

Parker laughed. “Yeah, maybe when I haven’t had whatever kind of whiskey. Hot damn, Sunny. One sip and… wow. Fuckin’... good.” He rolled his shoulders. His breath was still warm. “You feel that? Damn. Think I must be glowing like a bulb.”

I honestly think I might even feel it, a bit, Sunny purred. It was absolutely phenomenal. I have to admit, I did not have a positive opinion on alcohol before recently. Perhaps it was because you’re much wiser about your consumption.

“Well… I mean, it’s like anything else. You gotta do it right. I’d call this right: you and me, full belly, all good. This is pretty damn—” And he ran right into the King in Yellow, overbalanced, and fell backwards.

Sunny gasped. He hadn’t seen. How had he not? (The whiskey, it was for gods, of course it had affected them both, he was so stupid—)

Hastur caught them with one tentacle. “Well,” he said, voice huge and terrifying and multi-dimensional.

Parker stared at him. “Fuck, you’re big. Stop doing that.”

Sunny gasped. Parker!

Hastur… laughed. It wasn’t a big laugh, but it happened, and he set Parker back on his feet without crushing or throwing or any of the things Sunny feared. “I’m afraid that request is denied.”

Great One, Sunny said, voice nervous. I… kindly let us pass, please. We have done everything you asked of us.

“Indeed, you have.” Hastur tugged Parker’s shirt back down.

Parker shoved at him. “Hands off the merchandise.”

Parker!

“So you've said,” rumbled the King. “It’s all right, Sunny. I find this… amusing.”

That could be taken any number of ways.

Parker just took it in stride. “You’re still too damn big for business.”

The King’s multi-tentacle shrug definitely seemed entertained. “Alas for me. You seem to be mildly inebriated.”

And Parker had to be thinking along the same lines as reward, because he said, “That button corner guy is fucking good. You should give him a raise.”

The mispronunciation startled Sunny into a peal of laughter. Parker joined him.

Hastur did… something. To Sunny, it felt like the gentlest touch—barely there, almost affectionate. “My head chef, I believe you mean?” Hastur said.

Yes, Great One. It came out in a laugh as he began to relax, the allure of the god-liquor and the knowledge Parker was safe and just being there beginning to sink in. We met them a few days ago, when we had some questions about the pastries that came with breakfast. And for tonight, we trained right through dinner, and I thought we would slip in and ask for a plate, but it became an entire production. I apologize for my brashness.

“No apologies required.” Hastur was so different when not in front of people. That touch again; it felt relaxing, safe, and his incorporeal body leaned into it. “You have not argued since you arrived in this place,” said Hastur.

“Argued?” Parker looked confused. “For what?”

Sunny let out a puzzled noise. You made the situation clear, Great One. We have not caused any trouble.

“I hardly mean with others. With one another.” That touch was just a bit firmer. Maybe he was trying to get Sunny to purr.

Whatever it was, it was the closest Sunny ever remembered to feeling whole, and it was glorious. Why the fuck would I fight with Parker?

“Fighting seems to be what your counterparts constantly do.”

Parker snorted. “You mean Arthur’s a bitey little bitch.”

Hastur made a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh this time, but maybe one barely covered up. “Indeed.”

That is… Sunny’s voice wavers, a bit. That seems… strange. I remember Arthur said he and John fought, but… I don’t understand why.

“Do you truly agree on everything?” said the King.

“Pffft,” says Parker. “What kind of a leading question is that? Nobody agrees on everything.”

“Yet you do not fight.” That touch again; Sunny sighed, content as… how did Parker put it? A bug in a rug.

“Why would we?” Parker said. “We’re grownups. Maybe we could teach you how to get along. No more blowing people up.”

That seemed less safe. Parker, Sunny chided mildly.

“No more blowing people up, hm?” said Hastur, still not angry.

“Everybody’s talking about it. Court.” Parker paused. “Huh. Know what? I think I’m drunk.  I don’t really have, uh. What do they call it? The blanket between my thoughts and my mouth. A filter. Right now. But I only had one sip.”

“It is intended for beings such as myself, and is potent.”

“Oh.” Parker considered. “The hangover?”

“Likely nonexistent.”

Parker’s shoulders untensed. “Then I don’t give a fuck.”

Parker and I were able to establish respect quickly, Sunny said, low and defensive. He… He is willing to compromise. To work with me. And as such I have afforded the same to him.

“Curious. Had I time…” The King hesitated. “You have both pleased me so far. Know this.”

“We ain’t done any of it for you, though,” said Parker.

Sunny was quiet for a moment. I appreciate you recognizing our efforts.

“I do.” Strange, though; Sunny knew this body language. The great Lord of Carcosa was… tired. Should gods be tired? “You have been the least troublesome aspect of all of this entire adventure. Have you any requests?”

Aside from Parker’s freedom… yes, we have some questions, Great One, but… but later. For those. But we do have one request.

“We do?” said Parker.

“Go ahead and ask,” said Hastur. That touch again; it felt very good. Steadying. As if the King wanted Sunny to speak, which was an incredible concept.

Sunny wanted to speak. Sunny wanted good things for Parker. Sunny dared to want good things for himself. Would… Would it be possible to… just every once in a while… eat with you, and the others, without Larson present? Not every day. Maybe now and then.

“Oh,” said Parker. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

Partners take care of each other, said Sunny softly.

“Thanks, bud,” said Parker, sounding just a bit wobbly.

The King considered it. “An excellent request. I don’t see why not. He’s certainly taking up enough of my time that he has no right to complain.”

He was? Oh, that wasn’t good. Sunny growled a little.

Parker stroked his jaw. “That asshole isn’t touching you again. You’re all right.”

Hastur did… whatever that unseen contact was, and Sunny relaxed, making a sound like a sigh. Thank you, Great One. Thank you.

And out of nowhere (or maybe reading the room), Parker changed subjects. “We saw your kid out there, training. She’s fuckin’ skilled. You must be real proud.”

The King had no face to smile. His eyes were hidden by his mask; but his body language… Pride. Joy. Focus. “Yes. She is remarkable. I have never known a human as worthy.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” said Parker, slightly unclearly. “You really gonna answer questions later?”

“Eventually, yes. When you are sober.”

Parker nodded solemnly. “That’s good shit.”

You really are drunk, Sunny said, and now he purred, a happy rumble that vibrated down Parker’s spine. But that’s alright—I am too. I think. Thank you, Great One. I… It is my hope that we will be ready to speak more in a day or two, if your schedule allows.

“We have six years. You have time.”

Parker looked thoughtful. “You mean that?”

“Of course.”

Parker peered at him.

Six years, Sunny said quietly. We aim to make the most of it.

“Good. So do I. Rest well, Sunny, Parker Yang, when you do rest.” And off the King went, hovering, his many tentacles curling and undulating as though he moved through unseen sea.

Parker rubbed his eyes. “Always see gold afterimages for a while after talkin’ to him.”

It is his power, said Sunny proudly. He is pleased with you.

“That could’ve gone worse, huh? Weird, though. Something in there… something was a lie.”

Sunny was in such a good place. He didn’t want to deal with lies right now. There was? he said, tiny.

Parker waved his hand. “We’re good. Don’t worry, partner.”

I won’t, Sunny said fondly. You are a charming man, Parker.

Parker laughed. “Fuck. I’d take you dancing tonight if I could. Hey… we could do that! They got radio here?”

Sunny’s good mood was back. Now I know you’re drunk. How do you dance with a partner that lives inside your head?

“Oh, like… uh. Hm. I can’t sing for shit. They really don’t have radio?”

I don’t believe so. It’s possible that Hastur has recordings, somewhere—I suppose we could dig around the library, but live music is preferred here.

“Then I guess you gotta deal with my tone-deaf… me. I’ll show you how we dance.” And he began to move.

His singing wasn’t great; sort of monotone, more a rhythm than a tune, but his feet… the way he held his body, one arm out as if around a partner, one around his own chest… the way moved his hips, the way his whole spine seemed to curve… Sunny could see it all in the ubiquitous mirrors, and it turned out that Parker couldn’t just fight. He could dance.

Sunny laughed. Parker! What are you—look at us! For fuck’s sake, let me have our voice, would you? I’ll give us something to dance to.

Parker gave him an exaggerated, reflected wink, and then gave him his mouth.

Sunny took over, sliding into bass notes, singing from their chest:

“I can't forget the night I met you That's all I'm dreaming of And now you call it madness But I call it love

You made a promise to be faithful By all the stars above And now you call it madness But I call it love”

Parker turned the dance into something slow and graceful and somehow incredibly sweet, eyes lidded, swaying as if up against someone he could only imagine. “I like that. Works for us, don’t it? It’s all crazy in this place, but you and me? We’re okay.”

He looked happy. Sunny memorized it, the gentle curve of Parker’s mouth, and let himself settle into it. It felt appropriate. Oh, Parker. You seem to be having fun, even without a partner. Perhaps in time we’ll find someone we can dance with, as well. You certainly know how to move.

“Yeah, I can cut a rug. Always could. And what are you saying, without a partner? I got a partner. Right here. Making music.”

Careful now, Parker, Sunny purred. You might wind up seducing me. And there isn’t a whole lot you’d be able to do for that.

Parker spun, hips swaying in a way Sunny found lovely to watch. “Maybe not now, but we’re in a magic place. There’ll be something.”

Sunny laughed. I suppose we could scour the archives for a spell of instant orgasm. Magic appears to work on me.

“See? There’ll be some way.”

Sunny paused. That will be an interesting conversation with Hastur.

“Ha!” Parker spun again. “It’d be funny as fuck, though.”

‘Hello, great one, yes, I was wondering, do you know of any way to help an errant piece of you with no physical body orgasm?’ Sunny quipped. ‘Yes, we’ve tried focusing really, really hard on me transferring to Parker’s dick. No, it hasn’t worked. Oh thank you, Your Majesty, the Unspeakable. Thank you for this orgasm.’

Parker laughed. “Right? Easy!” He did a little shuffle and hummed tunelessly again. He hadn’t stumbled yet. “Fuck, that was good whiskey. Heh. Could give some of that to Arthur and get the truth out of him.”

It wouldn’t even need to be a lot. The man can’t hold his liquor worth shit, Sunny said.

Parker laughed again. “Fuckin’ true. How'd you know that?" Their jaw tensed, and Parker decided to move on. Later for whatever that was. This was for them, now. "Wonder how high this place goes. They got, like… places on the roof to go?”

That there are, my friend. How high do you want to go? We’re allowed free reign. I can’t take you to the tallest spire—that belongs to the King—but I can take you pretty fucking high.

“I wanna go lie down under the stars. Not where anybody can walk on us, or anything.”

I can do that. I’ll lead the way.

And he did. They climbed what felt like hundreds of stairs. Parker commented on the artwork and frippery, and Sunny made a few jokes. Finally, they reached an honest-to-goodness ladder leading to a trap door, which Parker was able to push open and climb through.

Oh, boy, they were high.

The air was still cold with the waning chill of spring, and the moons low hung in the sky. The glittering white stars were bright against the night like scattered pearls on a bed of black silk. Gold railings, barely more than ankle height, looped around the small platform on the roof, and Sunny let out a soft gasp.

“Oh, wow,” Parker breathed.

It’s… It’s so beautiful, up here. Excellent idea, my friend.

Parker stared straight up. He looked out, at the distant dark mountains, at the glittering lake taking the light of Carcosa and turning it to dancing gold. After a moment, he had to wipe his eyes.

Oh, Parker, Sunny said gently. Penny for your thoughts?

“I just… I’m grateful? I never would’a got to see any of this.” He gestured, taking in all of the Dreamlands. “Rich people travel, you know? I was lucky I got to move from Boston to Arkham. Got to go to New York City, sometimes. But this is…” He swallowed.. “Larson made some stupid comment about my paygrade, way back in the beginning, remember? He wasn’t wrong. I don’t… I never thought I’d get to do nothing like this. At least my folks got to see another country, but they left it. Never told me shit about it.” He sighed. “And now…” He sat near the edge, taking in the silvery waves of grass, wind-stirred under the two moons. “Now this. I know it’s been rough. And I’m not lookin’ forward to saying goodbye to you when you join that guy again, but… it’s worth it. It’s all been worth it. I guess that’s what I got to say.”

Parker really felt he’d grieve to see Sunny go.

Parker really felt Sunny would be… missed.

Their throat tightened, and their mouth began to speak.

“Like tiny drops of crystal rain,         In every life the moments fall,  To wear away with silent beat,         The shell of selfishness o’er all.

And every act, not one too small,         That leaps from out the heart’s pure glow,  Like ray of gold sends forth a light,         While moments into seasons flow.

Athwart the dome, Eternity,         To Iris grown resplendent, fly  Bright gleams from every noble deed,         Till colors with each other vie.

’Tis glimpses of this grand rainbow,         Where moments with good deeds unite,  That gladden many weary hearts,         Inspiring them to seek more Light.”

“It has been the greatest honor, my friend,” Sunny said softly with Parker’s voice. “We still have almost six years. I’m not going anywhere soon. I promise.”

“I just keep fallin’ for guys with poetry in ‘em,” Parker muttered. “Must be me making up for not being able to sing. I really liked that. And yeah… six years. That’s pretty good.”

Most people would only be content with a lifetime together, Sunny said gently.

“Sure, but… I mean, I grew up, everybody told me I couldn’t love guys because you can only love girls. I dunno. I guess I’m grateful for anything I can get.”

We carry no such compulsions in the Dreamlands, Parker. The way humans view gender and sex as a binary construct is almost laughable. Here… no one whose opinions are of any merit will demand that of you, one way or another.

“That’s gonna take some getting used to,” Parker murmured. “I might not die alone, huh?”

Sunny gasped. Oh, Parker. It is my intent to remain in your life, even after… after I merge back with the King. I will be part of him, and he will carry my affection for you with him always.

“Shit,” said Parker with deep appreciation.

Sunny spoke fluent Parker, and knew that wasn’t the bad kind of swear. We may even mark you. I would want to keep you safe, close, to elevate you as you deserve—and maybe we will get you a little investigator’s office, down in Carcosa. Even a title. I could arrange that, too.

“Mark me?” Parker swallowed, still staring into the distance. “That’s a pretty big offer, isn’t it?”

You are worth pretty big things.

Parker took a breath. He sounded unsure. “I’d need to know more about that mark thing first. I don’t… wanna lose myself, you know?”

We have plenty of time, Parker.  It’s almost a blessing, in its own way. He let out a soft rumble. When we were thrown to Carcosa, I was so afraid. It was happening too fast. And it hurt, to hear he… would not merge with me, yet, but I also… I wasn’t done. For the first time, Parker, I felt like there was more this world could offer me. And I am so glad I get to spend it with you. Everything I’ve seen in the last eight months has meant more to me than… than the whole of this palace combined.

Parker exhaled slowly. “I ain’t sayin’ yes yet, but what’s it mean if you mark me?”

Your soul would be linked to mine until the end of time itself. You would share in my immortality; while you could be killed, you would not age, or sicken, and I would be able to sense you. Feel you. If you needed my aid, or my company, I could go to you; and I could call you if I needed you. Sunny sighed. It is the highest honor a Great One can bestow upon a mortal. You would be my chosen, and I would hold you aloft as a beacon to all.

Parker licked his lips. “Sorta sounds like… fairy tale marriage.”

Huh. I hadn’t thought of that connotation, Sunny mused. I… Suppose so?

“You’re serious. I wouldn’t age?”

I am. If you wished, you could live forever.

Parker fell silent. He studied the Dreamlands, or at least the view tonight—the city moved, after all, so it wouldn’t always be this.

“I was so sure I’d die young,” Parker whispered. “And here you are, talkin forever.”

Sunny dearly wished he had Parker’s hands, or at least one of them. You’re worth forever. I love you, Parker.

Parker shifted forward, legs crossed, head down. Tears slid past their lips. “Never thought I’d hear that, either.”

Oh, Parker…

“I love you too, Sunny, whatever that means. I dunno. This is all new.”

You’ve been in love before, Sunny pointed out.

“Not returned. Changes things up a bit.”

Sunny was definitely drunk. If Arthur didn’t love you back, he deserved…

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Parker stroked his lips. “I think I’m better at talking now than I was. So it’s good. I don’t know about marking, but… six years maybe ain’t long enough, after all.”

Sunny wouldn’t just be missed. Sunny was wanted. He fell silent, and he couldn’t cry, but he could settle in Parker’s mouth and taste the god-whiskey and watch the sleeping world.

And it was very good.

Notes:

Sunny's poem is Iris of Life by Zitkála-Šá.

[sarcastic-nebula]

okay I'm running with this:

wolffe is secretly known for being a bread baker. ideally, once the war ends and he's ready to retire, he works in a bakery

can't afford a sourdough due to being shipped across the galaxy every other week

after Malevolence, Plo encourages him to find a hobby. he doesn't cope well for a while after Malevolence, and after trial and error and lots of resistance, he finds bread baking

yadda yadda yadda he secretly sells loaves and that's his side hustle when he's on Coruscant. The money he makes goes to various things, like anonymous paid-for rounds at 79s, his secret stash of treats, a new caf machine for the Coruscant Guard, a few extra credits going to the Jedi Order's charities. It's not much, but since he's offworld often, he can't really spend his credits, and when he does, he's saved so much that he's not sure what do with it. Wolffe is a practical guy; he's got food, water, housing, and clothes provided. He'll get himself some new socks , a delicacy coffee/cocktail/treat, or a succulent to brighten up his private quarters every now and then, but he has all that he needs.

but NO ONE can know that 1) he has a stash of credits and 2) he does Nice Things with them

except for Plo. He helps get Wolffe supplies, and drives him around Coruscant to deliver bread

But Plo doesn't know that Wolffe is the one sending anonymous 20-100 credit donations toward Spalvation Army/Spig Brothers Spig Sisters/Spommunities in Schools, etc. He has a small suspicion though

Towards the end of the war, Plo gives Wolffe some of the Order's sourdough starter, as a way to say, "thank you for your service, you don't have to stay any longer if you don't want to. Go work at that bakery and get away from war and politics if that's what you want!"

Plo is VERY Proud Father at Wolffe for how far he's come after his grief and trauma from the Malevolence arc

tbh I would be too. we stan healthy coping mechanisms/hobbies

but yes, he will take special requests for muffins, popovers, and things related to bread. he doesn't mind practicing since he gets some good privacy in the Jedi Temple kitchens, and he bribes the younglings and retired Jedi for their silence by allowing them to be taste testers

but Padme heard about this excellent small time baker and she wanted to try his cinnamon blossom muffins, so she sent in a special order. imagine her surprise when Wolffe knocks at her apartment door. Naturally, C3PO answers the door, and she learns who this mysterious baker is by the huffing and puffing she hears from her front door. (this is where the image above comes from, when C3PO open's Padme's front door and Wolffe immediately goes RBF with the package of muffins when making eye contact with Threepio) Because Wolffe can't stand C3PO. She promises to keep his hobby a secret. He's embarrassed that she found him yelling at her droid. They meet for tea twice a month now.

so demure. so mindful

[the-broomstick-cupboard]

✨ 5 types of witches ✨

There’s been a high rise of new people with an interest for paganism, wicca and all things witchcraft over the last couple years, but while stylized Tarot cards and light-catching crystals are perfect tools, the shift from an intrigued observer to practicing wiccan or pagan can be a daunting one. So why not start the process by determining which brand of witchery resonates with you?

Read and learn about five specialized takes on witchcraft;

Cosmic Witch

Cosmic witches will often incorporate planetary and celestial energy into their practices and spellwork. They feel a personal, spiritual and emotional connection with with the planets in our solar system, but that’s not the limit- some also feel this with asteroids, meteors, supernovas, stars, constellations, galaxies, as well as black holes! These witches will pay attention to the finer details of astrology, horoscopes, and zodiac signs—but that’s only the surface of how the cosmic forces influence the individual. They focus on how celestial energy influences the inner self, people around them and the world.

Cosmic witches have been around since the study of planets. According to the American Federation of Astrologers, they used their astrological charts to predict the “recurrence of seasons and certain celestial events.” Around 2000 BC. Babylonian astrologers believed that the sun, moon, and the five known planets at the time all had distinct character traits.

Divination Witch

A divination witch uses their magick to try to predict the future, to find guidance and to have questions answered, often by using a variety of tools—or one that resonates with them personally. There are so many various mediums with which you can connect into the magick of the world; Tarot cards, oracle cards, pendulums, palmistry, and tasseography, and more.

Divination as well as divination witches have existed in nearly about every time period in history. In ancient Greece, these witches were known as Oracles, and it was believed that deities spoke to them / through them.

Green Witch

A green witch works with magickal properties found in the natural world around us. Their craft is based on respecting nature and all living things. Green witches focus on the magickal meanings and uses of herbs, plants, and flowers. This incorporates herbalism; The use of plants intended for medicinal purposes, into their practice.

Herbalism is found in many cultures, ancient and not. In some parts of Africa, a herb called purslane was used for cleansing during and after rituals, while in some Scandinavian countries, clover was used to ward off evils spirits and help develop psychic ability! In folk magic, chamomile is said to bring luck.

Kitchen Witch

A kitchen witch incorporates their magick practices into their cooking, usually within their own home. Their magic is not based on any divine power or spiritual guidance, but in the magic that can be found in everyday life. Their craft shines brightest while cooking and baking, by using the power of their own intentions.

Witchcraft and cooking have always come hand-in-hand. Our classic image of a witch has always persisted as a woman stirring her cauldron and there has always been a magical and ritualistic nature surrounding food, like in green witchcraft, kitchen witches use herbalism in their food-based magick—but kitchen witchery isn’t just about food! It can also be making a homemade offering to a deity, or even cleansing and protection your home!

Sea Witch

sea witches, also known as a water witches, work with the element water in order to connect with their magic. They feel a deep, powerful connection to the water—whether its the ocean, sea, or just a lake or pond, this powerful pull towards the water leads them to be more aware of their own magickal energies.

Sea witches have been found in many cultures throughout history, however, sea witches have a even deeper history in mythology. In Norse mythology, these witches were magickal, malevolent feminine spirits who often took the form of mermaids like creatures. These witches believe their power and bond with the sea and its tides was born from their worship to the moon. The triple goddess symbol holds particularly deep meaning for sea witches, as it represents the three phases of the monthly lunar cycle: waxing, full, and waning, of which effect the tides most.

✨We don’t own any rights to the photos used✨

[helliontherapscallion]

Who? (Forlorn Tale of Dionysus Part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2,843

(A/N): I’m not exactly sure if this will continue any further, this was just a fun little thing I had in my drafts for a while after some interesting convos in my discord server (which you totally should join, it’s a vibe). This is lowkey word vomit, but eh. This is all strictly platonic btw

“Michael, are you sure you saw a house out here? I really don’t think-” You were interrupted by your much shorter friend yanking on your sleeve to get your attention. You looked down at him in question and watched as he raised his hands.

‘I am sure I saw that house, (y/n)! It is here somewhere.’ 

You fiddled with the sleeves of your thick coat with unease, “alright, but if we don’t find it soon I wanna head back. Uncle Boo and Uncle Tubbo are probably going to start to worry.”

Michael huffed at the mention of his parents. You knew how overbearing they were, causing your friend to crave new experiences and adventures. You’d known him for a couple of years now and he was rebelling more with each passing day. You could relate slightly, Philza and Technoblade had hardly let you out of the house without another person to accompany you. You never really understood why, you were almost thirteen now so you should be able to explore what you want. 

An excited squeal left your friend’s mouth before he started to pull you towards something in the distance, startling you out of your trance. You matched his pace with ease and felt nervous excitement tingle in your chest. 

As you got closer, you could make out small details of the cabin. It was a simple small cabin built out of spruce planks with glass windows and a brick chimney, but you liked it. It strangely felt homey. 

You pulled Michael into a nearby shrub underneath a window and peered in. The interior was also as simplistic as the outside was, looking untouched and tidy as if nobody was living there. You could see that the ceilings were taller than average, perhaps a hybrid of some sort lived here? 

Michael tapped your shoulder, ‘it doesn’t look like anybody’s home right now. Let’s go in.’ 

You opened your mouth to object before the sight of his set jaw and his eyes dead set on something inside made you close it. You learned from experience that when he was this determined, there was no stopping him. You sighed, “fine, but the second we get caught, it was your idea.” 

You both made your way to the front door. Without a second thought, Michael twisted the doorknob and swung the door open. A startled snort left his throat as he stumbled inside, making you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He jabbed the side of your lower torso, ‘shut up, I thought it was going to be locked.’

He pulled you inside and you both explored the living room. Bookshelves and portraits lined the walls, a single large couch sat off to the side, and the fireplace mantle was lined with a few small golden hooks. Michael made a beeline towards it, admiring the metal. It seems that’s what he saw that made him so determined to get inside. You hoped that he wouldn’t steal them and explored the area further. 

The portraits on the walls were a slight shock to you, they all included some people that you could recognize; in one you could make out a picture of younger versions of Ranboo, Philza, Technoblade, and Niki. Technoblade and Philza were sparring with shining golden swords while Ranboo and Niki sat in the grass on a hill watching with interest. Maybe this was just one of their old cabins? 

You saw people that you didn’t recognize as well. Namely a cat hybrid with striking sapphire blue eyes, a man seemingly human (you say seemingly because your eyes caught sight of pointed ears) wearing a white bandana keeping his jet black hair out of his face, a tall man with green freckles and a creeper mask, an anthropomorphic diamond block with beady black eyes and a wide smile, and a man that looked strangely like Ghostbur except he was wearing a uniform of some sort. However, a demon quickly caught your eye and made your heart leap for joy. There was someone out there that was like you! 

The man looked kind, always wearing a cheery smile and occasionally waving at the camera. He was tall and lanky, always towering over the others by a considerable amount. That made sense, Philza had told you that demons were naturally very tall when you asked him why you were growing faster than Michael when the zombie piglin was two years older than you were. Large wings and horns akin to yours sprouted from his back and head respectively. If he wasn’t constantly smiling, you would’ve thought that he was malevolent. 

You heard the rapid footsteps of Michael’s boots behind you as you turned around. You bounced on the balls of your feet excitedly, “Michael look, another demon! Do you think he lives here?”

You watched as he shrugged and pulled you towards the kitchen. ‘I don’t know, but look! There’s another demon that looks exactly like you!’ 

On the kitchen table surrounded by various trinkets (bottles of wine, gold bricks, stale bread, and the decomposed remains of flower crowns and bouquets being the majority of the items) laid a framed picture of said demon lazily smiling and looking off to the side. Michael was right, they looked exactly like you except at least a decade older. Everything matched your physical features to a tee; from the red accents on their black wings to the way they smiled, it was like they were your clone. The only thing of yours that they were missing was the three circular birthmarks on your forehead. It was eerily uncanny. 

Your eyes widened before you snatched the picture off from the table, studying them further. If you squinted, you could see that there was someone barely in frame. You flipped the frame around and took out the picture, unfolding it. In the picture was your adopted father and adopted uncles and aunt. What was going on? If they knew the demon, why didn’t they ever tell you about them? 

‘Woah, that was smart. Do you think you might be related to them or something?’ He tilted his head before he perked up, ‘could they be one of your biological parents?’ 

“Maybe, but if they were, why didn’t my dad tell me about them? I… have a right to know about them, right?”

He nodded firmly, ‘you definitely do. It’s kind of fucked up they haven’t told you anything about them.’ 

“Yeah, it is. Do you think something bad happened to them?... Oh shit, is this a memorial?” You hurriedly refolded the picture and put it back into its frame. 

Michael’s eyes widened and flickered around the table at the trinkets before he fished out two gold bars from his pocket and placed them onto the table. You crossed your arms, “what the fuck man?” 

‘I thought they wouldn’t miss a few pieces of gold! You would’ve done the same thing if you were a piglin,’ he defended himself before he paused and shuddered, ‘we’re in a dead person’s house, that’s creepy… What if their ghost is right behind us?’ 

You spun around and put yourself slightly in front of Michael, your heart beating in your throat. Nothing was there. Michael snorted, making you slap his arm, “not cool, man.” 

You were about to stomp off until a piece of paper caught your eye. It was a drawing of this person done in messy purple crayon, probably done by a very young child. It was signed by a Michael. 

You turned to the wheezing zombie piglin and patiently waited for him to stop laughing. When he did, you showed him the picture, “did you draw this? Did you know them?”

He scrunched up his brow in concentration, squinting at the paper. Eventually he shook his head slowly, ‘I don’t think so. At least I don’t remember drawing it… This is getting weird.’ 

You nodded in agreement, putting the drawing back onto the counter. You walked towards the stairs and climbed them. They creaked under your foot loudly, a part of you was scared that you would fall through them. It was clear they haven’t been used in some time. 

They led to a small loft, the ceiling coming to a point far overhead. A part of you was glad that this stranger (relative? Parent?) was a demon, it wasn’t often that you found lofts that fit all six and a half feet of you. 

Like the rest of the house, it was very simplistic. A gigantic bed laid in the center of the furthest wall, made neatly with multiple fluffy blankets, part you was tempted to catapult yourself onto it. On the nightstand next to it sat a redstone lamp and a frosted glass of water, cracks spider webbing up the sides presumably from the cold. 

You opened the lone drawer and discovered a book. Upon further inspection, you discovered that it was a journal with the name (y/n) written inside the cover. So this person had your name as well as your looks? This merely raised more questions than answers, so you slid the book into a pocket in your coat to read later. Under the book laid another picture of them posing with the strange group of people from the portraits downstairs. The de- (y/n) looked younger there. On the back, the word family was written and it was dated to be about twenty years old. You also pocketed the picture.

Michael walked over to the window and looked out at the vast tundra only to squeal in alarm. He ran over to you and pulled you downstairs. You looked out the window only to yelp when you saw a few crows standing on the window sill staring at you with their beady eyes. 

You and Michael ran out of the house as fast as the both of you could, the snow being slightly tough to run through for the five and a half foot tall zombie piglin. You could hear the crows following you overhead. After a while of running, you both finally got back to Snowchester and raced past Ranboo and Tubbo. You hid in Michael’s room with the curtains tightly drawn. 

You sat on his bed with your legs crossed and your back pressed up against the headboard. You let your head bang against the wall and you ran your hand down your face. “We’re fucked, dude. We’re literally so fucked.”

‘Uncle Phil’s still out of town so it’ll probably be a few days until they find out.’ Michael plopped next to you, panting and trying to regain his breath. “Still, we’re gonna be in so 

much trouble for going that far out. I didn’t think my dad’s crows were still here.”

‘Might as well read the journal you found before we get grounded.’

You nodded and took out the journal, flipping it open to the first page. You both read the journal until it was dark outside and Michael was passed out on your shoulder. Subconsciously, you wrapped your wing around him as you read the journal. 

The other (y/n) acted like you did for the most part, the only differences between you two was the lack of swearing and the fact that they felt alone even when they were surrounded by people. Your family’s names were dropped several times, especially when they were talking about ‘The Syndicate’. The code names they used were after various Greek myths, leading you to believe that Technoblade was one of the founders of the anarchist group. 

You had learned that their family (potentially your family?) was strangely possessed by an egg and that they were previously possessed by said egg. They had a brother named Sapnap (your potential uncle?) that helped them escape to the tundra. It was there that they found the Syndicate, reminding you of the found family tropes you would read in books. The last journal entry detailed their last mission, how they were going to destroy the Eggpire from within and get their family back. That entry in particular gave you chills, even someone with half a brain could tell what happened to them after that. 

By the time you had closed the book, it was dawn and the sun was peeking out from behind the closed curtains. You shook Michael awake and stretched out your aching body. Your neck muscles protested movement, sending a wave of pain across the area. 

‘Damn, did you stay up all night reading that?’ 

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I? I needed to find out about my biological parent somehow. I just- nothing makes sense, Michael.” You growled out, your voice deepening and distorting slightly as your frustration rose. 

‘Chill! You’ll figure it out soon, let’s just focus on staying under the radar.’ 

“Too late for that.” 

You both jumped and fell off the bed as you heard Philza’s voice. In the doorway, Philza stood with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Technoblade by his side, all looking equally angry and disappointed. Next to you, Michael shrunk in on himself and smiled sheepishly. He was about to raise his hands to sign, but a pointed look from Tubbo next to him told him that there was no getting out of this one. 

Behind the anger, you could tell that something changed about the way the four were looking at you. You couldn’t tell what emotion they were hiding, whether it be wariness, longing, sadness, or just more unleashed anger, but you could tell that they knew something you didn’t. If the frustration that overcame you when you were reading the journal at the lack of questions answered burned inside of you, then what you felt now was a blazing inferno. 

“We’re going home, grab your stuff (y/n).” 

After a short staredown with the older man, you huffed in anger and gathered your things into your bag. The entire time, tense silence filled the room. Your hands were shaking with the rage you felt searing every inch of you. You could hear the sharp flicking of your pointed tail cutting through the air and occasionally hitting objects near you. 

When you were done you stomped over to your adopted family and shouldered between Philza and Technoblade, speed walking down the hallway. They quickly caught up with you after saying a quick apology and a goodbye, Technoblade grabbing your arm and holding it in a vice grip. 

They led you out of the mansion and into the harsh winds of the tundra. It wasn’t until Snowchester was far off in the distance that Technoblade shook your arm, “what the hell were you thinking, going into someone else’s house like that! You don’t know who lived there, you could’ve gotten yourself and Michael killed!” 

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?” You ripped your arm out of his hold and spoke in a low voice, struggling to contain your full rage. “I have a goddamned right to know about them.” 

“...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Philza muttered out and resumed walking back towards your house. “You’re grounded when we get back, no flying or dueling lessons for two weeks.” 

“Of course you know what I’m talking about, Dad! Why are you hiding them from me? I have a right to know about my biological parent even if they’re dead!” 

They both halted in their tracks and glanced at each other in slight confusion. “What-”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about. Gods, I can’t believe you thought I’d never find out,��� you laughed sardonically as your hand subconsciously gripped your growing horn. “(Y/n)! You know, the demon that lived in that house? The one that looks exactly like me?! Does that ring a bell or do I have to show you this?” 

You rummaged in your pocket and ripped out the picture, shoving it into Philza’s hands. Technoblade looked over his shoulder at what you gave him. You watched as their expressions turned blank when they saw the demon in the picture. 

Minutes passed with them continuing to stare down at the picture and you were slowly getting impatient. “Why did you never tell me about them? Why are you keeping me from them?!” 

Without looking up at you, Philza mumbled, “you weren’t supposed to find out about them. You were never supposed to find out.” 

“Do you have any idea how ambiguous that is? Just tell me who they are!” You could feel your eye twitch as your frustration grew. 

You could see the internal conflict on Philza’s face growing by the second before he dipped his head downwards and stalked off in the opposite direction of the house. You spread your wings to chase him in the air, but Technoblade’s hand on your upper arm stopped you from lifting off. 

When you looked up at him, the look of regret and sorrow etched into his features caught you by surprise. “Let him go, he needs to do some thinking… (y/n), do you know what reincarnation is?”

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[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 16

A/N: Y’all chapter 16 IS HERE!!!!! Well this was a difficult chapter to write but it includes a fluffy ending! 🙂 I hope you lovelies enjoy it and feedback is greatly appreciated! And as always, have a beautiful day and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! ☺️ 💕💕💕💕

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, mentions of past trauma and abuse, blood and gore, mentions of past torture, scars

There was still daylight outside when you had roused from your nap, the sunshine emerging through the gap in the tall closed curtains just enough to provide the living room with some light and warmth. Yet another nightmare terrorized your dreams in the few hours of your slumber, the very same one that haunted you the night before in regards to the scars on your back. Whenever will these night terrors cease to exist? Shall you ever hope to one day have the fortuity of being able to rest your head and not have to wake up in absolute terror and dread.

You laid there on the couch, hands resting on your stomach as you stared up at the coffered ceiling, your eyes tracing the grooves along the panels as you reflected on what had occurred not very long ago. Which reminded you, you would have to check on your wound soon, hoping that your Olympian genes had at least allowed it to heal. And while you were at it, you could really use a bath. Sam was disappointedly no longer nestled next to you, leaving you in an empty coldness even though a blanket had been thrown over your sleeping form. Thoughts of divulging the story behind your scars invaded your mind like a dark stormy cloud hovering above your head, ready to rain down with feelings of fear, guilt, and shame. Sam had warned you about the dangers of keeping yourself in a dark hole. How shutting yourself off from the rest of the world and leaving your mind to the negative thoughts that ate at you like a blood-sucking parasite would slowly devour every last ounce of you that made you alive. It was no different than jumping into piranha infested waters. You had to tell them the truth about you soon, even if it was piece by piece, like putting together a puzzle to reveal the whole picture. However, you felt a sense of foreboding deep within your spine upon when the time would come. Seeing the whole picture only meant seeing the real you. And you couldn’t help but feel they’d look at you with the utmost horror indescribable to mortals, like the monster you were. You couldn’t blame them if they never wished to see you again. You’d run from that part of you if you could.

You got up with a soft groan, your hair was disarray and your body was stiff and sore as you looked around the dim room to see Sam sat on a stool by the kitchen area staring down at his laptop, the light from the screen Illuminating the blank expression on his face that masked a layer of concern behind it. Sam’s heart was torn from the moment he laid his eyes on your back, he could still feel the way his heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of those jagged lines. The picture was imbedded in his mind like the first time you witness something upsetting. Sam could almost count the scars and map it out. This explained why you never wore a tank top and stuck with t-shirts. You had hid this from everyone since the beginning.

Bucky stood off to the other side of the room with his hands in his pockets. You noticed how his brows were knitted together, his eyes which were usually bright, now held a shadow over them as stared off into the distance. Little did you know, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. The image still haunted his thoughts like a demonic spirit. Bucky had felt this malevolent and nefarious atmosphere surround him in that moment he first saw the slashes that lined your back, like a dense fog concealing something evil lurking behind the mist. In the days that he had known you, he believed you to be one of the most caring souls he had the luck of coming across in all his years, you reminded him of Steve in some ways. Who could have done this to you? Whatever did you do to deserve such cruelty?

“Y/n?” Bucky’s face lightened up as he walked over to you to see how you were holding up once he saw you sitting up on the couch. “How are you feeling?” He crouched down next to you, laying his hand on top of your bare foreman. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain you must have been in, to get shot and walk it off as if nothing had happened. He wished you had told him, instead of trying to hide it. It ended up doing you more harm than good.

“Better. Still a bit weak, but I think I’m gaining my strength back.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand as you lost yourself in his eyes, blushing under his gaze from how close he was to you and to the way his hand was on the bare skin of your arm. They had been the first thing you noticed about him, those bright steel blue orbs contrasted against his dark lashes that seemed to pierce right through you like icy daggers. You found them to be striking, as if you were staring into the skies of an oncoming storm. However, that was until you saw the curl of his lips and the crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes, it was then his boyish smile that completely transcended his appearance. And when he smiled at you, you could never seem to pull yourself away. It was that same charming smile that captivated you since 1942.

“That’s good to hear.” Sam spoke up after hearing your answer, looking up at you with a warm smile. “I knew you’d pull through.”

“You have too much faith in me Sam.” You shook your head with a soft chuckle. Your ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom doors opening, and when you turned towards it, your eyes nearly widened at the sight before you. There in the vicinity of the entrance to the bathroom stood Zemo fresh out of the shower wearing a bathrobe, his bare chest visible from under the collar where a thin gold chain hung loosely around his neck. His skin glistened from the water droplets that still clung to him, like the dew that formed on blades of grass and the surrounding plant-life the morning after a cold and misty night. He carried with him a small towel, using it to dry his damp hair, the loose strands falling over the side of his face. Your breath was caught in your throat as you watched him go over to the kitchen area, leaving behind a trail of his cologne as he went. The scent was much sharper now from being just recently applied and caused the hairs on your arms to stand up, encompassing you in a haze of this medley of fragrances. Your nose vivified from your sense of smell that picked up on the hints of cedar, fig, grapefruit, orange, pepper, vetiver and ylang-ylang. He smelled incredible.

In this very moment, you were beyond thankful you were the only one with telepathic abilities, due to certain uninhibited images that played within the walls of your mind. Your eyes flickered down to the belt of the robe that was tied around his torso, your fingers itching to untie the one sole thing that with a single tug, would leave him for you to behold and admire. You turned your gaze to the floor, your face burning along with your thoughts that seemed to swallow you whole. By the gods and the pits of Tartarus, were you really lusting after that man? If you had went back in time and told yourself that you would one day be infatuated with and dare say even be consumed with desire for none other than Helmut Zemo himself, you would have stabbed yourself and thrown your body into Tartarus with your own two hands to prevent such a thing from happening. You needed a shower, a cold one at that.

“Well, I probably should have said this in the beginning.” Bucky cleared his throat as he had now sat next to you on the couch, you didn’t even notice his hand leave yours and you prayed he didn’t see the way you were drinking in Zemo. Fortune was in your favor, owing to the fact that Bucky had not noticed at all. “But the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

You snapped your head towards Bucky upon hearing him say what you were ashamed to have felt a bit of dismay towards. You would be a fool to admit you didn��t see it coming. You had known the Wakandans were after him since the beginning, you said so yourself when you first saw him at your front door that day, hidden behind Bucky and Sam. Who would have known those words would eventually leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Were you followed?” Sam asked, his head shooting up from his phone after he heard what Bucky had announced.

“No.” Bucky shook his head.

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo questioned with a look of doubt.

“‘Cause I know when I’m being followed.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.”

“Hey, you shut it.” Sam snapped at Zemo. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.”

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo retaliated as he went behind the table, opening up the cupboards and peering at the items inside.

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam expressed as he followed Zemo with his head.

“Sam.” Bucky spoke up as he stared at an article on his phone, making you look at him in curiosity.

“What?”

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”

Your brows furrowed when you heard what happened. What in the realms was this girl doing? Did she just cross the line?

“What? What’s the damage?” Sam looked stunned upon hearing the news.

“Eleven injured, three dead. They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.”

You sighed, shaking your head from what you heard. “This isn’t good.”

“She’s getting worse. I have the will to complete this mission. Do the two of you?” Zemo turned to the two of them.

“She’s just a kid.” Sam defended, none of this was sitting right with him.

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Zemo tried to point out. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”

“You’re talking about our friends.” Sam glared.

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky corrected Sam’s statement.

“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.”

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her. Or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo.” Bucky mentioned. “The serum never corrupted Steve.”

“Touché.” Zemo pointed with a cookie on his finger from the jar he pulled out. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo went back to open up another cupboard.

“Yes.”

“You guys.” You groaned, making them turn their attention on you as you leaned back into the couch, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I hope you know that arguing isn’t going to help the situation at all. I agree with Sam, we should try to convince her to see the wrong in her ways first, try to get her to back down. Hopefully she’ll change her mind. But......if she doesn’t........”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “You’re not going to stab her.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” You stuck your hand out. “I was going to say throw her ass in jail if she persists. She’s already killed three and injured seven.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You’re acting like I’ve never signed peace treaties before Sam. My sister Athena and I used to be diplomats, ambassadors for our planet. Our father would send us off to other worlds to build alliances. Let me tell you from my personal experience from the people I have dealt with. Someone who is so dead set in their ways and begins to see themselves as a form of liberator or savior on the right path, you gotta do a hell lot of convincing to get them to see clearly.”

“Karli may be different.” Sam looked at you.

“Yes, she may or may not be. It’s a 50/50 chance. But when you live as long as me you start to see similarities, patterns. History tends to repeat itself.”

“So what do we do?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well. We take this with a diplomatic approach. I think you should go talk to her. You’re good at that.”

Sam nodded his head at your words, his eyes deep in thought.

“If you guys will excuse me.” You stood up from the couch. “I’m going to go check on my wound and wash up.”

“There should be some spare towels and robes.” Zemo gestured towards the bathroom, to which you thanked him with a nod.

You closed the bathroom doors behind you, locking it with a click before removing your articles of clothing and the gauze that was wrapped around your midsection. The wound had already healed, leaving behind a raised scar in its place, another mark to add to your collection. You shivered against the chilly air of the bathroom, your toes curled against the tile floors that were cool to the touch as you rubbed your arms. You went over to turn on the shower, running your hand under the water to check on the temperature before stepping in, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh the moment the warm water touched your skin.

Memories of your planet occupied your mind, filling you with a sense of solace as you remembered the beautiful lush land and the magnificent creatures that roamed them, scattered with tall mountains and waterfalls, lakes and streams, and the exquisite flowers that smelled absolutely heavenly whenever you passed them. You missed the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian architecture of the towering buildings and the tents that lined the local markets that you used to stroll through wearing a chiton and a pair of sandals, the markets always bustling with merchants, philosophers, painters, sculptors, and craftsmen of almost every kind. You missed the different smells of the food and spices that revitalized your senses and made your mouth water. And you missed the local hot springs, especially the secluded one you discovered on one of your walks. It was the perfect place for you to unwind, especially after a hard day of training where your muscles ached. The area was surrounded by plant life which offered you privacy, allowing you to immerse yourself in the waters in solitude and peace with a view that overlooked the ancient cities below you. When the sun went to rest over the horizon and the moon took command over the skies, the water itself became luminescent under the stars, as if someone had thrown handfuls of aquamarine jewels into it, which was stunning when complemented with the starry night sky. Gods, you missed your home, you missed the past. Apart from all those wonders that brightened up your eyes whenever you beheld them, you missed the familiar faces of the people you have come to know there. You missed the locals, and you missed your family. Your heart ached, it felt as if your soul was grappling with a pervasive emptiness that lurked in its dark and unexplored corners. An intense yearning overwhelmed you, a sentimental longing for the past and the things that were.

You sighed, shutting off the water and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape before stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry yourself off before slipping on a clean pair of clothes. Your hair was still damp as you wrapped a towel around it, opening the bathroom doors back up to see Bucky, Zemo, and Sam in a conversation.

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.” Sam elaborated.

You stopped, furrowing your brows at Sam, only managing to catch a snippet of the sentence. “Why are you talking about tits?”

“What?” Sam looked at you. “No not tits, my TT.”

“What about your tiddies?” You quirked.

“No my TT. TEE-TEE.”

“Your TT?” Bucky squinted at him.

“Yeah, my TT, yeah.” Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed that no one got what he was saying.

“Who is your TT?”

“Fine.” Sam sighed. “When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.”

“Sounds plausible.” You nodded, heading over to the kitchen to grab yourself a cold glass of water.

“Worth a shot.” Bucky noted.

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo accentuated before tossing the three of you some candy. “Turkish delight. Irresistible.”

You caught the one Zemo tossed over to you, staring at the cubed piece of paper wrapped candy in your hands before looking up at Zemo with a raised brow. “Uh.....thanks.” You walked over to the couch where Bucky sat, sitting down next to him and popping the candy in your mouth after removing the wrapper.

“How’s the bullet wound?” Sam nodded towards you.

“It’s healed, thanks for asking.”

It was now or never.

“So uh......guys.” You cleared your throat, your nerves causing you torment like tiny little pinpricks over your skin. “About the uh............about the scars you saw on my back.”

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Bucky spoke softly after noticing how your voice shook, your eyes were glued to your hands as you picked at the skin on your fingers and palms.

“No.” You shook your head. “I can’t keep this hidden forever.” You sighed, taking in a deep breath to prepare yourself as the men watched you, silent as the grave as they listened attentively to what you had to say. “Long ago, back in Olympus when I had just reached adulthood, I used to be a diplomat for my father, as you already know. Well, that wasn’t my only duty. I was also an assassin, his.........personal executioner. I would be sent on missions to other worlds to take out tyrants, oppressors, the absolute heinous of society. In the beginning, it was for the health of the innocent, to unshackle the chains of injustice and cruelty. But then one day, Zeus wanted me to assassinate a king who had done no harm towards his people. At first, I couldn’t understand his reasoning on having me complete this mission, until it all clicked. I started to see the truth behind Zeus’s aspirations, his....ulterior motive. I had been completely oblivious to his twisted ambition and lust for power. I had never been so vexed with anyone and myself. I felt ridden with guilt, telling myself I should have caught on to his true intentions far earlier. So I confronted him about it and laid down the sword he gave me, not wanting anything to do with it. I told him what he was doing was wrong, and that I did not want to be a part of his path to reign of terror. Zeus became furious and tried to accuse me of treason before locking me up in the dungeons. I had never seen him with that kind of rage before. I was terrified to see my father act that way and hadn’t slept a wink that night in the cell. The very next day was my public punishment, one that Hera herself picked out. So his guards dragged me out to the stands that afternoon, the place where they held public shaming and punishments.”

You stopped, gathering yourself as you wiped away at the tears that fell down your cheeks. You could feel Bucky reach his hand out towards you so you grabbed it in return, clutching it with dear life as if it was the only thing that reminded you that you were here, not back in that traumatic moment, but here on earth with 3 men that would do absolutely anything for your safety and happiness. You choked back a sob as you continued. “They tore open the back of my dress, leaving me bare from the waist up for all to see before tying my wrists to the wooden post. I had never felt so humiliated and frightened my entire life. And then they whipped me, over and over again to the point I could no longer stand, the only thing keeping me up was the rope. My dress became soaked with the blood from my wounds and so did the wooden floorboards beneath me. I eventually fell unconscious from the pain, it was too much for me to bear. I was left there for the remainder of the day, left as an example of what happens to those who betray Zeus. When my uncle Hades, Athena, Artemis and some of my other siblings heard what had happened, they rushed to my aid, enraged at what was done to me. Athena and Artemis took me in to their home and tried to tend to my wounds there, but they had already festered. I came to find out later that the rope they whipped me with was laced with a poison so that my wounds wouldn’t heal properly, so that they’d remain to be a constant reminder of my actions.”

The men were silent as you finished telling your story, their faces only fitting the description of horror as they tried to process the inhumanity that was inflicted on you by the very people you trusted. They couldn’t bring themselves to give you words of comfort. No amount of words and speeches could help you or undo what was done. The men’s hearts wrenched as they could almost share the pain you had felt. If your father wasn’t already dead, they would have killed the scumbag himself. Bucky had hugged you in that moment, letting you cry into his shoulder as Sam had come over to you as well, wrapping his arms around you as he hugged you from behind. You sat there engulfed between Sam and Bucky as you cried, your tears and your confession representing the weight that was now lifted off your shoulders. You no longer had to hide the scars, your story was told. Zemo still stood by the kitchen, his knuckles white from gripping the counter, his face turned in the opposite direction. One look at you would tear him apart, he would drop everything and rush over to you this instant to be able to hold you in his arms. He’d let you cry onto him forever if need be. You didn’t deserve that, you didn’t deserve any of it.

You went for a stroll that night after the sun had set. Bucky and Sam offered to accompany you due to the state you were in but you declined. You needed to be alone for a while. Retelling your story still rattled you as if you had relived that moment once more. You headed off to the nearest park, laying down on the grass as you stared up at the night sky. The cool wind brushed against your cheeks like an icy caress as you closed your eyes, the blades of grass tickling the sides of your face, losing yourself in your surroundings before the faint sound of footsteps against the soft grass interrupted you. You sat up, turning your head to see Zemo standing behind you.

“Zemo? What are you doing here?”

“Thought I might join you, if you’d allow me.”

“...............sure.” You watched him from the corner of your eye as he sat down beside you, wearing that fur collared coat of his. You pulled your knees up to your chest, clasping your hands together at the front before staring off into the distance.

Zemo’s eyes flickered over to your profile, studying your facial expressions and the hollowness that was held in your eyes. He still could not get your narrative out of his head, wincing at the image of the excruciating pain and anguish you must have felt at the time. He could not imagine what your back must of resembled in that moment. He wished he was there, so that he may have rescued you and went after those who ever dared to do you harm. “So, what brings you out here?”

“I wanted to see the stars. I heard there might be a meteor shower tonight.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, surprisingly. Still a bit unnerved, but I’m think I’m doing better.”

“I’m terribly sorry about what happened to you. It should never have occurred in the first place.”

“Don’t apologize, you had nothing to do with it.” You sighed, shivering as a strong breeze passed through you.

Zemo noticed your movement and turned in your direction. “Do you need my coat?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

You watched as Zemo slipped off his coat before leaning over to drape it around your shoulders. You averted your eyes from him and turned your head away from how close he was. You shivered once more, but this time from his warm breath that grazed across your cheek as he adjusted the fur collar so that it fit snug around your neck and head to provide you with as much comfort as he could. The way he handled you so tenderly made you blush, as if you were a delicate rose, a precious gem that if held incorrectly would be considered a crime, a disgrace to your existence. Then there it was again, that cologne of his that had you feeling a certain way. You could still smell it off him, and now that you wore his coat, the sharp citrusy and spicy scent completely engulfed you as if you had been transported back to the markets of the ancient empires. Zemo gazed down at you from where he was seated, you didn’t even have to look up at him to feel your face heat up, that’s how much of an effect he had over you. The way he looked at you made you feel vulnerable and small. You were the goddess of witchcraft, and yet, here you were, completely bewitched and transfixed by him as if he had cast an enchantment over you.

“Schatzi.” Zemo whispered as he gently laid a finger under your chin to bring your face to him.

You stared at him with wide eyes, hidden behind a veil of sorrow and regret along with your aching and yearning heart. The Wakandans would have him soon, then you might not ever have the chance of seeing him again. It was now or never. “Zemo I.......I want to apologize for that night. I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t-“

“Schatzi.” Zemo held your face with both of his surprisingly soft pampered hands as he caressed your cheek. “There’s no need to apologize. I would never wish for you to be uncomfortable.”

“Why? Why are you so kind towards me? Don’t you hate the avengers, people with unordinary abilities?” You questioned, desperately wanting to know why he treated you with respect, despite his moral compass in regards to super soldiers and such. You would’ve conjectured that you would be on his list of people to eliminate.

“Because.” Zemo stopped to push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have shown nothing but kindness to those around you and to my people. When I first saw you, you struck me as the silent and menacing one, you spoke very little and I thought you to be dangerous. But then I saw what you did after the attack from Ultron, how you stayed behind to help clean up what was left and find any remaining survivors. Your efforts towards my country will not be forgotten. You have a beautiful and caring soul y/n, one that shines brighter than any I’ve seen. After all that you’ve been through and all that you have done, you too deserve kindness in return.”

You smiled at his words, placing your hands on top of Zemo’s as he still cradled your face. You turned your head slightly to place a soft kiss to his wrist, eliciting a small gasp from his lips. The two of you had been touch deprived for so long, without a single soul to hold and kiss, that a small action such as this was enough to send you both over the edge. You gazed into his eyes once more as you placed your hand against the side of his neck, your eyes trailing down to his lips as you traced the smooth shaven skin of his jaw with your thumb. Zemo felt his heart stop in his chest from your gesture and the way you looked at him. You looked absolutely ethereal, wearing his coat and sitting in close proximity of him under the stars, the moonlight making you radiant in parallel to the the silver orb itself. Your heart palpitated in your chest, nearly breaking out of your rib cage and becoming the only thing you could hear as you finally mustered up the courage to do what you have longed to do.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned in with your lips slightly parted as Zemo did the same, your noses grazing against each together like the fallen leaves caught in the winds of autumn as you rested your foreheads together. Your breathing quivered, your body trembling from the sudden forethought of what was to come as the two of you hovered not even a centimeter apart, your lips brushing against his as your faltering breaths fanned each other’s faces, both of you too tense to make the first move. Zemo pulled away unexpectedly, causing your heart to drop and leaving your face to the coldness of the night air, which made you knit your brows together. Zemo chuckled softly at the disheartened expression that marked your features before tilting his head towards you once again, his hands never leaving the sides of your face as he pressed a feathery kiss to your forehead and each of your closed eyelids, placing another to the rounds of your cheeks, and lastly the tip of your nose as if he was mapping out what he found beautiful about you, before pressing his lips to the area you most desired them to be.

You gasped at the touch, both of you equally startled from the intimate gesture and your bodies rigid before melting in the kiss you shared. The kiss was innocent and sweet, bringing about a warmth that flowed through your veins like the rays of the sun on a warm summer day. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart beneath your palm through the fabric of his turtleneck. His lips were firm, yet soft and warm and the taste of expensive wine, cherry blossom tea, and Turkish delights still lingered on them. Zemo barely moved against the chaste kiss, luxuriating in the taste of your lips, the traces of coffee, caramel, dark chocolate, and pomegranates left him fully succumbed to your touch, not wanting to overstep your boundaries and allowing you to be the one to made the decision. The two of you remained motionless, frozen in time, resembling baroque marble statues sculpted by the hands of Gian Lorenzo Bernini. You compelled yourself to separate from his lips after what gave the impression of being an entirety of lifetimes, but, be that as it may, it had only been a matter of seconds. A soft smile formed on the curves of your lips as you gazed up at him with flushed cheeks, releasing the breath you had caged in this entire time before reconnecting your lips to his once more.

Your hands made their way up to wrap around the back of his neck, softly grazing the hairs on the back of his head while his slipped down to the curve of your back, pulling you gingerly to him as your chest was pressed flush against his. The smell of Zemo’s fresh citrusy cologne and your warmer, darker perfume reminiscent of castles, vampires and the Victorian era, merged together to create an aroma one would only describe as intoxicating. The kiss became more passionate, more ardent as you molded into each other like melted candle wax, as if you had been designed specially for each other as would a lock and key, it was absolutely breathtaking. You couldn’t resist the soft, sighing moan that escaped your lips from the feeling of serenity that washed over you, a sensation similar to that numbness that swept over your body right before you entered a deep state of sleep. The way your lips moved against one other and the way you held on to one another as if you’d wake up the moment you let go, wasn’t so much provoked by a desire for lust, but rather a cavernous desperation for the ability to feel, a craving for sentiment, to be able to find worth and significance buried in your souls within the walls of this hollow world. But more than any of these, this kiss was your way of professing the deep affection you held for each other, a testament to the sparking of the forging of your souls.

You broke the kiss after what felt like an eternity of euphoria, pressing your forehead against Zemo’s as you caressed the line of his jaw, a soft smile formed on your lips as your hearts now drummed in sync. You thought you could never feel such a thing again, that to be able to hold and kiss someone again would be impossible, you were incredibly wrong, and you had never been more happy about it. Zemo was left breathless, scrambling to put his mind together since he couldn’t process a single thought after what he experienced. Kissing you was unlike anything he had ever felt, he could only describe it as otherworldly, transcendent. How someone like you, a goddess, a princess, could ever manage to return his feelings, he would never know. But there was one thing Zemo was sure of, he could never grow tired of the moments spent with you. Truth be told, it only left him yearning for more. Zemo pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling you down to the grass with him. You let out a quiet giggle from his actions, pulling Zemo’s coat closer to you and interlacing your fingers with his as you laid your head on his chest, your ear pressed up to where his heart was. Zemo’s arm was wrapped around you, his fingers brushing your back tenderly, feeling the ridges of your scars as he traced them with his fingers through the fabric of your sweater while you listened to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. The two of you stared up at the stars and constellations, watching how the night sky lit up with the meteoroids that entered the earth’s atmosphere, leaving behind trails of white and painting the skies in streaks of a celestial waterfall. You hadn’t spoken a word to each other yet, you didn’t need to. Being in each other’s presence was enough. Your gestures of affection that you had just shared with each other, already voiced whatever words you had been meaning to say.

Tag List: @Little-baby-vixen @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @awhorewithissues @thehornyles @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic @hargreevesd @death-is-beautiful

[the-lady-writes-what]

24. Enji Todoroki

          Theme: Monster hunter

          Kinks: Outdoor sex, rope play, voyeurism (if you squint), oral (giving), face fucking, cream pie, slight breeding kink (it’s Enji we’re talking about, come on)

Masterlist

This was supposed to come out on Saturday, but if you read a post I wrote earlier I’m visiting my boyfriend whom I haven’t seen a long while. This one and the next chapter is going to running late, but I plan on catching up with the rest so that everything else will be posted on schedule. 

With that being said, ENDEAVOR FUCKERS COME GET YOUR FOOD! 

EDIT: 04/26/2021 Idiots really be out here not paying attention to when a character starts giving somebody a blowjob and they start talking. Like you can’t talk with your mouth full. It’s me. I’m idiots.

You had to crane your neck to look at the man. He was taller—no. That wasn't right. He was taller than tall. He was enormous. When you left to answer the door to your cottage, you didn't know what or who you would be expecting. Certainly not this. Hair red as flames, eyes the sea's color after a storm, and a body completely encased in hard muscle. The stranger was clad in leather armor and a wool coat. He wore a grimace that would make babies weep. 

"C-Can I help you, sir?" 

"Enji, here! Let me through. I can address the situation better than you can!"

Another stranger brushed past the one standing in your doorway. He was blonde, shorter than his partner, and held himself differently than the other. 

"Hi, I'm Keigo, and this is my boss, Enji. We heard a rumor that you could help us," said the blonde stranger. 

"W-What can I help you with?" You stuttered. 

"You see, we were in the area—"

"We hunt monsters," said the enormous one, Enji.

Blood drained from your face. 'Monster hunters'? They hunted monsters—vampires, ghouls, werewolves, succubi and incubi, and, of course, witches. You slowly backed away from the door. 

"Relax, we're not here for you. There aren't any complaints or bounties out on you," said Keigo.

"There are only two kinds of witches, dead ones and the ones who haven't lost their humanity." Enji's eyes looked at you up and down. "And you don't appear to be the former."

"What my boss means to say is that you are the kind of witch who helps people. You don't summon ghosts or dig up graves of the recently deceased for their bones, do you?" 

You rapidly shook your head. "NO!" 

"We were recommended your services from someone in the local village. They said you were an expert in this particular matter," said Keigo. 

Without invitation, the pair of hunters crossed the threshold of your door. You ran to the kitchen to put a kettle on the fire. If your guests were going to barge in and make themselves comfortable, you were at least going to make yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves. 

"Twenty miles from here," said Enji, "A trickster spirit has been causing havoc. Farm animals have gone missing and later found strewn on top of barns. Guts missing. Women are getting pregnant at the same time without any one of them committing adultery. Shrines and courthouses have had their doors blocked by piles of manure. They say it's a malevolent spirit brought along by a tradesman. They also say that your protection and banishing spells are the best in the area."

"Well, I don't know about that," you said. 

Your palms were getting clammy with sweat. You made three cups of tea and set an antique tray on the coffee table between you. You focused on pouring an even amount in each cup though you could not ignore the pair of eyes lingering on you. You could feel a pair of eyes on your every movement, but you couldn't tell which one was staring. You pushed two cups towards the men and settled yourself down in a cozy armchair, taking your tea with you. You expected the monster hunters to rudely throw your tea over their shoulders or inspect the drink and the cups and the saucers to boot. But they didn't. Keigo and Enji were perfectly comfortable and trusted you enough to drink without suspicion of you trying to kill them or turn them into animals. 

"Has anyone seen this creature, because I've never heard anything like it," you said. 

"Unfortunately, no," said Enji. He sipped his tea with the air of a gentleman. He certainly didn't look like one because of his size and his leathers, but he pretended to be one as he drank your tea. 

"The thing is, trickster spirits usually dismember cattle or get women pregnant, but rarely do both," you said. "So, you might be looking at one trickster and a hustler who's telling the women he knocks up to blame the creature."

"It can't be both?" Asked Keigo.

You shook your head again. "It's either one or the other. Disemboweling cattle and impregnating random mortal women are two different natures. I will eat my broomstick if I turn out to be wrong."

"How soon can you pack?" It was Enji this time. 

You furrowed your brows. You glanced over at Keigo, who seemed equally surprised. This hadn't been something they planned together. 

"Are you expecting me to go with you?" 

"We can't cast spells like you can, and you seem to be more knowledgeable about the subject than us."

"But I—" You started to protest only for Enji to stop you. 

"You'll be compensated for your troubles," said Enji.

He fixed you with a piercing look. You swallowed hard and sank into your chair.

"Can I finish my tea first?" You took a sip.

Enji gave you two hours to get things together. You made a pack that should last you a couple of weeks. You didn't know if Enji realized that you had no horse and would have to walk all the way with them. They probably had horses but weren't going to share. By the end of this, you were going to wring as much compensation out of them as you could. You secured all the windows, hid all your valuables in the floorboards, and locked the front door. You heard a pair of horses neighing at your gates and sighed to yourself. 

Enji and Keigo were getting ready to hop on. Enji grabbed your bag and handed it off to Keigo, who tied it with his saddlebag. To compensate for his large size, Enji's horse was a Clydesdale, a huge horse with a neatly trimmed mane. Enji held his hand out to you. Confused, you took it. His large hands held unto your waist, and he lifted you unto the saddle without effort. Like you weighed no more than a couple of grapes. Then, Enji sat down in the saddle with you. Your legs dangled off the side rather helplessly. You looked behind Enji's massive shoulder over at Keigo, who looked just as confused as you and shrugged his shoulders. Enji pulled he reigns of his horse and brought it to a trot. 

That night, the three of you sat around a fire. Enji stood up and said something about getting extra firewood. You waited until he was outside of earshot. 

"What the hell is the deal with your partner? Is he always like this?"

"He is the way that he is because of his past. He used to be a bureaucrat if you can believe it," said Keigo.

"I don't."

"It's the truth whether you believe me or not. Enji spent most of his life kissing ass and licking boots. He pushed his children away because of his politicking. Drove his wife insane. One day, he had to travel to the far east of the kingdom because his king wanted him to, despite his family's protests. Enji went anyway. When he came back, his wife was dead, and his children moved away. He turned to fighting monsters, the kind that killed his wife, to make up for the bullshit he'd done. His kids still don't talk to him, but he makes sure they're doing alright."

You stared at Keigo.

"You asked why he's like that, and I told you. Sorry if it's over-sharing," said Keigo. 

Enji returned with a bundle of wood. His back was turned towards you as he rekindled the bonfire. You remembered how his eyes looked at you. What did he see?

Dawn came sooner than you thought. You were on the road again, and by late afternoon you arrived at your destination. The village was smaller than yours and was warier of your abilities. You salted the roof of every building, including the ones that still had dried blood on them from the last time an animal carcass had been dumped. You placed a charm over every door, front and back. 

Then, all the hunters had to do was wait. 

You lurked behind a stack of barrels and crates as soon as the sun began to set. Enji and Keigo set up shop in the village square. The creature, whatever it was, had no room to go anywhere. With every door bolted and roof blessed with salt, it had nowhere to hide. Night descended slowly as if to give the creature more time to rest or find a new hiding spot. Lights flickered out in every window in the village square; all the others followed suit. You clutched a long knife in your hand. 

Out of a barn, it came bursting through wood and hay. It had a long body but very little muscle mass, like a snake with four legs and antlers like a deer driven through moss. Its hiss echoed through the echoed and made the rafters of buildings shudder. You were thrown to the ground by the power of its roar. You fumbled to your knees to get a good look at the creature who'd been terrorizing the poor villagers. At the beast ripped through the barn, salt scattered off the roof and landed on its serpentine body. The thing fell to the ground, twisting and writhing on its back while trying to shake off the salt. 

Keigo and Enji rushed over, weapons in hand. Swords glinted like silver fangs in the night's darkness. Though weak, the creature managed to roll unto his feet and charged at them. But Enji and Keigo were faster than that. 

Being smaller and younger, Keigo slid around to the creature's side and plunged his sword into its stomach. Or at least the approximate location of where its stomach was located. Its body was so long and thin, it was hard to tell which organs lay where. The monster was about to swerve and turn its jagged teeth on him when Enji's long claymore cut through its neck at the base of the skull. The village square was so quiet that you heard metal plunging deep into flesh and the snap of bone. You watched by moonlight Enji's foot crack open the skull and drive his sword deeper into its neck. The creature squealed like a pig at the slaughterhouse. It clawed and snapped its teeth, but there was no moving. Keigo pulled his sword out and pushed it back in. Eventually, the creature stopped moving.

The following morning, the sleepy village woke to the grotesque smell of demon flesh burning on a pyre. You helped Enji and Keigo erect it in a barren field and set it ablaze with a simple fire spell. Though they hated the smell, they were at least grateful to have the monster disposed of. Now, they just had to worry about one other problem. You looked around at the crowd that gathered to watch the fell beast burn. Although you couldn't tell how many were secretly still within the first month, several women looked pregnant. 

"Let me stay a while to find out who's getting these women pregnant. This isn't natural, you told Enji. 

"Very well," he said. "I'll have a talk with the mayor about letting us stay in his barn." 

"You don't have to stick around. Your job's done here, isn't it? They paid you, right?"

"Would you rather walk twenty miles back to your cottage?" Enji asked.

"N-no," you answered. 

"Then, we're staying."

That was that. You tried to coax Enji into leaving. You didn't need protection, and you were okay with walking home. Hell, you could have paid for a horse or even a donkey to ride back since he did give you one-third of the money earned from slaying the creature. Enji heard none of your protests, folded his arms across his massive chest, and looked sternly down at you. You felt dwarfed in his presence. His smoldering eyes were not suited for it, and he was insistent in ways you couldn't believe. Keigo said so himself one evening into your third night at the village.

"He's never been like this before. Are you sure you didn't cast a love spell on him, Miss Hocus Pocus?" Asked Keigo.

"No!" You said vehemently and tossed a balled-up dirty sock at him. "That is highly unethical, to say the least. I would never manipulate someone's emotions like that!"

"Find anything?"

You interviewed every woman who had gotten pregnant. They conceived at almost the exact time. That wouldn't usually be an issue if it was winter or a recent festival had taken place. Neither hadn't. They couldn't blame lousy weather for sequestering them with bored husbands or lovers. The fact that they got pregnant at almost the same time disturbed you the most. A couple had already terminated the pregnancies because of embarrassment, but you didn't blame them. Threw a small wrench in your investigation, though.

You let yourself out of the humble cottage where a woman told her story to you. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Enji was waiting for you by the cottage's fence. 

"None of the stories match up. Now that they can't blame the monster, they came up with their own lies. Babies don't just magically appear out of nowhere. Someone is getting them pregnant. They're either protecting them or too embarrassed to admit who it is. It certainly isn't any of their husbands and lovers, that I can tell you."

You and Enji walked over to the only tavern in the area. It was the only well-built thing in the village, aside from the mayor's house and the town hall. A few men clapped Enji on the back in gratitude for saving their livestock, but they never noticed you. Both of you took a seat at the bar. Enji paid for your drink since nobody seemed to care that you lent a helping hand with the monster. Enji's drinks were on the house. The beer was a little stale, but not the worst you ever had. 

A couple swigs in and Enji started asking you questions. 

"Where did you learn your Craft?" 

"From my father," you answered. 

"Your father? I thought it was passed down maternally?

You slumped in your seat. "It is in some cases. My mother never showed up, and that left my father to raise me by himself. She left the day after she gave birth and never returned. My father is a good man and even better witch." You downed your mug of beer. "Have you ever killed a witch yourself, Enji?" You asked. 

Enji looked over at his mug. His eyes became steely and set in stone. They lingered on your neck before traveling up to your eyes.  

"Once, but I wouldn't call her a witch. She gave folks like you a bad name. She was an awful hag. Like to turn lost or kidnapped children into swine and sell them at marketplaces where they were taken to slaughterhouses. When she was bored, she disguised herself as a beautiful woman and danced naked around a bonfire. She lured men who would hear her. She slept with them to drain them of their virility. By the time I had gotten there, the village was in misery."

"What did you do to her?" You almost didn't want to know the answer, but there was small comfort in that Enji didn't compare you to an evil hag. 

Enji drained his mug in one go. He practically slammed it on the counter. All but two minutes passed before another appeared in his hand. Enji drank half of it before saying anything at all. 

"I lay in wait for her after I followed some kids into the woods. They were lured there by one of her magic spells. I kept the kids in a net so they wouldn't go into the house. She tried to kill me with a knife, cut my arms up, but she didn't stand a chance. She hadn't been prepared for a fully grown monster on her doorstep instead of three kids. I took a chain hanging off her rafters and strangled her. I cut out her heart, burned it, and. Then set the rest of the house on fire too. I dragged the kids back to their parents without too much trauma. As far as I'm aware, they haven't had any problems ever since."

You stared into your beer mug, which was about halfway empty by this point. You knocked it back and slammed it on the counter. Enji bought you another. About half an hour into your drinking, Enji left the seat next to yours to take a piss. You stared into your mug again when you felt someone pull up to the bar on the other side of you. He was young, handsome, and wore a broad smile. His sandy-blonde hair was pushed back away from his face in a way that reminded you of Keigo, but his eyes were the wrong color. Blue-colored crystals beamed at you. The color of his eyes was beautiful, but they left you unnerved. 

"You're seeing the monster hunter, Enji, right? You're his wife or something?"

"What? No, I'm not his anything. He asked me for help, and I agreed. I was pleasantly compensated. With money." You added sharply in case the young fool tried to twist your words. 

"I see," the stranger said. "I thought that someone as pretty as you wouldn't get involved with a man old enough to be your father." 

"I don't see how it's any concern of yours, fop," you sniped. 

The young man bit his lower lip. You thought you saw his hand disappear into his vest, but you had a couple of drinks in you and couldn't tell for certain. 

"Well, well, well. The little white witch has some spunk. Here, I thought you were just a mistress, tagging along because of the old man's jealousy. Now I see that you've got quite the fire in you." 

You wanted to gag. It would be a simple task to make him vomit in turn or make him stink of skunk for the rest of his life. Your father always taught you that curses should only be used when absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, being rude and horny didn't qualify as absolutely necessary.

"How bout you ditch the old man and come with me. I have some friends with some good stuff. The best wine you've ever had. What do you say?" The young man continued to pester. 

You had just opened your mouth when Enji's hand appeared out of nowhere. The man stood beside you and reached for your mug. He brought it to his lips and drained the last of your beer. 

"I think she's outgrown your company," Enji growled. "You should move along." 

The stranger reluctantly got out of his seat and walked away. He still wore a small on his face as he did so. 

"I think we should head out. I don't think we should meddle in the village's personal affairs. It'll sort itself out eventually," said Enji. 

"But—"

"It shouldn't concern you." 

You didn't want to leave, but some part of you realized that Enji was right. You had no clues, and none of the women were going to tell you the truth. You didn't live here, so why spend so much time and effort on people weren't really your concern? If they really needed you, they could come and pay for it. Still, you were a little reluctant to pack and leave the villagers and their unsolved mystery behind. You waited by the horses as Enji and Keigo finished some last-minute business with the mayor. What they could be discussing, you could hardly venture to say. When it came time for you all to climb on, Enji handed you over to Keigo instead of helping you unto his Clydesdale. The change was odd, but you didn't overthink it. 

A couple hours into the ride, you noticed Enji wiping his brow more than usual. It was a mild day and, for the most part, was covered by the trees from the sun. He didn't glance at you. At sunset, Enji took his horse and pack and traveled a bit further than you all. He set up his own camp where you and Keigo couldn't see him. 

"What's he doing? Wouldn't it be better to camp together? That can't be very safe," you said to Keigo. 

"He's…feeling a bit under the weather. Doesn't want to spread it to either of us." Keigo's answer would have satisfied anyone else.

"He was perfectly fine all day," you counted. "What could he have caught?"

You stood up and started in the direction where Enji disappeared. Keigo hopped in front of you a moment later. He spread his arms out as if that would be enough to deter you. 

"I can't let you do that, Y/N. He told me to keep you safe, so that's what I'm—"

You grabbed a handful of sleeping powder from the satchel hanging on your waist. You usually carried an assortment of these spell powders on you in case of emergencies. While your life wasn't in danger, Keigo was stubborn. You cradled the lavender powder in your hand and blew a puff of air into it. Your hand was aligned with his face to blow the powder into it. Keigo coughed and wheezed for a minute before his eyelids drew closed. Keigo was snoring face down in the dirt in less than two minutes. 

You trekked through the woods, snapping every twig along the way. Through the bushes, you spotted a smaller campfire and then a horse tether to an oak tree. Enji stood at the farthest end of his encampment. His back was turned towards you. You tip-toed quietly to avoid startling him. The closer you stepped, the more awkward the scene became. Enji's right arm was shaking with effort while his left hand braced against a tree. He was panting and grunting. But what shocked you was the way he said 'your' name. It didn't take very long for you to figure out what he was doing and why he camped away from you guys. 

"Fuck, Y/N." 

At first, you thought he noticed you creeping on him from behind. With an animalistic groan and a quiet splatter, you realized that he finished himself off with your name on his tongue. Enji leaned his forehead against the trunk. He moaned as if in pain. He looked down, swore, and started again.

You took a few steps closer. 

“Enji?" You called out. 

You were within arms' length of him when Enji turned around. His face was red as hair, but not nearly as red as the bulging head of his cock. You blushed immediately and swallowed hard at its size. Enji didn't move his hand, which fisted his cock, but he didn't remove his hand and hide.

"The man put something…in your drink this afternoon. I was coming back when I saw him pour a vial of pink potion in your mug."

You remembered the stranger and how he pressed and prodded. You thought you saw his hand dig into his vest. However, you'd been drinking and couldn't tell for sure. It dawned on you that Enji drank your laced beer before you made a terrible mistake. You shuddered, thinking about what could have happened had you drank it before Enji could get to it. 

"You're in pain…because of me. You saved me from getting drugged and raped by a stranger. That love potion…is causing this, just as it's caused all of those pregnancies in the village?" 

You watched the beads of sweat roll down Enji's face and neck. Enji nodded.

"You should go back. Keigo will protect you from me. I shouldn't be around you when I'm like this," said Enji. 

His eyes flickered to your chest, then he forced them back to your face; they trailed down your neck again. Enji snapped his eyes shut and started to turn around. You grabbed his right arm and sank to your knees.

"You let yourself be drugged to save me. You're in pain. I'm a healer, so," you took a deep breath, "let me help you."

Enji didn't give you a warning before shoving himself into your mouth. Your jaw was already open wide for him, but that didn't keep them from straining with the effort. He was thick as a horse cock, veiny, and reached the back of your throat. Enji held your head between his large hands as he snapped his hips into your mouth. You struggled to breathe through your nose while Enji thoroughly fucked your throat. 

He growled like an animal. The sound erupting from his throat almost drowned out the desperate whines coming from yours. You laved your tongue over him and sucked in your cheeks to help things move along. You clawed at his thighs then held unto his hips. They moved faster, snapping into your mouth without hesitation. Enji's vigor was nothing like you seen or felt before. His cock filled your mouth and stretched you open without even trying. 

"Brace yourself, Y/N. I'm about to come. Be a good girl and let me come down your throat," Enji growled. 

A second later, your face was thrust into his crotch. Your nose brushed against the forest of curly red hair. His balls felt hot against your chin. Last but not least, Enji's cock reached all the way back into your mouth. You could feel him bulging in your throat. Your jaws ached as your mouth swelled up with his cum. The substance leaked out of the corner of your mouth. Enji did not pull out until the rest dripped down the inside of your throat. You were the one to pant like a dog in heat when he finally pulled out. 

You gasped when your senses came back to you. Enij's chest was still heaving for breath, and sweat rolled down his exposed skin. His armor was ditched in a pile near his campfire. His gray shirt stuck to his skin where his sweat soaked through. Still protruding from his black trousers was his red cock. 

"Shit. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought," you said in all seriousness. 

"Wait here." 

Enji didn't bother to tuck himself in before walking to his pack. He pulled out a length of rope and carried it back. You tried not to stare at his member as it bobbed freely in his long strides back towards you. 

Enji threw the down at the base of the tree. His broad hands took you by the shoulders and pinned your back against it. Next, they went to work on your clothes. Enji snipped the corset laces at your end with a knife on his belt. His hands tore open your shift and skirt to make way for him. Once most of your skin was exposed to him, Enji grabbed your hands, pulled them above your head, and tied them with rope. To one end, you. At the other end, he looped around the nearest branch and fastened a knot there. Your feet could barely touch the ground when he finished. 

Your legs were quickly spread and hoisted over his hips. Enji lined himself up to your slit. The angry, blunt head spread open your cunt, lubricated by the juices freely flowing. Enji's hands cupped each of your ass cheeks and squeezed hard as he bottomed out. He felt so much more prominent in your throat than in your cunt, but that didn't feel less substantial. Enji's cock still was hard, thick, and ridged. Your walls fluttered around him. 

"You wet for me already?" Enji wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. 

He didn't give you a chance to reply before starting. Enji pulled out most of the way until just the tip remained. He pushed all the way in again, balls deep. Repeating the process, Enji thrust faster and harder. You arched your back though your body strained against him and the ropes keeping you off the ground. Your shoulders and arms were going to burn like hell tomorrow, but at the moment, it didn't fucking matter. 

Your breasts were smashed against his hard chest. The friction tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Enji lowered his face to kiss and bite your neck. Latching onto your shoulder did little to muffle the sound erupting from his throat. He was an animal in heat. Your legs bounced with every thrust of his deep inside your body. 

You tried to meet him thrust for thrust, pushing your hips against his. After a while, it was a vain effort. Despite your youth, you couldn't imagine keeping up with him. You quickly gave up and handed Enji the power. 

He didn't say much. There were no your cunt feels like it was made for my cock or you take it so well as a bitch in heat. Enji could have said those things and more. He was focused on completing as soon as possible so as not to further harm you. He grunted like a beast but made no effort to verbally degrade you. 

When your walls fluttered around him again and squeezed his cock, Enji followed suit. Ropes of cum warmed your lower belly. Then, and only then did Enji speak up.

"Is it wrong for wanting to imagine you fucking swollen with my baby inside you? You're so fucking full of my seed, aren't you, Y/N?"

You could barely nod. The thought shocked you for a moment, and you didn't know if you wanted it. Time would only tell.

[phantoms-lair]

Mystery March 10: Mistake/ Uncommon Ancestry 13b

“Before you ask, Izuku doesn’t know about our prior conversion, and I’d prefer he didn’t find out.”

Iida felt a knot in his stomach untie. The thought that Midoriya had known everything and had been pretending otherwise since Hosu left a bad taste in his mouth; he was glad it wasn’t the case. “May I ask why?”

Lewis nodded. “Vivi and Arthur are Guardian Spirits. I act as one, but that’s not my true nature. I’m a wraith.”

Iida’s eyes narrowed in thought. “At the camp that’s what Mori-san called me. A ‘Baby Wraith’.”

“Shiro loves stirring the pot, but she’s not entirely wrong. I don’t know how you were before Stain, but when I first saw you you certainly had the feel of a wraith to you. And that hasn’t changed.”

“What does that mean?” Iida asked.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I always thought of wraiths as just another kind of ghost, so this is a learning experience.” Lewis led him into a gallery of paintings.

“These are our memories. Preserved so if our minds twist them, we’ll have a true reference.” He gestured to a dark frame decorated with twisted vines. “This one is mine.”

Iida looked at it and found himself within the memory itself. Of driving to a cave, of exploring it before suddenly being pushed to his death while his best friend, Arthur-san?!?!, smiled at his falling form.

Iida experienced awaking in rage. Of trying to make things right, first by attempting to burn the traitor in the very mansion they were standing in, then causing his van to crash, and finally throwing him off the very same cliff he’d killed Lewis on.

The vision ended, leaving Iida back at the mansion.

“Tell me, Iiida-kun, were my actions just?” Lewis asked in a somber tone.

“Of course they were!” Iida snapped. “The man is unforgivable. How could you allow him to be near your family? My classmates?”

“Another perspective,”

Iida found himself guided to a cherrywood frame shaped like nine woven threads. “I don’t care what he had to-”

“Not his, Mystery’s.” was all Lewis said, and suddenly Iida found himself in the cave again.

It was different this time. Through the memory of a kitsune Iida was able to experience things no normal human could. He could see the malevolence in the cave. He saw it grab Arthur through his arm, saw Arthur’s very soul fight and lose and the demon (what else could it be?) murder Lewis-san. And as Mystery, he knew there was only one way to save him.

Iida perceived himself growing and charging forward, when he was blessedly removed from the memory.

Arthur-ojiisan wouldn’t react well to Shinsou-kun’s quirk He vaguely remembered Midoriy saying, at the Sports Festival that felt like a lifetime ago. And maybe it was, as it was before he’d become a wraith.

“This is Arthur’s,” was the only warning Iida got before the beechwood frame carved into intricate gears dissolved into a hospital.

One of Arthur-san’s arms had always been different, and now Iida knew why. He watched him wake up short a limb, but still focusing to almost the exclusion of all else on his missing friend, whom he didn’t remember was dead.

He watched him forgo his recovery time to begin a search and watched Vivi-san be the only thing to keep him from doing even more damage to himself.

He saw him find the mansion and escape, though not without the force of the explosion slamming him into the van, never realizing he had achieved his goal.

He watched him flee from the haunted truck and go through the windshield when it crashed. He wanted to scream as he watched Lewis-san let him fall a second time.

And he nearly cried with relief when he saw Arthur-san land safely.

He saw the wounds between the three heal, saw them reassure the fourth who had all but forgotten how to be himself and the reconciliation with his daughter. He saw the three make an eternal vow to each other, watching Arthur hold his own daughter in his arms for the first time. It felt good. It felt right.

Then he noticed as the memories went further, Arthur seemed to get weaker, ending with him collapsing.

Untreated organ damage the doctor said and Iida saw flashbacks to the explosion that threw him into the van, the car crash that sent him through a window, and the fall off the cliff that stopped suddenly. We’ll do everything we can, but it might be a good idea to get your affairs in order.

In the end Arthur didn’t even look like Arthur, but rather like a blond skeleton, strapped to a hospital bed with the constant *beep* *beep* of the heart monitor.

Lewis-san and Mystery were the same. Vivi-san was older, as was their daughter, who’s hair was a different shade of green, but had the round face he recognized in Midoriya-kun and his mother.

There was something wrong with the memory. The field of vision was darkening and color seemed to be slowly draining from it.

Daddy? He heard the little girl ask as the vision turned dark and all he could hear was the heart monitor’s final *beeeeeeeeeeeeep*

A heavy hand on his shoulder broke the spell. Iida clasped his hands to his mouth to keep from screaming and felt tears he hadn’t realized he was shedding run down his face.

“I ask you again Iida-kun. Were my actions just?”

It was a long while before Iida could answer. “How do you live with it?” he finally asked.

“I don’t.” Lewis said simply. “And unlike my husband, that’s not a comment on my status of being. I remained in this world because that’s what the two I hurt the most wanted. I don’t deserve their love, but they still give it freely, and I’m not cruel enough to reject it for the sake of my own self punishment. The guilt and the shame? It’s been there every day since Arthur got his diagnosis. He tried to keep it from me, he didn’t want me to blame myself.” Lewis shook his head. “It will never go away. I will feel it for the rest of my existence.”

“You’re a wraith, Iida Tenya. Would that I could change it, but I can’t. But at least I could do the one thing in my power. Stop you from making the same mistake I did.”

Iida’s mouth opened and closed a few times. There was so much he wanted to say, so much of it condemning the man, the killer, in front of him. But the words that finally edged out were ‘Thank you.’

Lewis nodded his acknowledgment. “We should get to the kitchen. I did promise snacks for your friends, and you don’t lie to Vivi about snacks.”

His tone was light, but Iida could feel the lodestone that weighed on the ghost’s soul. “Uraraka-kun as well.” He agreed.

He was a wraith (somehow), but he was a cold wraith. He would never burn an innocent. And it was only because of this man he didn’t go down the path of inferno that would only have led to the instruction of him and his loved ones

If one had asked him, even earlier this very evening, if a killer could be forgiven, Iida would have said no. But Arthur-san had forgiven Lewis-san and Iida himself could bear him no ill will.

He would learn from Lewis-san and never make that mistake, nor be tempted by it again.

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Crybaby memories Ch. 3

Look at me, posting yet another chapter just a week after chapter 2 instead of months, I’m amazed at myself honestly.

Y/n finally returns to Japan after 10 years to finish her last year of the hero course at UA. But what she didn’t realize was that she would have to meet her old childhood friends and face her past, something she had left in Japan. And can Bakugou really make up for the mistake he regrets the most? Or maybe you’d do best to just forget about the explosive blonde.

Genre: Angst and fluff Pairing: Bakugou x reader Words: 4500~ 

Childhood friends AU

Ch.2 <- -> Ch.4

“Hey, Shinsou, that’s cheating!”

“It’s not cheating if it’s a game mechanic.”

The noise level in the dorm’s living room was rising by the second as the group currently playing finished their last lap on Mario Kart. As Sero passed the finish line in second place, he let his head fall back with a groan. Shinsou sat beside him with a satisfied smile, the switch controller comfortably in his hands. Jirou and Hagakure just took their loss with dignity and grace, congratulating Shinsou on his continued win streak.

“That’s pretty amazing. Five games in a row and not a single loss…” Jirou gave an exhausted smile while putting an arm on the backrest of the couch.

Most of the class had come together to play some Mario Kart to de-stress after the past three weeks of hard work and studying. Y/n had joined them, sitting on one of the “non-player” couches that had formed with glee as she watched her classmates play. What had begun as a friendly game of Mario Kart 8 was now a competition to see who could knock Shinsou from the pedestal he had built from his friends' losses. So far, no one had obviously succeeded and she wasn’t about to try. She’d barely played before and with the tension that had been built, it wasn’t exactly prime time to get her hands on a controller. Yet she had so far been the only one there who hadn’t played.

“Don’t you wanna try playing too, y/n?” Tsuyu leaned over the back of the couch y/n sat on, looking at her before looking back to the screen. At that point, a couple of other people also noticed that she had been sitting on the non-player couch since she had arrived. 

“I’m fine, it’s okay! I mean, I wouldn’t want to embarrass Shinsou like that after he’s been winning.” She teased, playfully sending Shinsou a pitiful glance. He just scoffed, sinking further down in his seat.

“You’re very welcome to try.” He knew she was just messing with him but the challenge was serious. A quiet laugh went around the room, making the competition even more enticing. The silence that came after as the party music played idly in the background was even worse, her classmates were waiting for y/n’s reply. She looked at Shinsou and pursed her lips, crossing her arms tightly.

“Hmmgh… Fine. I will try it, as a matter of fact.” She finally got up from her spot and Hagakure moved up from the player couch, the two exchanged seats and controllers. Y/n felt a hand on her shoulder reassuringly yet the invisible girl giggled a little on passing. She did not, in fact, feel reassured when she sat down. Everyone else got ready themselves, y/n praying that she had understood enough of the game to be able to put up somewhat of a fight.

Once the game counted down from 3, the cheering started once again. Some people were still excited to see Shinsou wipe the floor with the competition but a fair share of the other classmates were cheering on literally anyone other than the purple-haired man. And while Jirou had caught up in a second-place lead, y/n was lagging behind at a meekly 7th place and Sero stayed between being 3rd and 4th. It was kinda embarrassing if you thought about it, but y/n was luckily having a good time either way. Despite having to ask quite a few questions, often involving what had just hit her, the rest of the group was as supportive as ever. Mina had even taken to massaging y/n’s shoulders, pumping her up like a coach to their boxing champion in the ring. 

“Come on y/n! You can do this, loose and limber, loose and limber!” 

“Mina, I am in a car! I cannot be loose!”

“Just be limber then!”

In the end, Shinsou just put another win to his long list of victories as everyone groaned and sighed. Well apart from his supporters, like Denki, who just gave him a high five and cheered. Y/n leaned back in her seat, partially defeated but far from surprised. Despite that, she was smiling, putting her controller in her lap and looking towards the commotion besides her. She watched Jirou and Sero prodding at Shinsou, trying to get the secret to his wins out of him while Kaminari was trying to explain it to them despite him having lost to the guy earlier. But leaning a little forward, she saw someone else in the background, doing something in the kitchen that was situated in the corner. 

Bakugou. 

Her eyes followed him for just a moment, watching him get a glass of water. It hit her that he hadn’t been part of the game night at any point during the evening. Last time she had seen him was in class before he had most likely gone and hid in his room again. She pursed her lips, debating if she should call out to him or let him retreat. But she remembered something.

“Y/n you really suck at this, you’re lucky we didn’t bet anything or you’d go home empty handed!” Bakugou heckled the girl sitting besides him, leaning back against the side of his bed with a shit eating grin. The girl on the other hand was leaning forwards, frowning while her elbows were supported on his knees, the controller still gripped in her hands. His TV was situated on a short dresser, the gaming console placed on the ground in front of them.

“C’mon, once more! I was so close that time!” She said, looking back at him with determined eyes. The blonde boy had been winning all evening but y/n never gave up, she wanted to prove him and his bragging wrong. She always did, whenever he tried to outshine her she bit back, turning it into a near never ending competition. He just examined the girl's face, letting his eyes drift across her lips and big eyes. 

“Fine, one more time. But you really gotta learn this time y/n or you’ll fall behind again.”

Maybe, if anyone, Bakugou could knock down the reigning emperor of Mario Kart and free the people from his tyrannical grasp of the racing scene.

Bakugou had already filled his glass with water and drank it too by the time y/n decided to interrupt his evening. He placed the glass in the washing machine and turned around, giving the group of people a look as he’s about to head back up the stairs. But as he does, watching the scene unfold, he makes eye contact with the girl who has been shamelessly staring at him. He froze and suddenly a feeling of dread worked it’s way up his chest, a grin forming on the girls lips.

“Hey Bakugou!” The room went silent as y/n raised her voice to call out to the man on the other side of the dorm. People’s heads turned, confused but intrigued by why she had called out to him. “Come play with us.” She said simply, and yet the smile that was supposed to be innocent felt more malevolent than anything. If you had asked Bakugou.

The room waited for his answer with held breaths, she knew she had put him on the spot. She was enjoying the tough situation she had created but she wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t genuinely think that he might be the one who could win at least one game against Shinsou. He, on the other hand, felt his heart race. Not because she had asked, but because he wasn’t prepared. He had made it clear from when they first even started these game nights that he wasn’t going to take part. He had been baited into it once or twice but he had never made it a regular occurance and never when they asked him to play. He simply had more important things to get done rather than waste his time on shit that wouldn’t get him anywhere in the long run. He wasn’t a kid anymore.

“No.” He replied just as simply as she had asked, causing Shinsou to chuckle and flick through the game menus since he hadn’t believed that Bakugou would play from the beginning. But apparently the rest of the class wasn’t as quick to accept his answer, having caught on to y/n’s intentions.

“Come one, Bakugou! Just this once!” Kirishima was already halfway across the distance between the kitchen and the couch, clearly about to try and drag Bakugou with him. But the explosive blonde wouldn’t have any of it, getting ready to either smack his hands away or literally run back to his dorm room, you could see it in the way he placed his feet and furrowed his brows.

“You really think I’m going to sit here and listen to every idiot down here screaming over a fucking game? Hell no! You all sound like children!” He said loudly, dodging a grip from Kirishima with an easy side step, turning his body to now angrily walk away.

“Doesn’t he usually screm the most though?” Kaminari looked to the rest of the class with a confused face, not minding that Bakugou wouldn’t play. He was happily supporting Shinsou and his victory run ever since declaring himself manager over “team purple”. But everyone else ignored him, knowing they had to come up with something good to make Bakugou stay. Sero thought the quickest.

“We need you to win!” He yelled, climbing up to his knees and leaning over the back of the couch to try and make his voice reach Bakugou before he left. That seemed to make him stop but not turn around. Only his head twitches to the side to hear a little better. Luckily Midoriya followed Sero’s train of thoughts and also spoke up.

“It’s true! We’ve all tried and failed, you know? Shinsou has been crushing us all, you’re probably the only one who can win by now.” He had also stood up, riling up the rest of the class as they called out for somebody to help them. Bakugou thought about it for a second before turning around to look at the group, his arms crossed over his chest as it often was when he was undecided or unwilling. Midoriya looked at y/n who had started this whole thing, grabbing her arm gently but with urgency. She knew that she had to join in and rose from her seat, standing besides the other hero.

“We can’t do it, Bakugou! He’s just too good. I’ve only seen one other player who had been at his level and it’s… you!” She said with emphasis, looking him dead in the eyes. It was so overdramatic it almost hurt but that was kind of the point right now. And apparently it worked, Bakugou sighed and rolled his eyes but let his arms fall to his side. The soft sounds of his steps coming closer made everyone cheer and raise their arms.

“Holy crap, you guys really are losers. It’s just a fucking game. I’ll play once, but only to beat Shinsou and make you guy’s shut the hell up. Once I do, I’m leaving and I expect to not be disrupted ever again for this stupid shit.” He was swearing like a sailor, begrudgingly squeezing in between the couch and the table, grabbing the controller from Jirou who had stood up to switch. She passed by y/n and sat down on one of the empty cushion seats next to the couches, happy to finally get to watch others lose instead of losing.

Y/n hadn’t thought about the fact that Bakugou might sit next to her until he actually sat down in between her and Sero. Her eyes widened just a little and her breath got stuck in her throat when she felt his thigh pressing against hers, pushing her more into the corner as he got comfortable. And when he leaned back, his naked arm brushed roughly against her own before she shuffled into the corner even more. She really shouldn’t have reacted as strongly as she did, it wasn’t exactly weird to sit like this and she was almost just as close with Jirou. Yet the warmth he radiated made her own cheeks heat up if just slightly. She needed to get out of that situation before her embarrassment got any worse.

“Hey does anyone else wanna play, by the way? I’m fine with just watching again.” She stood up, trying to be casual as she held the controller in one hand and looked around to see if someone was about to change place with her. But before anyone could even open their mouth, a hand had already grabbed her arm and was pulling her back down on the couch.

“Oi, don’t you dare force me to play this dumb game and then just fucking leave. You’re playing too, dumbass.” Bakugou was absolutely blaming y/n for having called out to him and wasn’t about to let her get off the hook just because she didn’t want to play anymore. Not that he fully realized what he was doing to her right now, he was more focused on getting this done and over with. 

Y/n gasped as she was pulled back down on the comfy couch, the seat easily catching her. And despite the fact that Bakugou had been a little rough in saying it, people seemed to agree that she should play a little more since she had barely gotten the chance to. So with a “grateful” smile, she settled into her seat once more as Shinsou picked a couple tracks to play and started a cup.

The track appeared on screen, the countdown heard loud and clear in the now quiet room. Bakugou leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, giving the screen his undivided attention. Y/n did something similar, putting her feet down on the ground as if it would help her keep her balance in game. Sero had relaxed a little, not too worried about winning or losing. Right now it wasn’t a competition against every other player, it was a team battle. 3 vs 1. And he had Bakugou on his side.

The signal went off and the cars sped away on the track, Shinsou taking the lead of the pack. But just as y/n had expected, Bakugou was right behind him. Herself, on the other hand, had missed the shot at the speed boost and was right now battling against the CPU’s who were surrounding her. Sero was at least making some space between him and the clung of people crashing their cars together at the start. 

It didn’t take long before people noticed that Bakugou actually could have a chance at this. Most had been at least a little uncertain about his abilities as a Mario kart racer, they hadn’t seen him play basically anything. But y/n knew that racing games had been his favourite game to play whenever she came over, often blabbering on and on about all the secrets he knew about whatever new or old game he had decided they were going to compete in that day. And after almost every new thing he told her excitedly, he asked “did ya know that? Betcha didn’t.” he had always been so proud. So now when he was faced with a challenge, y/n sitting next to him, he had to prove how right he was and always had been. 

“HEY, who the hell left a banana peel right on the landing ramp?!”

Shinsou snickered at the outburst, obviously amused that his scheme had worked but he had been a lot less casual during this second, going on third lap around the track. He had absolutely been one of the people who had doubted the blondes abilities but as soon as he realized he wasn’t up against any ordinary casual player, he had upped his focus. It did manage to keep him in lead, if just barely. He had once or twice dipped into second place but Bakugou never kept that first place spot for more than a couple seconds. 

“Y/n you don’t need to use all your mushrooms at once, you know?” Mina was still standing behind her friend, watching the match and between being entranced by the fight for the first spot, she kept an eye on her playing. 

“What? Why?!” Y/n exclaimed, unable to even spare a confused look to her.

“You won’t go any faster, save them for when you need them!” She not so eloquently explained, grabbing the back of the couch.

“I won’t?!”

Red eyes darted away from his square of the screen, looking at the girl's corner. The shock of the conversation had pulled him from his focus and forced him to react.

“Have you been using all your fucking mushrooms at once?! Are you dumb or something, space them out!” Bakugou shouted, mildly angered by the loose use of items. 

“Well I didn’t know that!”

“It’s basic Mario Kart knowledge!”

“You’re basic Mario Kart knowledge!” Was the only thing y/n could retort with, a laugh chasing after her sentence as her brain caught up with the obscure nature of the argument. And that seemed to loosen the tension that had built in the room, as much as Bakugou’s face had turned even more sour, she could feel his tensed thighs relax against hers. 

“Wait, where the hell am I?” In her loud discussion about the proper use of mushrooms, she had managed to take a wrong turn and ended up on a road she hadn’t seen before. Shinsou and Bakugou had been liberarily using the shortcuts that the track allowed but to y/n, these were unknown territory and she had gotten stuck in a corner somewhere unknown. She turned and twisted to no avail, the Lakitu floating down to tell her she needed to do a U-turn. To where? She didn’t know. “Uh oh, where the fuck do I go?!”

“Y/n, you're in a shortcut, how’d you even get in there?” Sero noticed her predicament, trying to sound calm as his eyes flickered between his own screen and hers.

“I dunno, suddenly I’m just stuck and this little turtle guy just keeps telling me I’m going the wrong way!” 

“Okay, well calm down. You should just need to turn righ– no wait lef–!” Sero didn’t even get to finish his sentence until Bakugou moved his hand.

“It’s fucking obvious you need to take a right here and then just follow the damn road!” His left hand moved from his own controller, suddenly enveloping y/n’s hands as he placed his thumb over hers, steering her car for her. He didn’t even look at her as he did it, just stared at the screen. Y/n snapped her head to look at his, shocked and embarrassed. Had her mouth not already been open, it would have fallen open once his hand was over hers. 

His thumb gently but adamantly pushed hers in the right direction, all she had to do was hold in the gas button and within seconds she was on track again. And as soon as his hand had moved there, it was gone again. Her hands suddenly felt cold as the cool air hit them. 

What was this? The third time he had touched her hand with his. It wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t even often that it happened. But why did the feeling keep lingering in her mind every time, her heart raced whenever she thought about it and his face appeared in her head. 

She couldn’t think about it too much before her focus needed to be pulled back to the game. 

“Oh uh, thanks.” Her volume had gone down significantly, she was even unsure if Bakugou could hear her above the music and sounds of the game. She kinda hoped he didn’t, she kinda hoped nobody even noticed what had just happened just to make sure nobody ever brought it up again. 

But somebody did notice. At the end of the second non-player couch Kirishima had seen the whole thing, a wide smile forming on his face as it started to click in his head what may or may not be happening. 

Bakugou had sacrificed just a couple seconds of full speed to help y/n, which he was paying for during the final half of the last lap. People were at the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the television. Sero was only a couple seconds behind Bakugou and y/n was still fighting for a top 50% ranking. She refused to give up though, no matter how little of a shot she had at even making it top 5. 

Her car crashed through another mystery box. She kept her eyes intently on her item slot, watching as it randomized, praying that she would get something more useful than a banana peel. And there it was, neatly displayed in her corner.

A blue shell.

Her heart skipped a beat, her hands gripping her controller.

“Holy crap…” She whispered to herself but the tone of her voice caught Bakugou’s attention and he looked at what she was reacting to. 

“Throw it, y/n!” 

He didn’t have to tell her twice, she pressed the button and watched as it raced away towards the first place holder. Shinsou had barely realized what was happening until he saw it go just off screen for y/n. The other students were once again in an uproar, the laughter and cheers over the top but the whole scenario had riled them up to an unnecceracy degree.

Bakugou kept his place, making sure that when the shell hit Shinsou he could pass him and take the first place. Sero even took to driving closer to the rim to make sure it didn’t hit him instead. And just as he did, the shell passed by his screen, once again earning a wave of excitement from the crowd. Finally, it came into view on Bakugou’s screen.

And half a second later it hit Shinsou.

“Shit!” 

The finish line was in their viewt at this point. Bakugou swiftly took the first place as Shinsou’s car spun. He only managed to stop spinning on the track in time to see the other male cross the finish line. 

People had stood up to cheer, Kirishima and Midoriya putting their arms over each other's shoulders to jump up and down. Uraraka along with Momo, Jirou and Tsuyu had all raised their arms on the couch, doing the wave while laughing. Mina even hugged y/n from behind, even though she hadn’t even finished the race. Only Kaminari and Shinsou didn’t become overjoyed at the new winner, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. 

Shinsou got an amicable second place and Sero came in third. Y/n was happy she did manage to get 5th place at the end of it. To her, that was basically at least a second place and celebrated it as such. She had been the one to make sure Bakugou could win after all.

“Honestly, I feel like that was kinda cheating, you guys were all ganging up on me.” Shinsou sighed, leaning back on the couch once again but in a much more defeated manner. 

“Well you know, Shinsou…” Sero let a smug smile creep across his face. “It’s not cheating… if it’s a game mechanic.” 

Shinsou looked at him, expressionless for a second as he tried to come up with a reply. But once he realized he couldn’t beat his own words, he just let the win go, joining in on the laughing instead. After all, it was just a game.

“Told ya’ll you guys were just losers! This is why I don’t even play with you extras, I win too easily.” Bakugou was sporting a cocky grin, putting his hands behind his head in a casual manner and leaning back. And while some of the others might just give him a cheeky comment on his ego every once in a while, they decided to let him have it this once. He had been their saviour after all.

“So you’re… not going to stay and play another game?” Y/n asked him, willfully putting on an innocent act to maybe tempt him into playing another game. She gathered her courage and even leaned a little closer to him, her arm pressing against his side since he still had his arms up. She was basically tucked under his arm as he was frozen in place at the contact. But y/n was convincing herself that she was just teasing him, she would do this to any of her classmates… at least she says so herself.

Bakugou looked at her big eyes and pouting lips, a little surprised that she had even asked. He remembered his words in the beginning, saying he was going to leave once he had helped them. But he had to admit, though he was strongly opposed to being wrong, that it had been kind of fun. He loved his racing games and it was nice having everyone cheer him on like that. Plus, he hadn’t had the chance to play Mario Kart 8 as much as he had wanted but he still knew a couple tricks he could show off to the others.

“...Fine. One more time, but you gotta pay attention to what I teach you or else I’m leaving. I’m not about to waste my time if you’re not going to listen.”

“Fine, one more time. But you really gotta learn this time y/n or you’ll fall behind again.”

“Hey, I thought I was her manager!” Mina looked offended, putting one hand on her chest and the other on y/n’s shoulder, pulling her away from Bakugou to make a point. Even Kirishima came up to listen in on the conversation, having totally been ready to help y/n convince Bakugou to play another round. 

“Oh shut up, as if you could beat me in Mario Kart, I’m obviously her best choice as a mana– Wait, what the hell do you mean manager?! Why do any of you even have managers, it’s just a dumb game!” Bakugou had caught himself even just entertaining the thought of being y/n’s manager and got frustrated, waving his hand around. First motioning to y/n and Mina and then Denki and Shinsou who had started talking tactics between each other.

Mina was about to retort but Kirishima stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder and not so subtly bringing his head closer to hers. He covered his mouth and whispered something to Mina with a smile. She was nodding along all the while both y/n and Bakugou were turned to look at them standing behind the couch. But soon the pinkette smiled and looked to Kirishima, nodding her head. 

“Alright Bakugou, you drive a hard bargain. I’ll step down as y/n’s manager but only if she comes with us to the arcade tomorrow.” She crosses her arms as if it was her final offer in a million dollar deal.

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN OFFERING ME THAT?! I CAN’T MAKE HER COME WITH US– A-AND I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE HER DAMN MANAGER EITHER!” Bakugou looked like he was about to climb over the back of the couch any second now and strangle her, but she stood her ground.

“The arcade?”– y/n asked, surprised by the invitation– “Well sure, why not! I’ll come. If Bakugou plays another round.”

“I ALREADY FUCKING SAID I WILL, DO NONE OF YOU LISTEN TO ME?!”

[roman-writing]

no great revelation (7/8)

Fandom(s): The Haunting of Bly Manor / Star Wars

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 6,244

Summary: Jamie  just wants to enjoy a drink after a hard day’s work on the Telosian  Restoration Project. The last thing she needs is to get herself  caught  up in a mysterious woman with a lightsabre at the local bar.

Aurthor’s notes: Please note the rating change

read it below or read it here on AO3

VII.

—

Jamie swiped up on the tablet to throw the video to the feed at the centre of the table.

"Rebecca, this is everyone," Jamie said. "Everyone, this is Rebecca."

"I thought that maybe you'd been making up your Jedi friends this whole time. Nice to see I was wrong about that." Rebecca gave a little wave. "Hi, Dani. How's the ghost?"

Dani sank down a little in her seat, and her answering smile was more of a grimace. "Hi. Sorry," she mumbled.

"Yeah, about that," said Jamie. “Back on Quint’s ship, you said you knew what was happening at House Thul.”

“Oh? Finally ready to listen to me, are you?”

“Don’t push me,” Jamie growled, jabbing the tip of her finger at Rebecca’s face on the screen. “Remember. Galaxy’s Biggest Favour.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. She had taken the call with her back to a wall, so it was impossible to glean her surroundings. "The Empire wants a foothold on Alderaan. It's a strategic location in the Core Worlds. They have been working over Lord Wingrave after the death of his brother and sister-in-law, helping him fabricate claims to the House, claims to his niece and nephew, claims to a position in the Republic Senate. You know the drill. Traditional blackmail."

"What else?" Jamie pressed.

For a moment Rebecca glanced over the top of the camera as if looking at something else out of frame, but then her attention returned back to the screen. "The children are Force Sensitives. The Sith have been helping Lord Wingrave keep that under wraps, so that The Order wouldn't take them away to the Temple for training. My sources tell me that the plan was for a Sith Lord to create sleeper agents out of the children through the use of some ancient Sith device containing a ghost."

"Which Sith?" Hannah asked.

"I'm not in the business of keeping tabs on Sith Lords. By the way," Rebecca pointed through the screen at Hannah. "How have you found shaving your head? Because I've been thinking of cutting my hair back, but I’m not sure about going all the way."

Running a hand along her shaved scalp, Hannah said, "There's nothing quite so freeing."

"Good to know. Thanks.” 

"Oi," Jamie snapped her fingers. "Focus. The Sith Lord."

"What else is there to say?" Rebecca replied dryly. "They're a Sith Lord. They're scary. They're dangerous. They're not to be fucked with. Your Jedi friends probably know the drill better than me."

"I hope not," Owen said under his breath as he took a sip of tea.

Hannah sat up a little straighter, hands clasped neatly on the table before her. "Do we know where they are? Where they're going, perhaps? Any information you give us may be vital."

Leaning her back against the wall behind her, Rebecca pursed her lips in thought before answering with a shake of her head. "I know they want the children, and I know they want the holocron. So - Alderaan."

"But the holocron isn't on Alderaan," Dani pointed out.

"They don't know that," said Rebecca. "Peter lied to buy himself time, and told them it was still in the estate of House Thul."

"But -" Dani frowned. "House Thul has its own militia of guardsmen. I know Sith are powerful but the Empire would need to send troops if they wanted to break in and hold ground."

"Then I guess the Sith Lord will be invading with troops as well."

Sighing deeply, Jamie lowered her face to her hands, letting her fingers scrub through her hair. Then she looked up again, hands hooked behind her neck. "Right. Guess we're off to Alderaan, then."

Rebecca laughed. When nobody else joined in, she stopped. "Wait. You're serious? Did you not just hear me say 'Most likely a Sith Lord is going to invade House Thul?' As in — with a shock legion. As in over a thousand soldiers led by a malevolent Force User, who can and would probably kill a room with a snap of their fingers?” 

Lowering her hands, Jamie said, "Yeah, you - uh - you mentioned that. Good thing you'll be right there with us."

"You have got to be joking."

Jamie said nothing. Just gave Rebecca a long look.

"Jamie," said Rebecca, her expression horrified, "You can't be serious. When I said 'favour' I didn't mean 'suicide.'"

"We can’t let them have those kids. Trying to mobilise Republic troops or The Order without enough evidence is a fuckin’ waste of time. We need to get into the estate of House Thul," Jamie gestured around to everyone at the table. "You're a smuggler. So, smuggle us in."

Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alderaan is Republic territory. Why do you need me to smuggle you onto the planet, when you can just fly and land there yourself?"

"Because of her." Jamie gestured towards Dani, who looked both startled at being mentioned and guilty. "I don't want Pasha and his Troopers linking Dani to this in any way. They can't know she returned to House Thul. She has to come out of this squeaky clean."

Groaning, Rebecca said, "Fine. When do you want to go?"

"As soon as possible," said Owen.

"I'm -" Rebecca looked over the top of the camera again, craning her neck slightly. "Thirty two hours from Alderaan through hyperspace. Meet me in orbit around the planet. How's the ship I gave you?"

"Rude," Jamie said blandly. "It keeps insulting me."

A smile tugged at the corner of Rebecca's mouth and she began tapping at the buttons below her screen. "That sounds like Jane."

Jamie's face screwed up. "Jane? It has a name?"

"It's a JN class droid uploaded into the ship’s mainframe. It likes being called Jane. Didn't you ask it?"

"No?"

"Well, no wonder it's rude to you. By the way, I’ve just dropped you those pictures of my godson that you asked for last time. They should be appearing on your device now.” Rebecca waved with a little flutter of her fingers. “See you in thirty two hours.”

The video feed winked out. 

"I rather like that young woman," Hannah said.

“Get in line,” Jamie grumbled. 

The video had been replaced by a file icon. Jamie clicked it and brought up the first photo of Rebecca carrying a blue-skinned Twi’lek child on her back, both wearing big beaming smiles. 

“Oh, they’re adorable,” Owen sighed. 

Fuming, Jamie flicked to the next photo, which was equally adorable. “Fuck. Okay. Yeah. They are.”

—

After cleaning up in the dining room and kitchen, Hannah gently nudged Jamie's arm and indicated she should follow her. Jamie glanced over at Dani, but she was engaged in a lively conversation with Owen while they dried dishes together. Dani's smile had lost its tentative edge the longer Owen spoke to her, but there was still a tenseness to the way she held her shoulders, the same tenseness that had been present back in Ho'kyn's bar on Telos IV, as though she were afraid someone would batter down the door at any moment.

Jamie followed Hannah, who led her up a set of stairs to a mezzanine floor where the walls were floor to ceiling scrolls and books and objects of cultural curiosity.

"Find anything new?" Jamie asked. She leaned back against the railing of the mezzanine which overlooked the lounge below.

Hannah plucked a tome from its shelf, dusted it off, and opened it to a page that had already been marked with a length of ribbon. "Yes and no. Nothing helpful, anyway."

She came to stand beside Jamie so that she might also look at the book. Jamie peered at it from the corner of her eye, not recognising the script around the drawing of a grey-skinned woman in dark red robes with a deep cowl.

"That a Sith?" Jamie asked.

Hannah hummed a curious note. "A Witch of Dathomir. Dark-aligned, for the most part, but not Imperial. They're the only practitioners of possession I've been able to find record of at all. I believe The Lady might have been an early precursor. Or perhaps they developed similar techniques independently."

Jamie stood straighter, hands tightening around the railing. "Wait, so - you can reverse it?"

Hannah snapped the book shut. "No. Though a visit to Dathomir might be in order, should we survive. However, if you chose to go, I won't be accompanying you. They dislike Jedi as much as they dislike Sith."

"Good thing I'm not a Jedi."

"I doubt they'll see the difference," Hannah said, and she tucked the book beneath one arm. "Failing that, the only other people who might know anything about this ghost are the Sith themselves."

Jamie scoffed, smiling. "Right. I'll just sail into their capital on Dromund Kaas and ask for help, then. Great advice."

A flick of the Force against Jamie's ear made her wince.

"Don't be cheeky," said Hannah.

Rubbing at her ear, Jamie opened her mouth to retort but stopped. Beneath them Dani and Owen walked into the lounge, still talking. Dani moved her hands when she spoke, and Owen watched her with a fond if guarded smile.

"I am afraid for her," Hannah murmured so that they would not be overheard.

Jamie nodded. "Yeah."

"For someone like our lovely Miss Clayton, the Dark Side is not a lure so much as it is a glue trap," Hannah mused aloud. "It has a gravity of its own, the darkness. And once there, it becomes more and more difficult to claw your way free. Even if you want to. Even if you know you should, but can’t bring yourself to try. Fear is her failing. And fear is the relinquishment of logic."

Jamie glanced at Hannah. "Can you teach her when this is all over? You're the best of the best in The Order when it comes to balance in the Force."

Without looking at Jamie, Hannah lightly smacked her arm, just a dismissive tap with the back of one hand. "Don't try your flattery on me. I've known you too long for that nonsense."

"That nonsense," said Jamie, "has gotten me out of more sticky situations than you know."

"But it won't get Miss Clayton out of this one."

Muttering a curse under her breath, Jamie sank down a bit, gripping the railing as she did so until she stood bent over and leaning against it. "Don't you start, too. I had Owen in my ear last night about it."

"Good man," Hannah murmured appreciatively.

"Bloody hypocrites. The both of you."

"You can't solve everything with your curmudgeonly charm," said Hannah.

"I fuckin' can."

"Sometimes," Hannah turned, leaning her back against the railing, arms crossed over the book gripped loosely to her chest, "a helping hand can only do so much. A person needs to want to help themself."

Jamie scowled. "So, what? If we can't help her we just ship her off to the Empire? 'Here, have a new Sith apprentice?' You haven't even given her a chance, and you two are already lecturing me on how I need to let go." She shook her head with a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable."

And of course Hannah remained infuriatingly unflappable, her voice calm when she replied, "I will do everything I can, as I know Owen will, too. But — even should we survive this ordeal — our time with her will be limited. She will not be safe on Tython, where some overzealous Knight will surely sense her presence and jump to conclusions."

Jamie's mouth went dry. She swallowed. "Then where am I supposed to take her for training?"

Hannah smiled and placed a warm hand on Jamie's forearm. "Wherever you want, dear. So long as you're there."

Face screwing up in confusion, Jamie straightened. "But you just - You were just telling me how I needed to keep my distance and all that shite."

"Was I?" Hannah murmured, and she let go of Jamie's arm to instead toy at a gold earring. "I don't recall saying that at all."

And with that she crossed back over to place the book on its shelf.

"What do you mean? Hannah?" said Jamie, turning around.

Humming to herself as if she hadn't heard, Hannah drifted off down the stairs.

"Hannah," Jamie repeated, louder this time.

"We really must pack, Owen," said Hannah, ignoring Jamie completely.

Hitting her fist against the railing, Jamie turned back around to glower down at Hannah, who appeared on the floor below. Hannah urged Owen down a hallway with instructions to pack for the trip, leaving Dani standing in the middle of the lounge, alone. Dani looked up, and Jamie's fist loosened.

The last time Jamie had seen her from this angle, Dani had been in the full thrall of The Lady back on the luxury cruiser, her red-gold gaze piercing through a camera in the ceiling. Now, Dani blinked up at her with none of that cold malice to be found. She opened her mouth to say something, but then Hannah's voice called down the hallway.

"Miss Clayton, what's the weather like at House Thul?"

Dani turned and began walking towards the sound, already answering Hannah's question, and leaving Jamie staring after her from the mezzanine floor, lost.

—

The gangway automatically lowered to the ground when Jamie got within a certain distance from the luxury cruiser still docked where they had left it.

"Good afternoon, Bollocks," said the cultured male baritone of the ship's computer. "You've brought guests."

Beside her, Owen mouthed the word 'bollocks?' at Hannah, who looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Jamie rolled her eyes and shooed the two of them up the gangway, trailed by Dani. "I have, yeah. Anything interesting happen while we were away, Jane?"

There followed a pause that was slightly too long for a droid of this calibre, and then the ship's computer replied, "Nothing of note. I did not tell you to call me that."

"Oh? Don't like it? Should I call you bawbag instead?"

Another pause, this one affronted. "Jane," said the ship's computer, "is perfectly serviceable."

"Glad to hear it, mate," Jamie drawled and stepped into the ship proper.

As Dani stepped up behind her, the ship's computer said, "And a good day to you, too, Miss Clayton. You're looking very alive today."

"Uh -" said Dani, and she ducked her head sheepishly. "Thanks."

The gangway lifted and sealed behind them once everyone had entered the main atrium, where the ship’s computer had already sent out a small service droid on trundlers bearing glasses of some kind of pale carbonated alcohol. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Owen murmured, picking up a glass and taking a sip. He made an appreciative noise. 

“Where would we like to go?” the ship’s computer asked.

Jamie waved the service droid away when it tried to press an insistent drink into her hand. “No, thanks. Jane, calculate a route to Alderaan. We need to meet someone in orbit around the planet in thirty two hours.”

“Route calculated,” the ship’s computer replied almost immediately. “The journey is only expected to take twenty one hours through hyperspace. I will chart a circuitous route so that we arrive on time. If it would please you, you may make your way to the dining lounge. I have prepared a light lunch before we depart.” 

Frowning, Jamie looked up at the ceiling. “How the hell did you even know we were coming?”

“I have access to the station’s security cameras and systems.”

That gave everyone pause. Owen froze in the act of draining his glass, while Hannah and Dani shared looks. 

“You hacked the station’s security system?” Jamie said.

“Negative, Bollocks,” said the ship’s computer. “I asked the mainframe for access very nicely.” 

“Are you lying?” Jamie turned to Hannah and Dani. “Can droids lie?”

The ship’s computer did not answer. Which wasn’t concerning. Not at all. Owen suddenly looked a bit queasy, and he gingerly lowered his near empty glass back onto the tray held out by the service droid. 

“You need not fear for the condition of food and drink aboard this vessel,” said the ship’s computer. “I am programmed to care for and protect any legitimate member of this crew as designated by the Captain and owner.” 

Jamie pointed jokingly at Owen and said, “Better watch yourself, then.”

Placing a hand over his chest, Owen pretended to look insulted, then followed Jamie further into the ship towards the dining lounge. 

“May I ask,” started the ship’s computer, “what are we going to be doing on Alderaan?’

Jamie dragged her hand along one of the polished white walls as she walked. “Getting in over our heads.”

“Please clarify.”

“We’re going to have a fight. Why?” Jamie asked dryly. “Do you also happen to have ion cannons strapped to your shiny exterior?”

“Negative. But I do come equipped with some accessories the crew might find useful in the event of a boarding attempt.”

One of the panels beneath Jamie’s hand pressed inwards, and a whole section of the wall peeled back to reveal racks upon racks of blaster pistols, blaster rifles, grenades, vibroweapons with wickedly curved blades some small enough to strap to the leg, others long enough to be wielded with two hands. Everything that would make a Republic Trooper get all hot and bothered.   

All four of them stopped in their tracks and stared. 

“Definitely an ex-Czerka ship,” Hannah muttered under her breath.

Hand on the hilt of the lightsabre at her hip, Dani said, “I think I’ll stick with this. I’d be more likely to shoot my own foot.”

“Likewise,” said Owen. 

Meanwhile Jamie reached out and hefted a blaster pistol. She turned it over in her hands for closer inspection, careful not to graze anyone with the barrel, but all defining marks or serial numbers had been either scrubbed off or hadn’t made it far enough in manufacturing to be stamped in the first place. With a shrug, she took one of the holsters and belted it around her waist. 

Owen gave her a look. “Really?” 

“What?” Jamie holstered the blaster pistol and waved at the other three. “You all have lightsabres, and we’re going up against who only knows what. Am I supposed to just hide behind a pillar while you lot do all the fun stuff?” 

Before they could answer, the ship’s computer chimed and said from its hidden speakers in the ceiling. “Not to interrupt,” said Jane, “but the tea is getting cold.”

Immediately Owen’s eyes brightened. “Oh, tea?” 

It was in fact high tea. Three tiered platters. Fine bone china. Petit fours. The whole lot. They amused themselves in the various lounges and quarters of the ship for hours before departure, at which point the ship’s computer insisted upon harnesses being secured. The jump to hyperspace left Jamie feeling on edge, as though she had left her stomach behind on Tython. And she couldn’t have been the only one. Their talk had been too forced, their laughter too loud, Owen and Jamie swapping stories to the delight of Dani and Hannah, who would chime in every now and then. And when Jane rolled out a more formal dinner, it felt like some kind of last meal before execution at dawn by firing squad. 

Jamie couldn’t find it in herself to enjoy the meal. Every bite tasted like ash. The ship’s computer on the other hand seemed thrilled that its crew was finally taking part in its carefully scheduled meals and activities. More than once Jamie thought she heard a low-pitched contented hum from the belly of the ship. Or perhaps that was simply the engine room. 

Eventually, Jamie made her excuses and left the others to their own devices. Jamie walked into the same bedroom she had taken during the initial trip on this vessel. First one on the left from the main lounge. There were at least four other rooms of generally equal size and accommodation on the ship; Jamie had simply picked this one because it was closest to the helm, easy to access and nothing more. 

Jamie sighed and stopped in the middle of the room. She unslung the holster and pistol, dropping it to the ground, then began to unbutton the crisp white shirt she had stolen from the medbay. Back on Tython, Hannah had offered her a spare set of robes, which she’d declined. Jamie hadn’t worn robes since she was a padawan, and after years of boilersuits and undershirts, she wasn’t about to start again any time soon, thanks. Even if it meant dumb slacks and collared shirts made of some anti-wrinkle fabric that cost more than her apartment back on Telos IV. 

She just needed to make it one more day. Just one more day. The last few weeks had shaved off a good few years from her life. Probably. And by this time tomorrow this whole ordeal would be over, alive or dead. Probably. 

There was a knock at the door. With a frown, Jamie turned, hands paused in the act of unbuttoning the shirt halfway down her stomach. “Yeah?” 

The door hissed open and shut again behind Dani as she stepped into the room. “Hi.”

Jamie blinked. “Hey.” 

For a long moment Dani did and said nothing. Her mismatched gaze flicked down to the narrow v of skin and the dogtags revealed by the open shirt, only to dart quickly away again, studying the bedside table with a fixed intensity it did not deserve. 

“Sorry,” said Dani. “I just - It's been a few days since we’d really spoken, and I wanted to check in.”

Jamie nodded. “Ah - yeah. I’m good. Are you -?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” 

Another lengthy pause.

Dani gestured to the door behind her. “Hannah and Owen are very nice.” 

“They are, yeah. Good people. Trust ‘em with my life, and I don’t say that lightly.” Jamie tried to smile, to make light, but Dani had turned that wide-eyed fixed intensity upon her now. It was difficult not to squirm in place when Dani looked at her like that.

Dani took an abortive step forward, only to stop herself before she could venture too close. “Are we okay? It’s just - on Tython you seemed to want your own space, and I thought -” She paused to clear her throat, glancing briefly down at her feet. “Did I mess this up or -? I mean - I know I’m not the best option for anyone, and you deserve someone nice, someone who’s not completely messed up or possessed by an ancient Sith ghost or something. But I -” she paused to close her eyes and draw in a deep breath. “I really like you. And if you don’t want anything to do with me after this is all over, I would completely understand, but I -”

Jamie tried. She really did. But the next thing she knew, she had taken a step forward and pulled Dani in for a kiss. Dani made a small noise of surprise in the back of her throat that Jamie chased after, feeling her respond in kind, feeling the Force welling up beneath Dani’s skin like a hand reaching out in offering. 

“Do you think -” Jamie said, pulling away just enough to speak, “- that I did all this because I don’t like you?”

Dani gave a breathless little laugh, her hands cupping Jamie’s jaw then sliding to cradle the back of her head. “I thought you did it because you’re good and noble and you’re drawn to a lost cause.”

“Can be lots of things, can’t I?”

They were close enough that Jamie could feel the pull of Dani’s smile against her own lips, their noses brushing. 

“I know you like your life to be boring. So, I was thinking," said Dani, "how nice Corsin must be at this time of year. Just a getaway planet in the middle of nowhere. No Sith. No Jedi. That could be boring, couldn't it?"

Jamie swayed forward, eyes half lidded, and murmured, "Could be awfully boring."

Hannah and Owen be damned. The little voice in the back of her head telling her this was a bad idea be damned. Dani was kissing her again and every thought flew right out of her head until there was nothing but this. Nothing but today, this moment, the call of blood in her veins, life as it was and nothing else. 

There was not push towards the bed, no drive to action beyond this. Still Jamie paused, one hand remaining anchored at Dani’s waist.

“You can still go alone,” Jamie said, “if you want. Doesn’t have to be with me.”

Even as she said it, Jamie dreaded the answer. Knowing Dani’s predilection towards shrinking away from things that were too difficult to face alone. Knowing her own history of always being the odd one out, passed from place to place, from Corps to Corps, unfettered, unwanted. 

Dani’s hand tightened in her hair, holding her close. “Want it to be with you.”

Want this, Jamie thought as Dani kissed her again. Want this, too.

Removing Dani’s cloak and tossing it onto the floor beside the blaster pistol had never felt so easy. Kissing her, unhooking the lightsabre and setting it onto the table had never felt so easy. Unzipping Dani’s vest while Dani finished unbuttoning what Jamie had started had never felt so easy. Being with someone else had never felt so easy. 

Jamie’s shirt was discarded onto the ground beside the bed just as Jamie sank to her knees there. Dani’s hair was mussed, her mouth parted, her eyes fixed and unblinking as Jamie began to slowly drag down the zipper of her trousers. She toyed with the chain of Jamie’s dogtags, winding it around her fingers at the back of Jamie’s neck. 

When Jamie began to tug down the material, Dani sat on the edge of the mattress so her pants could be peeled off and placed aside. Jamie leaned forward and stroked her tongue along the soft skin of Dani’s inner thigh, feeling a hand grip her hair when she bit down gently, and making a low dark sound in the back of her throat. 

Already Dani was moving her hips in small motions and Jamie hadn’t even started yet. Jamie laughed softly.

“What?” Dani breathed.

Jamie shook her head, but the movement was restricted somewhat by the tight grip Dani had on her hair. “Nothing,” she murmured and bowed forward to place her open mouth against slick wet and wanting heat.

Wanting nothing but this. The spread of Dani’s legs on either side of Jamie’s head. The taste of her when Jamie swiped her tongue in long slow strokes. The sound of her name gasped in Dani’s voice. The ache between her own legs as Dani rocked her hips to the rhythm Jamie set with a barely restrained urgency. 

Where last time had been fast and hard, Jamie did the opposite now. She traced Dani with the tip of her tongue as if trying to map her to memory, finding the best reactions and storing them away for later, for a time again with her that may never come. One of Dani’s heels came up to press into the small of Jamie’s back, and Jamie could feel the way the muscle of Dani’s inner thigh trembled against the side of her face. The same way her fingers trembled as they combed back Jamie’s hair. 

Want this, Jamie thought as Dani’s groan ended on a broken noise, as Dani’s hips arched up to press more firmly against her mouth while Jamie offered only a gentle suction. Want her. Want us. 

Dani hauled Jamie up by the chain around her neck to kiss her deeply. The kiss was slick and messy and tasted of her, and when they parted Dani was panting. 

“Did I mention,” Dani said breathlessly, “that I really like you?”

Jamie laughed and allowed herself to be pulled up onto the bed. Smiling broadly, Dani kissed her and rolled her over to start unbuttoning Jamie’s dark-washed slacks. Before she could do more than flick open the first of two buttons, Jamie placed her hands and Dani’s hips and encouraged her to rock against her thigh.

“That’s -” Dani swallowed back a reckless sound, her eyes squeezing shut. “I’m going to ruin your nice slacks.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

Dani’s answering laugh was breathless. “Do you mean that literally, or -?”

The question died on her tongue when Jamie pressed her knee up and wedged a hand between them just enough that she could brush her thumb just so. She watched as Dani’s face screwed up, as her mouth dropped open and her hips bucked out of time until she came again — smaller this time, but no less gratifying.

Dani slowed to a halt, trying to catch her breath. “All right,” she said. “It’s definitely your turn.”

When they’d finished, Jamie sank bonelessly back onto the mattress. Their clothes were strewn all about the room, and the ship’s computer had set the lights to dim automatically to match a normalised sleep cycle, so that the ceiling was a map of constellations. Dani was stark naked and wiping her hands clean on a shirt with a self-satisfied expression before she crawled back up the bed and snuggled into Jamie’s side.

Jamie rolled onto her side and draped an arm across Dani’s waist to hold her loosely there. She needed to take a shower, but couldn’t find the energy within herself to get up. Not when recent sex had turned her bones to jelly, and not when Dani started to trace the curving lines of Jamie’s monochromatic tattoo. 

Exhaling slowly, Jamie sank further into the mattress. Her eyes slipped shut and she allowed herself this moment of brief respite. 

“Do you ever think,” Dani asked softly, “this was supposed to happen?” 

Blearily, Jamie opened her eyes, lulled half asleep by the way Dani was touching her. “What d’you mean?”

Dani shook her head, admiring the way her fingertips drifted across the pattern of ink on Jamie’s bare shoulder. “I don’t know. I just - When I chose the ship to Telos IV, it wasn’t the fastest or the cheapest or even the one leaving the soonest. I was still in shock, I think. From what had happened on Vurdon Ka. There was another transport leaving three hours earlier, heading towards the Outer Rim, but when the droid asked me what ticket I wanted I bought the one to Telos instead.” Her words slowed to a mumble, and her caress stopped. Dani stared at the flowers on Jamie’s skin as if in wonder. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Coincidence?” Jamie offered, watching the flicker of Dani’s brow in response.

Dani seemed to be trying to remember something intently. “Maybe, but it was so strange. I had this - this feeling. And when I landed on Telos, you know, I -” She broke off with a small incredulous laugh. “I walked straight to that bar. Just - straight there. Didn’t even ask for directions.”

Jamie blinked, more awake now. That hum of energy had returned, threading between them like an arc. Dani’s presence was stalwart, nothing wavering or questioning about it. 

“I don’t know anything about the Force,” Dani continued, “but I’m glad to have met you.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of Jamie’s mouth. It was brief but the warmth pooling in her chest was verdant and budding. “Yeah. Me too.”

—

Rebecca’s ship dropped out of hyperspace only three kilometers from the luxury cruiser, so that the two vessels drifted in orbit around Alderaan side by side. The planet below was a vast curved horizon of blues and greens, struck through with white cloud. Sitting in the pilot’s seat, Jamie noticed how Dani’s gaze kept drifting towards the broad windows of the left wing, staring out at the planet below with her shoulders tense and her hands clasped behind her back. 

The moment Rebecca’s ship came into view, Owen leaned over Jamie’s shoulder and hit the comm button, requesting a transmission, which was immediately picked up.

“Hello again,” Owen greeted jovially down the line. “We see you’ve just arrived in orbit. And might I say - your ship is exactly what I expected from a smuggler.”

“Aww, thanks,” said Rebecca, her video feed flickering into view. “I worked hard to get it just right.”

Rebecca’s ship was a single bladed shape of stark grey material, like a shark’s fin parting the surface of water. Jamie knew from experience that its small size could mislead larger ships into underestimating its speed and firepower. She also knew from experience that the sleeping cots were cramped and uncomfortable, and that more often than not Rebecca slept in a hammock strung up in the cockpit itself. 

Jamie elbowed Owen in the gut so she could have more room. “Status report?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “What are you? Fleet Commander Taylor?”

“Just tell me how we’re getting down to the surface without being noticed,” Jamie said.

“Funny you should ask that,” Rebecca replied, trailing off.

Owen made a face. “Oh, no. Is it bad?” 

“Well…”

“Get it over with,” groaned Jamie. She could hear Hannah and Dani walking closer to join the conversation. “Put me out of my misery.”

Rebecca hit a few buttons to switch over the feed, and the screen suddenly displayed a scene much nearer to the surface. She must have hacked into a few security cameras, because the view turned slowly alongside her tapping away in the background. A towering estate in slate greys with parapets like speartips jutting into the sky dominated the screen, flanked by snowy mountains. A broad bridge led to the front entrance, and a hundred or so guardsmen had set up allacrete bollards behind which they were taking cover to avoid incoming fire, peeking over to return volleys before crouching down again.

“That’s,” Dani said slowly, pointing towards a crest-emblazoned purple and red banner hanging from the manor walls on the screen, “House Thul.” 

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and tipped her head back towards the ceiling. “Don’t tell me.”

“They’re being besieged by the Sith Lord,” said Rebecca.

“I said don’t tell me.”

Hannah peered over Jamie’s shoulder to get a look at the screen. “Can you get us to the surface?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Rebecca. “But after that, I’m all out of ideas. I told you: I’m not a Core World girl. I don’t know Alderaan from a bottle of spotchka.” 

“I do.” 

Jamie opened her eyes and lowered her head. Beside her Dani had lifted her hand slightly as though waiting to be called on in class. “There’s a side entrance used primarily by servants and staff.”

“What? A side entrance dug all the way through the mountains?” Owen pointed to the snowy peaks pressed in tight on either side of the estate. 

“No, it’s here.” Dani tapped her finger against the screen just off to the side of where the camera was currently showing. “It’s where the guards sleep. You go through a security checkpoint and then down a tunnel which leads into a room off the great hall.” 

“Don’t think the security checkpoint won’t be a problem this time,” said Jamie.

“Yeah,” said Rebecca slowly as a guardsman on screen was shot dead and slumped to the ground, only to be pulled back over the bollard by one of his comrades. “They look a little occupied right now.” 

Chatter fizzed from another speaker on the dashboard. Frowning, Rebecca sat in the pilot’s seat and turned a dial until the frequency better matched. They could hear a staticky voice shouting frantic orders over the comm.

“That’s a Pub frequency,” Rebecca said. 

“The Empire has revealed its hand,” Owen said. “The Republic will be arriving with reinforcements soon.”

“Yeah, but not soon enough,” Jamie muttered darkly. 

Hannah hummed in agreement. “Unfortunately, yes. A fully fledged Sith Lord? They can tear this estate apart and be out with what they want before Republic troops make it into orbit.” 

“Yeah, well, hopefully we can do the same.” 

From the sidelines, Dani suddenly spoke, “Can we talk about the children for a sec?” When she had everyone’s attention, she took a deep breath and continued, “What’s going to happen to them now that we know they’re Force Sensitive?” 

She looked towards Jamie, who raised both hands and shook her head, pointing towards Owen and Hannah. Hannah was looking at Owen, who shrugged and made a gesture, which Hannah reacted to with an emphatic tilt of her head, the two of them engaged in the kind of silent conversation only two people who had been together for so long knew. 

“Are you going to share with the class?” Jamie drawled. “Or are you two lovebirds just going to keep having your weird psychic talk that nobody else can hear?”

Hannah gave Jamie an arch, brook-no-nonsense glare, while Owen stuck out his tongue at her. 

“I think it best if we take them back to Tython,” said Hannah to Dani. “There they can be trained in the Force properly.”

Some of the tension held in Dani’s jaw slackened, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks. I needed to hear that.” 

“Anything else we need to discuss before we leap into the fray?” Rebecca asked from the pilot’s seat. 

Silence. 

“Right,” said Jamie, hand on the holster of her blaster pistol. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

[mydriases]

Silent cry

Jamil Viper x Reader Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 3 600 Summary: In the aftermath, you wonder if his love for you was nothing more than another lie.

Winter break was a bit too long for you. You loved holidays but being away from your love for so long weighed on you. You remembered how warm his lips were when he kissed you goodbye before you went through the mirror. You wished you could have went along with him in the Country of Hot Sands but your family wanted deservedly to have you home. It didn’t ease your longing for him though. The desire to be reunited with him increasing the more you thought about him and the last smile he had given you.

You had finished your homework in a short time, putting in practice every study tips Jamil had gave you. Passing the time while getting lost in the colorful world of Magicam, the notification that rang in your ears easily caught your attention to inform you that Azul Ashengrotto had started a live stream on his account. With nothing better to do and wanting to avoid continuing to drown yourself in the gloom of this endless day, you pressed the screen without thinking.

You were surprised when the face of your love appeared in your field of vision. As far as you knew, Azul and Jamil were only classmates, so to see the latter on Azul's account was odd to say the least. The focus of the camera became a little blurred, highlighting the scenery instead of  your beloved. You recognized the walls as those from the Scarabia Dorm. What were they doing there? Jamil didn't tell you anything about staying at Night Raven for the holidays. Had he received orders from his parents telling him to stay with Kalim in Scarabia?

The camera stabilized again and you were able to see Jamil more clearly. You expected to see his usually serene look, but what left you speechless was that Jamil’s expression showed a confusing wickedness. A sneer deformed his mouth while his arms made grand gestures as he spoke to someone in front of him. You found a look of resemblance with the face he did after winning against you at your favorite game. Nonetheless, you never had witnessed Jamil having on his face such a frightening contempt. Did they decided to organize a friendly competition in Scarabia’s dorm ? No, Jamil would have invited you if so, he always did.

The person who was filming zoomed out and you saw Azul, blank stare and dangling arms, direct opposite of Jamil's threatening aura. You immediately figured out the situation and prayed that you were mistaken. He wouldn't dare, would he? There was no more friendliness in the air, everything indicated a confrontation that took a turn for the worst. That was the only logical reason Jamil would have used his unique magic on someone, especially Azul with who he had a polite relation. But none of them had a hot temper so it didn’t make any sense in your eyes.

And then Jamil spoke.

What scared you, even more than the hatred that seemed to consume your beloved on every side were the words Jamil articulated without trembling. Revealing his desire to bring Kalim down from his position of dorm leader, he seemed drowned in joy as it was clear that his plan was working.

He had spoken without shame, his voice betraying that he believed in every word he said. You didn't understand, you didn't want to understand. In the hope of finding a logical explanation, your gaze slipped on the title of the live: "The dark side of a certain famous magic school". There was no information on the nature of the current events. So was it not a joke? Jamil was not the type to participate in this kind of thing. But maybe if Kalim had asked him he would have accepted ? But you were certain he used his unique magic and he had always been so secretive about it, there’s no way he would have used it in front of thousands of people. You didn’t know what to think anymore.

Jamil kept talking, spitting his venom on Kalim and on his position as vice dorm leader which he seemed to hate with all his heart. As hard as his words were, you couldn't help but feel your heart clench at the sight of the triumph that lit up his face. He had suffered so much that he felt liberated by the simple thought that Kalim would soon no longer be a part of his life. All this sick euphoria was the result of a pain you never knew anything about.

He used the word ‘free’, as if he'd been imprisoned in his role and his sentence was about to be served. He believed that the downfall of Kalim would be his ascension. Suffocating under the most negative emotions he saw only his own hatred, reason disappearing little by little.

Before you knew it, tears had begun to wet the corners of your eyes. Comments from other users were all expressing their shock at this student's behaviour. They were talking about how unacceptable his attitude was and that he was the one who should expelled from this school. Horrible. Everything you saw was horrible: Jamil's expression and words as well as the comments from people who didn't even know him, who didn't know anything about how he felt. Then, you wondered.

Did you know him as well as you wanted to believe?

One of Octavinelle's twins entered the camera field, accompanied by Kalim and Ramshackle Dorm's student. Jamil's face decomposed as he realized he had been tricked, in front of more than five thousand spectators.

You listened carefully to their conversation, their voices muffled by the rapid beat of your pulse. You saw Azul break out of his false hypnosis and Kalim ask, on the verge of a breakdown, if Jamil was really betraying him.

Jamil laughed. He laughed and it seemed to be liberating for him. He had lost, but there was no more pretending anymore. His laughter became a cry of hatred towards Kalim and, as it was apparently still possible, his face sank deeper into this malevolent expression as he conjured up his unique magic: Snake Whisper.

His unique magic was a secret for everyone in school, except for you and Kalim. When you took your relationship to the next level, he had accepted to entrust you with the real nature of his magic. Because you were equals, because you loved each other. And now, while witnessing his actions, you wondered what was left of this mutual trust.

A flash flooded your screen and you heard a voice uttering the beginning of the word "overblot". Then the broadcast was over and you were left shaken in the solitude of your bedroom.

Your brain filled with thoughts, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Your boyfriend was a manipulator (was he ? or it’s because you didn’t manage to see through him ?), he has just overblotted (thanks to someone who failed to alleviate his suffering) and was going to hurt loads of people (and to think that you could have avoided all of this). Did you fall in love with this person? Did you have any responsibility for his actions? (yes and yes).

Your conscience was being torn apart. Split between guilt and fear and incomprehension. You needed to do something, anything. You needed to go there so as to reason with him, so as to get explanations. Time suddenly seemed to accelerate as you hurried to put on your shoes and get your coat on.

You left a note on the kitchen table, summarizing the situation in a handwriting that betrayed a nervous tremor of the hand. You came out of your house -gasping for breath before you even started to run- and headed towards the nearest public transport.

Everything was long over by the time you got here.

You’ve asked everyone you encountered, pleading for someone who knew where Jamil was. The student from the Rhamshackle Dorm was your savior. Explaining along with their weird cat what happened in details and telling you that he was now resting in his room. You thanked the two of them and started to run to where you knew he was.

You stopped to hurry halfway through.

Loads of the damage he’s made was because of the fact he overblotted but that didn’t explain his disturbing scheme. If during all this time he had only been forging a perfect image of himself, hiding all his bad attentions, what was left of the sincerity you had sworn to each other? Jamil has just been unsmasked but you don’t change in the twinkling of an eye. It took time for Jamil to put up with his plan and it will take time to make a fresh start. Was everything before that a lie?

As far as you can remember, your relationship with Jamil was one-sided in therm of confidence. You told him your insecurities, your traumas and most of your philosophy on life. He told you loved you. Being evasive at the slightest question because when I’m with you I don’t want to think about bad things, you make me happy and I want this relationship to be about the love between you and me. Not my problems. I can be your confident of course, but don’t expect to me to share everything. It’s just how I am, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I really do.

That was the first time he confessed to you. You didn’t answer, because you were too busy embracing him and nuzzling the crook of his neck. It was also because you were feeling a bit disappointed. You didn’t want to be clingy if that’s not what he wanted, it was fine, really. But it made you feel like you were not as close to him as you wished. His arguments were justified : when you’re with your loved ones it’s normal to want to have fun and not think about all the depressing stuff that happened in your life. But now that Jamil has overblotted nothing is the same.

You sincerely wanted to believe him, to leave behind his bad deeds and start all over again. But a part of you pointed its finger at him while murmuring in you ear that he was a liar, a hypocrite that used you to appear less suspicious. Kalim choose to forgive him, obviously, despite all the suffering he endured. He has always been very lenient after all. You still haven’t seen him, nevertheless the chances are high that he would tell you that Jamil has always been at his side. Helping him through the hardest times, having been raised with him. That’s wasn’t your case.

If you wanted to leave him you’re sure he would understand. You could find another person to love and build a relationship not based on lies. But first and foremost, Jamil deserved the right to explain himself.

In front of his bedroom, as feeble as the first time you knocked on his door, except that this time it was because your relationship with Jamil was about to take a turn, not because you were excited to see him ; you waited for an answer that never came. You couldn’t be patient anymore. You pushed one of the handles and were surprised to discover that the door latch was unlocked.

Jamil was sitting on his bed, his gaze not lingering on you as he fastly looked away. It destroyed you. You thought you were ready to face him. To accept that he despised you, rejected you or begged you to forgive him, but not that he ignored you. Your voice came out hoarse, as wounded as you were :

" I came as soon as I could "

You wanted to cry at his feet and plead him to forgive you for not understanding him, you wanted him to cry for hurting you and Kalim, you wanted to leave him, you wanted him to tell you he loved you.

With his head down, one hand firmly clutching the sheet underneath him, he gave no answer. For the time being you were still lovers, but within the four walls of this room you were strangers. Because of him, perhaps because of you. You took a breath and knew what to say.

" I’m sorry "

For not being there when you needed me, for letting myself get attached to an illusion, for what you’re about to say, for everything that will be left untold.

" For what ? You did nothing wrong. "

He sighed and let himself fall backwards on the bed. He gazed at the ceiling, eyelids fluttering soflty as his hand was still grabbing the sheet under him. You walked towards him, he looked up to you and you found mixed emotions in his eyes. He seemed glad you were here but also like he would prefer for you to be anywhere else. You sat on the bed in a way that Jamil could not see your face, you didn’t need your voice to become tearful and trembling. The silence invaded the room as you were pondering over what to say. You tightened and loosened your grip on your coat, which you had been forced to remove due to the heat, and decided to cut to the chase.

" Jamil, I know I’ve never told you before but I love you. "

In spite of everything that happened, it was true. You knew that your endearment for him really had evolved in something stronger a long time ago. It's a shame it's only now that you're telling him.

You had to question him about his actions, make him spill whether or not he used you. But you didn't have the strength. Your spirits had never been so low, your self-confidence so damaged. Every answer to your questions would turn out to be a knife stuck a little deeper into your wounds and you couldn't take it. He knew either way, didn't he? He was observant, you were an open book to him so there was no need to ask questions he already knew.

You remember when you kissed for the first time and that the two of you became a couple. Everything was so easy, so simple. Never you would have thought that one day things would change, that you would want to run away from him. In the span of a few minutes, your whole life had changed. Anyone could be a traitor, from the most reserved friend to the one that couldn’t stop talking. Somewhere among these people was a liar. You had hoped it would not be Jamil, that it was just a misunderstanding and a bad joke from Octavinelle’s trio, but the facts were there.

You heard the rustle of the sheets, hitting that Jamil sat up again, and felt the warm contact of skin against your shoulder. Hesitantly, you turned your head towards him and he clutch to you a bit more as a sign of encouragement. His gaze was now overwhelmed by sorrow, mirroring your own expression. He sighed once again and reached into his pocket in order to pull out a bracelet decorated with a small red stone, similar to the one that adorned the ribbon in his hair.

" Here " he said, his voice trailing off as he was finishing his sentence " I wanted to give this to you to celebrate my rise as Dorm Leader but it won’t happen. I don't think I could give you things like this again after our talk, so take it. "

He handed you the bracelet, his fingertips brushing against the palm of your hand while doing so, you started observing the red gem so as to benefit from a pause in the conversation. He seemed sincere which illuminated a beacon of hope in you : Jamil meant to give you this after his accomplishment which signified that you were not a mere piece in his plan. That was one less thing to worry about, remained his disturbing attitude.

You played with piece of jewelry, observing the delicacy of the gemstone and the golden color of the bracelet. Giving you such an expensive item as a present was symbolic, surely it wasn’t just a piece of the richness of the Asim family. Jamil would have prefered to offer you something more personal, not showy but simple. He was like that.

Your heart sank.

" I’m sorry, because I didn’t see how you felt and also, maybe, because I feel uspset to habe been deceive by the person I trusted the most. I’m sorry for myself. "

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Jamil straightening his posture.

" In a way, you’re both similar and different to Kalim " confied Jamil, " How could have you changed anything when I was the one keeping everything to myself ? " He crossed his arms, one of his thumbs circling on his skin. " That’s why I’m the who needs to apologize. Not because I regret my actions, but because I’ve abused your trust. If I had told you, there are chances that you would have tried to stop me. Now that I overblotted I guess that it wouldn’t have been a bad thing. " His hand almost went to hold yours, but he suddenly changed his mind. " Forgive me. You were the one person I didn't want to hurt no matter what. "

Although it was what you came for, his apology didn't lighten the load on your heart. You wipped away a tear you didn’t feel coming, silently hoping that Jamil saw nothing.

The light of the room was getting dimmer as the sun began to disappear into the horizon. In the silence and darkness of the place, the gravity of the situation was crushing you. Here we are, the time to choose to forgive or not. You would be a liar if you said that you didn’t still want to be with him. To hug him and run your hand through his hair like before, to work beside him -paying more attention to him than to your homework- to talk to him about whatever interests you at the moment. But it would also be a lie to say something hadn't been broken in you. If he’s lied to you once, there was no proof he wouldn’t do it twice.

" I wished there was a way I could make it up to you " Jamil mumbled and you authorized yourself to turn to him. His eyes were glistening lightly, half hidden under his locks. That was a odd thing to see him moved, as well as a huge step forward.

" It will take long before I can trust you again, Jamil " you sobbed unable to restrain yourself any longer. The back of Jamil’s hand came to wipe away the tears that escaped you. Your gazes met. His expression was worried, his movements were uncertain and his voice wavered when he whispered your name.

" Do you want anything ? Maybe a handkerchief? "

The tears multiplied, but it didn't matter when the man in front of you wore the same expression.

" Hug me. "

More of an order than a request, but Jamil complied without hesitation. His arms wrapped around your form, you leaned into his touch and the two of you sank into the bed. One of his hand caressed you head as you nuzzled his neck, still sobbing, maybe a bit less loudly. From the start, his warmth was what you were looking for, finding his embrace again and spending your time by his side. Little did you know that the moment of your reunion was going to have the bitter aftertaste of tears.

" Can I stay with you for the night ? "

" Yes, you can. Of course. " he whispered, "Does your family know you’re here ?"

" I left a note, they’ll understand. "

There was still several thing you needed to discuss but for now you let yourself fall asleep in the soothing embrace of your love. You had been deceived and hurt, Jamil had been belittled and probably just as hurt. Maybe it was necessary to pass through all of this in order to better your relationship. Regardless, that was all in the past now. You weren’t sure wether or not you forgave him, the scars being still opened and far from being healed, but you were ready to try again. And hopefully, your couple wasn’t going to be as one-sided as before.

Underneath you, Jamil reflected on the consequences of his actions. In spite of all his bad deeds, Kalim, you and so many others have decided to forgive him. He felt good, he felt awful. Mainly he felt grateful for all the kindness he received and that he didn't deserve. Things will be different from now on, he’ll be Kalim’s servant no more, at least not as much as before. All his plans had been revealed, there was nothing left to hide.

He synchronized his breathing with yours and realized you had fallen asleep. There was still a long way to go before the damage he's done can be repaired but he’ll try. Because you, and even Kalim, deserved to be happy. His arm wrapped a bit more around you as he waited for sleep to take him.

It was strange but the darkness of his room didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Hey, it’s been a while. I’m still a silent lurker who doesn’t want to bother at heart that’s why I don’t post updates, hope you didn’t forget about me. I’m still working on requests but I struggle a bit to convey what I want sometimes and end up deleting what I’ve done because I don’t think it’s good enough :’) I hope all of you are safe, my inbox is open to anon again if you want to talk.

[getlitaesthetic]

Gosh all I've been able to think about for the last 5 hours is MC getting teleported into another reality for a shortish period of time (be it time magic glitch or curse or whatever) and coming back so extremely traumatized and the canon bros have no idea what the hell happened or how to help, because how do you help someone who trembles when you glance at them. Keep thinking about little habits MC'd pick up too and OUCH

The idea that anyone spends any amount of time thinking about my content makes my heart sing, so thank you anon! This works better as a fic, so I hope you enjoy, the rest is under the cut! NSFW and TW for graphic violence, abuse, and trauma.

WORD COUNT: 5.3K

THE BEGINNING:

MC had made... a mistake. Well, several mistakes in succession, really. Just a lot of them. They had gone to the Demon Lord’s castle for tea with Barbatos over his short amount of downtime throughout the day, and as enjoyable as those 10 minutes were, he was quickly called away back to Diavolo’s side for some errand or another. The result was that MC was left alone in the kitchen, after profuse assurance that they knew how to find their way out on their own.

That was mistake one. MC very much did not know the way out on their own. They stumbled into room after room, peeking at things and hoping for an exit they simply could not find. Well, they thought, if I’m here, I might as well explore. Their poking became more deliberate, as they entered a room where everything was covered in tarps.

Which was mistake two. Never go into a room in a magical demon palace where everything is covered. Common sense would have told them as much, but clearly they lacked much of that to be in this situation in the first place. MC tugged the covers off of each object as they passed, unveiling items that hadn’t been touched in centuries, and one that had been last touched months before at a student council meeting. The mirror was, of course, the least interesting of the bunch they had found so far, and instead they turned to the box that sat in front of it, crouching down as they pried it open.

The wooden lid squealed as it shifted, sending up a shower of dust and spiders that made MC cough and gasp, rubbing their eyes as they jumped to their feet, falling backwards in shock. They hit the glass of the mirror, but it didn’t feel solid, the way glass should. At first it felt like latex, conforming to their skin as they leaned back, but it quickly lost substance, and, as if falling through a pool of thick water, they were gone.

LUCIFER:

MC hit the hard ground with a heavy thud, groaning as they rubbed their head. They looked down, expecting to be soaked after their long, liquid fall, but they were dry, dusty even. Frowning in confusion, MC climbed to their feet, blinking quickly to clear their eyes as they finally looked around at where they had landed. The land was scorched and cracked, the sky red as dark clouds collected and thundered. A storm was coming. MC shivered, rubbing their arms, though it wasn’t cold outside. Something wasn’t right. Quickly, they turned, looking for the mirror they had fallen through, but it was nowhere in sight.

Thank God there was a familiar form cresting the deadened hill a short distance away. “Lucifer?” MC squinted, jumping up and waving their arms excitedly. They were saved! Lucifer had to know what to do, right? He always did. The form noticed their waving arms and started towards them. Soon, he was clearly visible, and MC flinched backwards at the sight. This was not Lucifer. He was too tall, his face so much more captivating. His wings dragged behind him in tattered pieces, his eyes were entirely red, without sign of a pupil... and his clothes. They were more like armor than the usual peacock feathered overcoat he usually wore. “M-My bad, I was looking for Lucifer,” MC laughed nervously, rubbing the back of their neck as they took a halting step backwards.

But it was too late. This malevolent force was already directly in front of them. “MC?” He questioned, his voice more of a hiss than the comforting, firm tone they were used to from him. “What in Hell’s name are you doing here? I thought I taught you better than to attempt escape.” His brow furrowed, sure he had chained them up before he had left. How had they gotten out, let alone this far out into the wilds of the Devildom, without harm? And this was not the outfit he had dressed them in this morning, all soft pastels instead of the black silks he preferred.

The demon shook off his confusion, grabbing MC by the arm, lifting them off the ground to look into their eyes as they hung from his too-tight grip. They swallowed uncomfortably. “I-I--”

“No,” he growled, “no excuses. You know the punishment that comes with an action like this.” Lucifer dropped them to the ground, kicking them hard in the ribs. MC wheezed, the breath leaving their lungs far too quickly. Their mind felt like it was overheating as they rolled over, trying to crawl away, only for a heavy foot to land on their left leg, breaking it with a sharp CRACK. MC cried out in pain, curling into a ball as they tried to protect their injured parts.

“Lucifer!” They sobbed. “It’s me! It’s MC!”

“Clearly,” the demon snarled, bending over to tangle his long, sharp claws in their hair, yanking hard and once again lifting them into the air as desperate tears streamed down their cheeks. “It’s time you learned your lesson for such disrespect.” MC twisted in his grasp, feeling a chunk of hair as it was ripped from their head as they fell on their knees. MC rose shakily on their one good leg, limping away as quickly as they could. 

Lucifer laughed at the sight, letting them inch away until they were almost at the treeline, where an abandoned pile of junk someone had left out set. It was entertaining to watch them fight, as if they could win this. But he quickly lost interest in watching, stepping up to spin them around, only for MC to lose balance on their injured leg and fall backwards, hitting the junk pile, and the cold not-water once again.

The furious Avatar of Pride let out a hideous bellow as he punched the old piece of glass left laying on the ground, now shattered.

MAMMON:

A cold rush of air, and MC grabbed their leg as they hit plush carpet, sucking in lungful after lungful of sweet oxygen. They were... healed? No, no that didn’t make sense, they were certain they’d just had a broken leg, likely a broken rib as well. MC reached up to feel their bleeding scalp, but everything was just the same as it had been before they had fallen. Carefully, gingerly, they sat up on their knees, hesitant to look around. Just from the soft rug beneath them they knew they were not back in the palace. But if not there, where?

Finally, MC gathered the courage to raise their eyes to the rest of the room, and they gasped. The walls were lined in beautiful things. A wall, dedicated to the most expensive watches they had ever seen, and another with a collection of what had to be original lost paintings from the human realm-- they knew, because Satan had recently taken them on a date to a Devildom art museum exhibit where these exact works had been on display. Were they in the museum, then? They didn’t recall seeing all those watches there.

Then, noise. Coming from the hallway. MC sagged in relief at the familiar tone of Mammon’s voice, but once again a chill ran down their spine as they realized something was off. It was what he was saying, it just didn’t make any sense.

“Aye! Listen, you freakshow son of a bitch. I don’t care if you corrupted the GODDAMN Pope, if you don’t get my fucking money by the end of the day, your soul quota will be the least of your worries, got that?”

MC shrunk in on themselves, glancing around for a place to hide, but found nothing. The room was empty of furniture, only the walls covered in such expensive prizes. Mammon sighed as he shoved open the door. “Hey, MC, what are you doing here? I thought I just told you to get dressed to go out. You don’t look dressed.”

MC’s jaw dropped, and they squeaked out a quiet apology. Mammon looked different. Rich. They never thought they’d see the day where Mammon was dressed head to toe in designer clothes, and clearly without the stress of how he would pay for it.

“Well? You gonna get off your ass and do it, or do I have to start chopping pieces again?”

“Wha--” MC’s question never had time to hit air, as Mammon lost his patience, grabbing them by the hand to pull them up, only to freeze solid.

“MC?”

“Uh, um.. yeah?”

“Where’s your ring?

“My... ring?”

Clearly, Mammon was not pleased with the answer, his eyes turning stormy, and his casual smile souring. “Yeah. Your ring. The one that cost over half a million Grimm. That ring.”

“Oh, I, uh...”

“Not good enough, Doll.” The demon pulled them towards a door on the other side of the room. Dread pooled in MC’s stomach. Did a different room count as a secondary location? They heard you don’t get to live if you’re taken to a secondary location. The door opened into a room full of equipment, and their eyes widened in fear. The walls were lined in mirrors, presumably so they could witness their own torture.

Mammon cuffed their hand to a table, and no amount of yanking and pleading was getting it off. A buzzing sound started, the loud whine deafening MC as their heart turned into a hummingbird.

One by one, burning heat overwhelmed their nerves, and fingers began to fall away.

MC screamed.

Eventually, some unknown time later, MC blinked themselves awake, alone in the dark room with the fingers of their left hand in a discard pile beside them. Sobbing, they gathered the digits, shoving them into their pocket as they pounded on the door, to no avail, and then to the each of the mirrors. Nothing happened.

After an hour of futile knocking and screaming, their left hand covered in blood, they leaned their back against one of the mirrors, and slid to the ground, only to fall right through the cold glass.

LEVIATHAN:

Not again. Not again not again not again. This time, MC recognized where they were immediately. Undoubtedly this was Levi’s room, but already they were cringing backwards. Once again, things weren’t right. The fish in his room, they weren’t right, all staring hungrily and biting at the glass with sharp teeth. The wall reserved for collectibles was instead covered in old army pictures and weapons covered in glass. They tried the door with no success, and the only attatched room was the bathroom. Acting quickly, MC made the certainly unwise decision to break into the containers. If they had a weapon, maybe... 

They searched for a heavy item to break the glass, but found nothing, anything that could remotely be used for defense was chained or screwed down. They lifted their hands, sighing in relief that, if nothing else, all of their fingers were back where they were meant to be. With no other choice, MC reeled back with all of their strength, and punched the solid covering to one of the sharper looking items, even though they didn’t recognize a single one as a standard weapon. Once. Twice.

Immediately, an alarm blared, and their heart sank. MC inspected the glass as their heart pounded. Only the tiniest hairline crack, not enough to really damage the integrity of the case, and a speck of blood. They heard keys outside the door, and panicked, rushing to sit on the bed, looking terrified. Maybe, if they played along, they wouldn’t get hurt again.

“Levi!” MC cried out when he opened it, rushing into his arms. They knew Levi, he was just a nerdy little demon who wanted to be loved for who he was. They could play that part, they could! But they still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t the Levi they knew. “I was taking a nap and the alarm started going off! Please make it stop!” Hidden behind Levi’s back, MC’s fist was already throbbing from the punch.

How easy to be reminded that this was not their Levi, though, when he pushed them back, eyes narrowed. “The alarm doesn’t just go off, MC, what did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything, I swear!” They flinched back, already anticipating the pain that was to come. After all, Lucifer and Mammon hadn’t needed any proof to start breaking them. The pain didn’t come, though. Not immediately.

“Sit down,” he pointed to the bed. MC nodded quickly, shoulders dipped as they slunk away as quickly as possible. It would be harder for the envious demon to hurt them from across the room anyways. Levi headed straight for the pictures and weapons, inspecting each of them carefully, until he came to the one MC had managed to inflict minor damage on. He sniffed, leaning in and licking the blood from the glass. 

“That’s your blood,” he stated bluntly.

MC felt themselves go pale. “My blood? That can’t be right,” they tried to defend, but it was clearly too late. Levi’s tail lashed out, wrapping them up tightly, dragging them towards the bathroom. They wanted to cry, but all they felt was the burning of tears that refused to fall.

Levi kept them trapped as he filled the large, deep sink with water. Dread filled the pit of MC’s stomach. Certainly he wouldn’t-- They gasped as he dunked their head under, holding them under as they thrashed in the too-tight grip of the demon’s tail. He lifted them out of the water, and MC gasped, desperately sucking in air as their lungs burned, only for him to do it again. He held them under until their thrashing weakened, dizziness setting in.

He held MC up once again, looking them in the eyes as he slammed the back of their skull against the bathroom mirror, the human’s eyes rolling back as they passed out, blood trickling down their head. Levi’s grip loosened around them as he stared in shock at the sight of his lover sliding backwards through the glass.

SATAN:

They had no idea how much time had passed by the time they came to, but they were thankful for the lack of throbbing in their hand, and the ability to breathe. Satan. He had to be next. Sure, their common sense might be lacking, but MC still had basic pattern recognition on their side. Terror filled their veins as they realized that meant they weren’t even halfway through the day’s horror. 3 down, 4 to go. Then it’s all over... I hope, MC thought as they dragged themselves to their feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness that momentarily took them over.

Swallowing thickly, MC took in their surroundings. This place, at least, was far more familiar than any of the others so far. The library of RAD. They did not look closer, not wanting to know what was wrong, but if they had they would have noticed the dark theme of every book on the shelves. The library was empty, save for the sound of one other shuffling through books around the corner. MC didn’t desire to know who it was, opting to take a seat in one of the heavy, straight-backed chairs circling the nearest round table, meant for a group of 6.

There was no surprise when Satan turned the corner, arms stacked with books, but MC’s heart dropped into their stomach regardless. He was beautiful. More beautiful than they ever could have imagined, and they stopped breathing, just for a moment, as if they’d forgotten how. A blush pooled in MC’s cheeks as they stared, lips parted just slightly.

Satan laughed softly, offering a cheeky smile. “Well, darling? Are you going to pull the chair out for me or not?” They nodded quickly, rushing to his aid, but fear began to fill them as they saw his gorgeous face crease in the forehead, a small frown on his lips. “MC, you’re not wearing the dress I gave you. Did something happen?”

Their voice caught in their throat, but he seemed so genuine, so sweet, how could they leave him without answers? “It got dirty,” they mumbled, looking to the carpeted floor.

“Look at me,” he insisted, frown deepening. Something wasn’t right. He had trained such poor behavior out of his lovely MC long ago.

They looked up, bottom lip already trembling, and he knew something was deeply wrong. Satan set the pile of books on the table, taking MC into his arms, where they shook violently against his chest, the heaving sobs coming quickly. “Now, now,” he sighed. “I’ll make it better. I always do, don’t I?”

After all of the pain of the day, and the comfort of finally being held, MC barely noticed the sharp stab of the needle in their lower back as he slid his warm hands under their shirt. They blinked dreamily as they slowly relaxed, Satan catching them as they nearly collapsed to the floor.

Once again, they came to in a strange place. A room, decorated with soft things, a white vanity covered in makeup in front of them. They were smiling, their mind finally calm, and they were dressed in a darling floral getup that restricted their breathing just a little. MC tried to pause to think about it, something tugging in their chest saying they should be afraid, but it was too far to catch.

They hummed delightedly as they leaned forwards, hiding their dark under eye circles. Satan will be so proud! It was a thought they had never had before, but it felt perfectly in place here. The door clicked, and they looked up to find the smiling demon, melting once again at the sight of him. “Welcome back!” MC exclaimed brightly. Satan crossed the room, cupping their neck in his hand as he leaned forwards to kiss them, tilting them backwards until the back of their head pressed the glass of the vanity, and they tumbled through.

ASMODEUS:

MC’s head was suddenly incredibly clear as they dropped into a comfortable bed full of extra soft pillows. A hideous shudder racked their body, and they felt so dirty when they thought about Satan, and how he had clearly drugged them. More than that, their stomach rolled heavily, threatened to make them wretch when they realized that in a sick way, they had kind of liked it.

They forced themselves to shake it off as they looked around what must have been Asmo’s room. To be honest, it wasn’t all that shocking. The ceiling and the wall across from the bed were both made entirely of large mirrors, and sex toys lined the two side walls. The last wall was saved for the enormous bed that MC now laid on. As much as they wanted to sleep, to rest, even for a moment, they knew they had to get out as quickly as possible. All that was left after this was the twins, right? Maybe, if they were lucky, they shared a world the way they shared a room! So far, the constant in the escape had been mirrors. That was easy here, they were huge and readily available!

MC stood on shaky legs and made their way to the mirror wall, pounding on it with the side of their fist. “Hello?” They cried out. “C’mon! Let me through, please let me through!” Then, a floral scent filled the room, and it made MC’s head spin.

Thoughts of escape were quickly fading, replaced by the need to focus on the beautiful scent surrounding them. Their vision went dark, but they couldn’t find it in them to gasp. No matter, as it was quickly restored, when Asmo removed his hands from their eyes, revealing himself in the mirror behind them.

“Surprise!” He crooned, and MC could feel hot desire pool low in their stomach.

“Oh,” MC moaned softly, relaxing into his arms, still facing the mirror. 

“Naughty thing! You want me to fuck you against the mirror?”

“Mmm, y- uh... yesss...” Words were becoming increasingly difficult, and they leaned their forehead against the glass as their bottoms were yanked down, their ass pressed against the long, hard bulge of Asmo’s cock.

“Hmm... Only if you really deserve it! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Umm...” MC’s brow furrowed as they tried to remember, but it was gone. A blank spot in their memory. They looked for any other information about themselves, but it all came up empty, as they were thoroughly distracted by how needy they were becoming for the hot length they were rubbing against.

Asmodeus giggled in delight, spinning MC around to face him, invading their mouth with his tongue as he guided their hand to his cock, which they mindlessly began to stroke. Up and down, up and down, good pets stroke up and down... 

The demon seemed pleased with that, shoving their back hard against the mirror as he lifted them up to straddle his waist, only for MC to slip away into the rippling glass.

“Hey! But I was horny!”

BEELZEBUB:

MC was not lucky. The twins most definitely did not share a world, and they guessed it as soon as their ass hit the hard tile of the kitchen floor. They had to shake their head to regain a semblance of proper thought back, whining to themselves as they tried to use the counter to pull themselves to their feet. The counter was much taller than MC remembered, and they settled for using one of the drawers instead.

After a long minute with their forehead resting on the cool marble, things seemed mostly back to normal. At least now they remembered their own name. MC hesitated, ideas of what they could possibly be looking forward to with Beel running in a jumble through their not-quite-unscrambled head. The kitchen was empty. MC’s shoulders began to shake, as their body was wracked with silent sobs. They couldn’t handle any more of this. They couldn’t. But what other choice did they have? More than that, what could possibly be left? They’d been tortured physically, mentally, emotionally, and it was getting harder to see an end to the constant pain. How long had it even been? Hours? Days, weeks, years, was anyone even looking for them?

MC was shaken from their thoughts as heavy steps entered the kitchen. Beelzebub didn’t bother to speak to them, just picking them up and setting them on the counter as he took out a massive pot, cutting board, cleaver, meat tenderizer, seasoning, and began to rummage through the refrigerator for ingredients. His body began to... shift, his stomach sinking into his body, as he grew taller, arms thickening. He opened his mouth, and all that came out was a deep groan as his stomach growled. 

Unsure what to do, MC stayed frozen still, as if he would forget they were there, but as previously mentioned, luck was not something on MC’s side. Beel dropped a massive armful of groceries on the counter, and lifted the cleaver.

MC’s eyes widened, mouth opening to scream, but it was too late. He severed the bottom half of their leg without a word, and began preparing it for his stew. MC went pale, and passed out, tumbling to the floor. They woke minutes later, but stayed motionless on the floor, in shock at what had happened.

When he finished making his food, he picked up MC with one arm, and the pot with the other, carrying them both back to the dining room, and setting MC in a chair as he began to eat in front of them. Their stomach rolled at the sight of their own leg being ravenously devoured in front of their own eyes, and pushed out of the chair to vomit ungracefully on the floor beside them. Beel didn’t stop eating, but laughed heartily.

“Not hungry, MC?”

They shook their head, before noticing the mirror mounted on the wall near the table, sagging with relief, before realizing they honestly had no idea how the mirrors worked. Pounding on it hadn’t worked in Mammon’s torture room, or Asmo’ bedroom, so what was causing it?

“Beel?” MC questioned, looking up at him.

“Yeah?” He replied through his mouthful.

“Can you get that mirror down?”

Beel looked over at the mirror, confused, but shrugged and crossed the room to take it down, setting it on the floor. As he started to return to his seat, MC grabbed the pot of his food, and he snarled, shoving them backwards. They fell, and their back hit the glass. MC said a prayer of thanks as they sunk through.

BELPHEGOR:

Maybe it was the brothers. Maybe that was the trick? They had to be touching them for the mirror to work as a portal? No, no, that couldn’t be it. Asmo had been grinding on them with their face to the glass and they hadn’t gone through. Mammon wasn’t even nearby when they’d disappeared.

Fuck. So then what could it be? At least they had reached Belphie. This had to be the last of them, right? There were no secret brothers that no one had bothered to mention? The thought hurt, so MC pushed it aside. No. No. This had to be the last one. Another would kill me. The problem this time was obvious. They were in an open field, with no mirrors, and no Belphegor. The grass was long and dead as far as their eye could see, and there were no trees. Far away, they could see what looked like rain. Maybe that’s where they had come from, when they were with Lucifer? It had looked like it was going to rain then... But the rain, it was odd. Was that... Fire?

Another detail that wouldn’t help, would only haunt their nightmares. MC ignored it the best they could, and only hoped it wasn’t headed this way.

MC was not as perceptive as they believed, as was constantly proven, and it only took shape again as the long, waving puff of hair at the end of Belphie’s tail rose into the air, swaying in the cold breeze. They sighed, in both fear and relief. Whatever this final torture was, it was time to get it over with.

“Good morning,” the demon yawned, stretching and rolling in the grass. He laid on a small hoard of objects, likely brought to him by Beelzebub. Just little trinkets, things the other twin thought his brother would enjoy upon his awakening. MC saw figurines, small knives, jewelry. But no mirrors. Fear struck their heart.

“G-Good morning, Belphie.”

“How long was I asleep?” He bat a necklace away from his face with a lazy swish of his hand, and MC watched it skitter away into the grass.

“I’m not sure,” they replied honestly, sitting beside him. At this point, MC was resigned to whatever was about to happen. Their entire body already ached from healing over and over again.

“You’re still alive,” he rose to his haunches, revealing more of his trinkets, rubbing at his eyes. He seemed surprised by that revelation.

“Am I not supposed to be?” MC asked. 

“No,” Belphie answered, as he wrapped his body over theirs, drawing them into his nest of objects. MC thrashed and struggled as their air was cut off, fighting for breath, but the world began to darken at the edges.

Maybe this is it.

Their back hit a figurine with mirrored eyes that glowed in the reflection of the nearing rains of fire, and they tumbled.

DIAVOLO:

MC shuddered back to consciousness in a room that was soaked in blood, and they broke down, fists pounding the floor. “NO! NO NO NO! NO!” What was it now? What could it possibly be now? “I did it all! I went through all the brothers! What could FUCKING BE LEFT!” A drop of molten gold dripped from the ceiling, burning their skin, and they screamed at the top of their lungs in pain and frustration.

Diavolo laughed from the couch, his permanent grin still wide, simply watching the human lose their mind on the ground in front of him. MC looked up in shock at the sound, their watery red-rimmed eyes finally registering that they weren’t alone. “D-Diavolo?” They whispered, confused.

Horror burned hot through their veins at the thought that it might never be over. Who was next? Barbatos? The Demon King himself? Was this just an endless cycle through every demon in the Devildom?

They could feel their mind beginning to crack. Diavolo didn’t bother to lift a finger. The delicate creature was destroying themselves, no help required. He leaned back, as MC began ripping chunks of their hair out of their head, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“I think you’re ready now,” he stood, grabbing the gold leafed mirror, and lowered it over the curled up body of the human, until they had been completely swallowed, and the glass was flat against the floor.

ENDING:

MC was still screaming when they reappeared in the Devildom they knew and once loved, thrown across the dusty floor, coughing and sobbing. They flew to their feet, tearing out of the room and down the hall. They threw open every door until they finally found the exit, their sore legs carrying them all the way back to the House of Lamentation, where they ran up to their room, tossing their belongings haphazardly into a suitcase.

Lucifer was the first to get to the room, closely followed by the rest of the brothers. “MC?!” he questioned, concern lacing his voice. MC turned to the sound, all of the blood draining from their face as they looked at the brothers, their body convulsing in violent shakes as they saw all 7 brothers gathered at their door.

“Get away! Get away from me!” They shouted, hot tears flooding their face. “Don’t touch me!” But save for Levi and Beel respectfully hanging back, the other 5 only moved closer. “No!” MC could no longer hold on to their bag, dropping it on the floor, all of their clothes spilling out. They dropped to their knees, sobbing as they desperately tried to repack.

Now all of the boys were hesitating, unsure what to do. Satan knelt in front of them, still keeping his distance, his voice soft. “Hey, MC, are you okay? You know we’re here for you, right?”

“What the hell happened to ya?” Mammon piped in.

MC screamed, covering their ears. They could only remember the needle in their spine, growing weak in Satan’s arms, and being completely out of control of their own actions.

They shut the bag, steeling themselves as they shoved through the crowd of demons, all of them too afraid to try to stop MC’s flight. They sprinted down the stairs, disappearing out the door. They couldn’t stop running. Not now, not until their legs gave out. Maybe never again.

POST-SCRIPT:

If MC had bothered to ask Barbatos or Diavolo instead of snooping, they would have been able to inform MC exactly how the mirror worked. Or, alternatively, they could have simply checked the instructions engraved on the back. In curling script, it read: “To see an alternate life of your own, look into the mirror. To live your life in an alternate world, walk backwards into the mirror. You will be transported to the land of the people who viewed the mirror on the last day it was used. You will remain in each world until you go backwards through any available mirror, and will return to your original dimension upon completing the journey of the mirror’s day.

Example: Magdalene and John look into the mirror on Wednesday. On Friday, Hephaestus goes backwards into the mirror. He must visit both Magdelene’s and John’s worlds in order to return home.

Please use responsibly.”