#would he ever have gotten a game of his own like Shadow did?

[true-blue-sonic]

I always figured that Silver got decoupled from time after the mess that was 06. If Sonic and Blaze remember the events to some extent, why wouldn't it have effects on everyone else? Everyone else that was there at the end was from the present, and since Silver shows up later I think it makes sense that slotting him into the revised timeline didn't work perfectly.

That also makes sense. It is rather strange that Silver appears in Rivals again, despite the fact that he, for all intents and purposes, should have been fully wiped from time after Solaris' flame got blown out. The history of the world is so different from that point onwards without the release of Iblis, it's highly unlikely that Silver got born again normally. For me, it thus does make sense that there is some kind of force at play that ensured he existed again in Rivals with exactly the same appearance and powers... but as for what that is and how it works, I have no clue. And we don't know anything about what his life in the future has been like: if he got born to parents and grew up into a fourteen-year-old, or if he just popped out of nowhere as said fourteen-year-old with no history to speak of, or any other possible scenario here. Since he and Eggman Nega seem to know each other, he must have existed in the new future for at least a little while, is the one thing I feel we can conclude with any certainty.

Then again, I doubt that Sega really put a lot of thought into Silver's impossible existence; Sonic '06's plot is already a massive paradox-riddled chaos to begin with, so the fact that Silver still exists after the whole course of history got changed is hardly even the biggest issue there, lol. Nor do I think Sega will really dive into it much sometime in the future, since there is simply no reason for them to do so. All this stuff happened more than fifteen years ago, and Silver's alleged role as the third main male hedgehog (because they named him Silver partly to ensure future games with his name would be near Sonic's) very quickly got shot down with how hated '06 and he were. Right now with the state of the franchise and the lack of (strong) focus on any character who isn't the main four plus Shadow and Eggman and maybe Metal Sonic, I doubt that Sega will ever suddenly begin giving all sorts of backstory information for Silver of all characters. He's not exactly the most popular character to be giving that attention to, I think. Regarding Silver's existence in Rivals and onwards, I myself like to think that Silver somehow got 'reincarnated' by divine intervention, and got born and grew up as the Silver we know (with his appearance, powers, and personality from '06) 'normally' in the future. Maybe that divine intervention took pity on him after everything that happened in '06 and therefore gave him a second shot at life, wherein he could protect the future successfully. But Silver's future, his time travel and its consequences, and his history are shrouded in mystery and confusion, and I figure there might not be any decent and logical clarity about it anytime soon. But then again, time travel always has such issues attached to it since it is paradoxical by nature, haha. And it does allow for many different ways to think about how the Silver from '06 could have ended up in Rivals and onwards!

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

[theamberfist]

Susan Repellant | Alastor + Gen Z! Reader HC's

Platonic! Alastor with a Gen Z! Reader

Description: Alastor avoided you at first, but when he found out your mere presence was enough to keep Susan away, he quickly changed his tune.

Notes: (CW Alastor, Susan) (gender neutral reader) (mentions of cannibalism) (Gen Z Reader)

Words: 1,005

♡ No one knows how or why you ended up hell; just that you're here now. You're pretty new, and you don't talk about your backstory much

♡ They also have no idea how you ended up at the hotel. One day you just appeared and everyone kind of accepted it; especially because Charlie saw a lot of potential for redemption with a younger sinner

♡ It quickly became apparent that you were the most Gen Z to ever Gen Z

♡ Your slang, style of dress, and mannerisms really showed it, and at first Alastor avoided you for this reason

♡ He would never admit it, being the great and powerful Radio Demon, but he was terrified of you because he could never understand what the fuck you were saying and doing

♡ Also you seemed weirdly unafraid of him???

♡ Eventually, he came to attribute it to the fact that you had zero sense of self preservation. You once told him "if you killed me I would just respawn like a video game character" and because he doesn't know what that means, he's vowed to never do so and find out

♡ Charlie took notice of the fact that Alastor always avoided you. When you were in the lobby, he suddenly had an extremely important errand to run elsewhere. When you tried to talk to him, he was suddenly melting away into the shadows. When you were out of the hotel for the day, he seemed significantly more relaxed

♡ She, however, attributed this avoidance to him and you not getting along. So, she started creating situations to force Alastor to interact with you

♡ You didn't seem to care but he sure did

♡ Once, he was heading to Cannibal Town to go see Rosie for the day and just as he was halfway out the door, Charlie pulled you over and shoved you at him; suggesting he bring you with since you hadn't left the hotel (or your hotel room, for that matter) in several days. With that, she slammed the door behind you

♡ Alastor begrudgingly brought you with him, but refused to walk on the same side of the street as you. He remained a ways behind you and on the opposite side, claiming he "simply could not be seen with weaker sinners in public." In reality, he was too afraid to get near you and refused to give you the advantage of being behind him where he couldn't see you

♡ Finally, you got to Cannibal Town, where Alastor basically turned you lose and then went to rant to Rosie about how he'd had to bring you along

♡ She found his fear of you very funny and couldn't really relate to his fear because I think she's a lot more with the times than him. They had some tea and cannibal cakes together, but halfway through their conversation, there was a commotion outside that prompted both Alastor and Rosie to stand up and go check it out

♡ There, they saw you in the middle of the town, facing off against Susan with the rest of the cannibals crowded around you both in a circle

♡ You were both essentially tossing insults back and forth. She would comment about your 'distasteful' style of dress and you would simply reply with "okay, boomer" or something along the lines. She, like Alastor, had no idea what any of your slang meant and seemed to feel just as threatened by it

♡ Finally, Susan made an extra nasty comment about you and you started coming towards her, rolling up your sleeves and asking a nearby cannibal to 'hold your earrings'

♡ Susan immediately scrambled back before you could reach her, and that was when Alastor realized he might be able to use this dynamic to his advantage

♡ Rosie ended up breaking you both up, and you and Alastor left Cannibal Town soon after. It seemed like he'd now gotten over his own initial fear of you, because he came right up and walked beside you down the street, asking how you felt about the old woman

♡ When you told him you and Susan now had "serious beef" (which he assumed was a negative thing), he knew something very beautiful could be born from this awful day

♡ After that, Alastor stopped avoiding you. He was still cautious, but he would interact with you enough to maintain at least a neutral relationship

♡ In Alastor's eyes, you were akin to a feral cat. He mostly left you alone unless you approached him first, but would occasionally bring you small trinkets or gifts he thought you'd like as a way to maintain peace

♡ Think you sitting casually on the couch and Alastor approaches with a gift in hand, carefully extending it to you with one hand while keeping the rest of his body as far back as physically possible. When you can't reach what he's trying to give you, he just tosses it at your feet and runs

♡ Now, though, Alastor can walk through Cannibal Town with no fear of possibly running into an ornery old bitch. Why? Because (scary dog privileges) he has his own personal Susan repellant

♡ Whenever you're nearby, Susan stays as far away form you as possible. When she does come near, the two of you start beefing and she ignores Alastor anyway, which is also a win for him

♡ He refuses to visit Cannibal Town without you in tow now, and though he's still a little scared of you, Susan is even more so

♡ Meanwhile, Charlie is super confused and has no idea how you two managed to start getting along so fast, but she's glad you don't seem to hate each other anymore. She's even more happy when Alastor insists on bringing you with him every time he goes to see Rosie; thinking you're finally becoming friends

♡ In reality, he just doesn't want to deal with any mean old ladies, and you seem more than happy to throw hands with Susan in his place

♡ So in the end, it works out for both of you

[lure-of-writing]

His little sister

Summary: Azriel point of view of the things you do as Rhysands little sister (This should be read only after reading all in a days work and knock before you enter otherwise it probably won't make any sense as you need the know what happened in the other two for this to make sense )

word count: 2.5 k

Note: Hello! For a while I was stumped on how to continue the little sister series so boom! I present to you Azriel's pov. I would love to hear what you guys think about having things from this perspective also! please don't be shy and let me know!

The playful touches and not so subtle glances across the room paired with the seductive bit of your lip as it lifts into a forbidden smile is not lost upon the spymaster of the night court. In fact everything you did never went unnoticed by him. As Rhysands little sister he was more or less forbidden from having any relationship with you that was purely platonic or sibling-like. Much to the high lord's irritation, once you learned of the rules set in place for the general and the shadow singer, you had made it your own personal mission to see just how much you could get away with. Just how far could you bend the rules before your older brother snapped? 

Azriel was well aware of the game you played in hopes of causing your brother a small amount of distress. Unfortunately for him, he respected his high lord and his wishes to much to counter your advances with some of his own but that doesn’t mean he can’t help you accomplish your lifes works of making your brother rub his temples with a long sigh and a shot of whiskey or which ever bottle of alcohol appeared before him first. 

It had been just a few short weeks after your fifteenth birthday when you had learned about the guidelines Rhys had set for the two other males in your family. Being told what to do never sat well with you, neither did being told who you can and can’t do things with. At first your reaction was to find your brother and argue with him until he couldn’t think straight but when you were on the way to his office you bumped into your favorite member of the bat boys.  Azriel was leaning  against the wall of Rhysands office waiting for his meeting with Helion when you were stuck with a brilliant idea. “Az?” his hazel eyes shifted from the dark oak doors to where you stood in the middle of the hall. “Yes?”  as soon as the word had left his mouth he knew you were up to something. It was the way your eyes lit up in excitement and you shuffled over to him with hurried steps. Huddled close to his body you beaconed him to lean down so you could whisper in his ears. Wordlessly he follows your commands. “Would you like to help me make Rhys question why he was blessed with being my brother?” 

The sly smile and trouble that brewed in your eyes was enough to get him to say yes. Not like he could ever say no to you in the first place but that wasn’t important. From that moment on he would allow you to flirt with him and crawl into his lap with no rejection. This drove Rhysand up a wall. He said that they could not try to flirt with you but you never said anything about it being the other way around and you had taken full advantage of that each and every single time the opportunity presented itself. 

Family dinners amongst the inner circle were never an uncommon thing but since everything that transpired over the last fifty something years had the family dinners becoming a more common tradition. After dinner talks and catching up had been moved to the living room. Silently Azriel sat by himself, listening to his family talk. Perfectly content with listening rather than speaking. While Cassian went on this third rant about why he was certain that he could fight Bryaxis, if and big if here, they weren’t so scary looking, when you had gotten up from where you were sat next to Mor on the floor. He watched as you left the room and not even a second later his shadows informed him that you were getting another wine. 

His attention shifted from his brother onto you when you had reentered the room with a glass full of wine and strutted over to him and made yourself comfortable in his lap. Az would never admit it but the feeling of your arm draped over his shoulder and playing with his hair was one of his favorite feelings in the world. As your body leaned into his, the temperate difference between the two of you became very apparent to the shadowsinger. Without thinking he placed his much warmer hand on your freezing and goosebump covered leg to help warm you back up. The slit in your dress had done nothing to help keep you warm. 

Without saying anything he watched as his brother marched his way over to where you had chosen to sit, also known as Azriels lap. He watched as Rhys reached his hand out in hopes of pulling you off of closest friend and he watched as Rhysands face morphed into one of confusion to anger as Azriels wings furled around you to keep your brother from grabbing you from him. If there was one thing that the shadowsinger knew with one hundred percent certainty, it was that you could handle yourself. The context didn’t matter, you could always handle yourself. So while you and your brother went back and front he mindlessly began to rub comforting circles where his hand had found purchase on your leg. And once Rhysand had made his way back to his mate, he had leaned down and pressed his lips against your hairline. “You are a menace” giggling you smile up at him before shrugging and taking a sip of your forgotten wine. 

Visiting the court of nightmares was never something that brought Azriel much joy. More often than not he was watching for any threats against his high lord's life, now he had to worry about his high lady also. It wasn’t as if Azriel wasn’t capable of handling such a task but when you had revealed that you would also be in attendance, it brought Azriel another level of stress. He knew that you could handle the court politics and the volleyball of words sent back and forth with hidden messages. Hell you had even been trained by all three males and Morrgian. You were more than capable of looking out for yourself but there has always been a part of Azriel that couldn’t rest when he knew you could be in danger at any moment. 

Now the notoriously quiet male, while known for not saying much, always had something to say when it came to you. There was no comment too small that you made that didn’t get an answer from Az in return.  As you finally made your way down the staircase to your awaiting family Azriel had just about a thousand thoughts and compliments he could give you at any moment. While your brother had a meltdown in the background all Azriel could focus on was you and as you made your way down the last few steps he reached his hand out helping you the rest of the way down. Shamelessly he looked you up and down not caring that your brother just might beat his ass for looking at you in such an outfit. Once his eyes reached your, you sent him a wink and beaming smile. Az could tell that you had wanted to ask him what he thought of your clothing choices but decided that dealing with your brother would be the best idea  before he dragged you back up the stairs himself and forced you to change. 

While at the place of nightmares the shadows that sung to Azriel hung close to his body, only leaving to secretly watch over you and make sure you were ok. For most of the night all was well, at least as well as things can get in the court of nightmares. That was until his shadow came back to inform their master of the predicament that had presented itself to you. He watched from afar as you pushed your way out of the crowd and towards himself. Pushing off of the pillar he was once perched against he made his way towards you. Az’s blood began to boil when he watched the random fae male wrap his arms around your waist and pulled your body into his. In two long strides he was in front of the strange male and yourself, demanding he release his grip on you or he would do it for him. There wasn’t a part of Azriel that enjoyed the violence he brings upon those he was tasked with gathering information from but holding truth teller to the male's neck did in fact bring him joy. 

Upon your release he guided you back to where he was previously standing to make sure you were ok and that the random male didn’t inflict any harm to you. After his thorough evaluation of your body met his standards he returned his gaze to meet your and suddenly your cold hand was pressed against his warm cheek and the burn of the two temperatures had never felt so nice before. Once again your hand had found its resting place in his hair and your lips on his and Azriel swore hes never felt something as soft as your lips on his.  As soon as your lips had met his, Az knew he was in for a whole world of pain when Rhysand got his hands on him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Az recently pulled away when he felt the anger of his high lord coming at him with the purpose of making him bow to the power radiating off of Rhysand. “We should probably get out of here before he kills you.” looking down he saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes and he positive nobody can pull off that look quite like you can. The wink you sent over your shoulder as you grab his hand pulls him out of the trance you had put him in. Willingly Azriel followed your lead out of the ball room while you bumped into his arm periodically. “Honestly he just might kill us both.” he felt you mumble into his shoulder as you hid your face and laughter in his body. Chuckling he couldn’t help but agree before winnowing you back to the house of wind. 

After Rhyand had actually considered beating the shadowsinger to a pulp your usual antics had dwindled in frequency which saddened Azriel more than he was willing to admit. During training you kept clear of him in case your brother didn’t approve of you even looking in his general direction and it had been almost two weeks since he had last talked to you for more then five minutes and honestly it was starting to drive him crazy. After a family dinner consisting of you, Nesta, Cassiand and himself he finally approached you. “You're going to the Summer court tomorrow right?” As the resident know-it-all he already knew your answer but he waited nonetheless “Yes?” Azriel watches as you place your book in your lap to give him your full attention and he swears he could bask in it forever. “I’m not doing anything for the next week, would you like me to go with you?”  The beaming smile you sent him was confirmation enough. 

That's how he found himself in your room the next morning helping you get ready. You had asked his opinion on basically every piece of your outfit and Azriel had never been so happy to assist someone put together their clothes for the day. After you had pulled all the needed pieces of clothing from your closest you held up the corset you picked for him to see. “I’ll need your help putting this on.” And that's how once again Azriel feared Rhys would consider pummeling him once more. 

Not once during Rhysands withering glare did Azriel stop pulling the strings of your corset until they were tight enough and only then did he gently pull the strings into a bow before removing his hands from your body. After finishing his assigned task Az thought it was best to leave the siblings to deal with each other and he would wait for you on the rooftop to begin your journey to the summer court. Only after he could assume was a long lecture from your older brother on being safe did the two of you join him on the roof. “I swear if a single hair on her head is out of place I will kill you.”  As much as Azriel wanted to laugh at the worn out sound of his friend he simply nodded his head before acknowledging what he said. 

The week in the summer court with you felt more like two days. Any time with you never felt like enough. On the way back Rhysand had talked to him and you that he wanted a debrief before you did anything upon your return. Gently he set you back on the ground once he had landed in front of the river house and he already missed the feeling of your body on his. He really wished and in that moment that he never agreed to those rules Rhysand had set for him and Cassian all those hundred of years ago. 

The silence that engulfed the room would make anyone who didn’t know the two males squirm from how uncomfortable it was, but these two males had dealt with much more stressful problems and had sat in more silence than the average people did. Azriel knew that lately your antic had been pushing the line but he had never stopped you nor had he ever thought too. Mainly because he didn’t want you too but also in fear that if he asked you to stop you would never come to him again. “Truly Rhys there is nothing going on between me and your sister. You and I both know she only does this to get under your skin and she does that very well. As long as it bothers you then she will keep doing it. You know this.” 

After a long and much needed talk Azriel made his way to the stand outside of the river house collecting a much needed breath of fresh air while he came to terms with his conversation with his oldest friend. A few moments pass before you come waltzing out of the house as if you had accomplished some great mission. “Maybe next time he’ll knock” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about and couldn’t help but laugh at what you said. He didn’t need to ask you what you did as the one shadow that always kept you company told him all about what you had just done to your brother and his poor unsuspecting mate. Without another word Azriel scooped you into his arm while pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Gods he wished this wouldn’t be the last time he felt your skin against his lips.

Rhysand had asked him to put a stop to your behavior towards him. Not that you made the shadowsinger uncomfortable, gods no, you could never do that. It was just you were your brother's pride and joy and he refused to let the males he considered his brothers to be the reason your heart broke. Rhysand would never be able to forgive or look at Azriel the same and he knew that. Azriel just wished the golden string tying the two of you together didn’t have to be hidden from everyone including you.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 ❤︎ | yandere!xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

art by @/syaden8 on twt!!

⟢ cw: a failed escape attempt from them... yandere, dark themes, petnames, mutilation (xiao, scara), violence, drugging (scara) etc. please proceed with caution! thank you.

⟢ "your order's denial is causing me trial !"

"Ah."

XIAO's lips moved, and it was that single noise that escaped.

For your room lay barren, empty, cold, the harsh winter breeze drafting through the shattered window, the bars covering it having been forcibly bent aside. "It..." For a moment, his body swayed, his own legs unable to support his weight. Then, his balance stabilized, his once by a fraction wider eyes having narrowed. "It seems my songbird has escaped."

Unacceptable. The word repeated in his head, like a mantra, a prayer, resounding within his ears, despite the silence, despite the cold that bit at his skin as he trudged through the snow, his spear at his side. A tiny, devilish voice that tugged on his ears and whispered out tales of his sin.

"Found you."

"N-No- please-" His gaze sharpened in annoyance. Desperate, your voice hoarse and cracking by the syllable, hurling yourself forward one more step, just one more, your bloody, bare feet scraped and bruised. This wasn't right, how come you seemed so distressed?

No, you of course sounded better as his songbird, in a pristine little cage, singing for him, and only him, happy tunes of joy and pleasure.

"...And as a songbird can live with its wings clipped, surely you'll understand if I...?"

The shackles locked tight around your wrists, and your useless, wretched legs, bones shattered by a single blow.

It's an unfortunate predicament, but it's the only way. ❤︎

"Oh, so the chase is on?"

CHILDE shouldn't be laughing, but oh, he was.

It's a twisted sound, with the corners of his mouth distorted upwards in a haphazard smile, his eyes blown as a dark flush of red descended upon his cheeks. "So you've decided to play this little game of cat and mouse. Very well, if that's what you want, darling!"

You aren't making this difficult enough. His keen gaze spots all the traces you've left behind, broken branches, ruffled leaves, a torn piece of the clothing he had gifted you... it's all imbued with your essence, honey sweet on his lips.

Why would you even want to leave him?

It's that thought that makes him pause upon finding you, your trembling form sprawled across the bloodied snow as he stands over you, his own shadow casting you in darkness.

That's right, why would you? He's been nothing but loving. He's catered to your every need, has he not? He's bought this house for you, all the clothes you wear, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in... what right did you have to defy his affections, now that he had made them ever so clear?

If anything, it was insulting.

Oh, but did he truly feel insulted? After all, an offended person wouldn't have taken you like that, wouldn't have knocked you unconscious and wouldn't have carried the delicate you in his arms back to home.

Maybe a better description would be "longing." Longing for your praise, longing for your thanks, longing for the smiles you'd send his way... how come your eyes have faded, since then? It's strange, he's never seen you look so... determined before, not since today.

Ah, but what did it matter?

This puny escape attempt of yours... his tongue tasted bitter.

It wouldn't happen again. He'd make sure of it, so please, don't mind the chains, would you? ❤︎

"They... dare?"

SCARAMOUCHE's expression contorts to one of rage, his brows sharply angled downwards and his violet eyes wide, quivering.

Haha... what a fool he was. He should've been more attentive, how had he not noticed your strange movements? The way you gave him a forced smile everytime he returned home, the way you'd greet him at the door with the dinner you made, and he had finally thought you had accepted his confession all those weeks ago, he finally thought you had gotten used to and started liking your life here, finally thought-

And then he thought nothing at all as his body swayed and fell to the ground. The audacity, to go and dig through his things, to go, find, and use the very drug he had used to bring you home.

By the time he awoke, the house was but a cold expanse, barren of your warmth, and he clenched his fists so tightly, his nails kissed red crescents into his skin that weeped with every flex of his fingers.

"To pull such a parlor trick against me like this... ah, doll. Don't think you'll get away with this leniently."

When he found you, not "if", he'll make sure to reprimand you properly. If breaking your spirit wasn't enough, then he'd have to break your mind too. He's already decided that he'll reshape the pure thing with his own, dirtied hands, into something that will burn only for him.

Surely, a couple missing limbs, here and there, wouldn't obstruct that light, would it now? ❤︎

(a/n) as i said on my sideblog, something about writing for toxic mentally distressed emotionally broken and heavily reliant yandere characters who turn to violence to show their love is. just so. oddly... comforting?? was going to make this longer and then some shitty shit shit went down so. yay. tears.

if you enjoyed please consider following me or leaving a note on this post!! they are very appreciated, and i am very close to hitting a follower goal that i want to reach before the new years ! thank you.

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-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[yandere-sins]

AAAHHH THE HANDMAIDEN READER KISSING THE LOWER SOLDIER IDEA IS SO CUTE IM CRYING- Imagine if the reader saved the soldier; he was injured badly in the middle of a frozen lake and due to him falling down the lake cracked. So reader jumped into the lake, saved him, and gave him a mouth to mouth cpr. She also took care of him, but one day she's too focused on taking care of him and she didn't realize that Childe's too close to the room already. It caused her to rush and drop her handkerchief.

Jealousy, jealousy is all I can say to that ;)

Sorry for the long wait, but I also have one more draft with a naughty story about the handmaiden concept as apology! Hopefully I'll get to finishing it soon!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Childe waited in dead silence in the shadows as he watched you take care of the soldier.

Puddles of water surrounded the two of you, more than just from the snow being dragged in, and not even the fire you lit could dry them fast enough. Your clothes clung to you, the curves of your body inevitably burned into his mind as you wrapped a bandage tightly across the soldier's chest, securing his arm skillfully.

This was the closest he had ever gotten to you. Even though he lost the pursuit somewhere between the steep Snezhnaya mountains and the frozen lakes that lay dormant in the snow, he was able to pick up your tracks just hours later. You were never that careless, never that boring when it came to running from him, so seeing you with the soldier came as a surprise. Childe wanted to capture you; you wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. And like magnets, you two kept attracting and repelling each other constantly.

But not now. Childe was finally able to see you in your full glory, your back turned, but the beauty of your muscles visible through the dark fabric that clung to you. Every piece of clothing was so expensive, yet it did nothing to elevate the natural beauty you already possessed. The few glimpses of your hair were enough to make him sweat, and although he was so close, he couldn't bring himself to barge in and destroy this blissful moment.

He had gone completely mad, but he knew that the second you noticed him, you would slip from his grasp, and the game would start anew.

Although he loved the chase, Childe appreciated the moment of respite. He was the shadow hunting you down, and right then and there, that shadow remained behind the gap in the door, hoping for one more glimpse. One more memory revealed, to add to his little, depraved library of fantasies, your face as elusive as you were.

Of course, he hated how much your focus was on the soldier. That he got to see your beautiful face without the hood, receive your kind treatment, feel your soft touch, and be in your outstanding presence. But Childe was also thankful to him for being a fool. Otherwise, he'd never gotten you to settle down for a while, long enough to catch up and witness you in all your glory.

His downfall was simple—you, always you.

Childe should have waited, should have gotten his fix like any good addict, and then acted. But his patience was wearing so thin as he watched you check the soldier for other wounds, inspect bruises, and gently comforted him with verbal reassurance. Childe, too, got hurt. Bled and trembled, but you never showed him the same grace. Perhaps he should have injured himself on one of your chases, badly enough for the Tsaritsa to order you to retrieve this pitiful, desperate boy.

He should have waited, but his body slipped through the gap on its own, taking one step after the other. You were close enough for him to grab your hair, twist you around, and reveal your face to him before he'd maul you like the madman he was. But in the trance Childe found himself in, he forgot one very significant risk to his plan.

The puddles.

The sweetest, purest gasp escaped you as you jolted to your feet, grabbing your hood as you rose. Before Childe could latch onto you or the soldier realized what was happening, you were out of the window, gone with the cold wind of the snowstorm that blew in. Childe stood motionless as he tried to register the loss of the chance he had just blown before retracting his hand, covering his face as he began to laugh. Quietly first, then louder until the desperation took hold.

"Sir?" the soldier asked, confused, afraid, in pain, and immediately, all laughter ceased as Childe breathed out, feeling like he was truly going crazy. What an amateurish mistake he made. You could not be bested when he made such dumb mishaps.

"What they look like?" he groaned, raking his hand down his face, needing the pain of his nails to settle the rage he felt at his own failure.

"Huh?" the soldier answered, stupidly so. Did the broken arm muddle his brain?

"What," Childe growled, "did they look like?"

The soldier gulped visibly at the rapid changes of demeanor, stuttering as he tried to explain your angelic features. It sounded nothing like you. He didn't even get close to describing how wonderful and amazing you were, even though his face slowly turned red. It pissed Childe off. That lowlife had no right to get flustered imagining your face. He was in no position to look happy and smitten with you when you already belonged to Childe.

"You're fucking useless," Childe mumbled in the middle of the soldier's miserable attempts to describe your beauty to Childe, who knew you best. Who knew you perfect and proper at the Tsaritsa's side as well as violent and bloody in the middle of your enemies' dead bodies.

Immediately, the soldier's stammering came to a halt as he looked down, regret in his eyes that matched how pathetic he was. It was then that Childe let his attention drift, his eyes falling on the soldier's healthy hand, which was clutched weirdly around a piece of fabric.

"Give me that," he growled, and the soldier reluctantly tried to hide his hand at his side. "Now."

Childe's eyes widened as he realized what the soldier had held onto, the delicate embroidery of the Tsarita's crest on the handkerchief nothing a mere footman would receive. "They gave it to me to help with the pain," he muttered, and Childe cared very little how hurt the soldier sounded now that he had to give up his trophy.

Letting the handkerchief dangle in front of his face for a while, Childe turned towards the window you left from, regretting not going after you. Eventually, he brought it to his face, rubbing the soft, damp fabric against his cheek, the feeling resembling your caress. A spark of delight went through him as he noticed your scent still clinging to it faintly, and he realized you must have left him this gift out of affection. It had been right not to follow you directly, or else he might have missed your gracious present! So even if he lost the chance to finally have you all to himself, not everything had been lost after all.

"I could paint them for you," the soldier suddenly said. "Arms busted, but if you want to see them so much, I could draw their likeness for you once I'm better, Sir."

Childe slowly twisted back, a newfound hope in his eyes as he looked at the soldier. A maniacal grin found its place on his lips as he stared the man down, unblinking.

"My, why didn't you say so earlier?" he asked, his mood improving by the second. First the gift, now a chance to see your face after all! Your picture deserved the space beside him in bed until the day he'd get to rest your body there. Childe's expression was so sinister that it made the soldier shiver—not from the cold this time, but from the deadly aura the Harbinger emitted.

Grabbing the man by his healthy arm, Childe pulled him to his feet, steading the soldier before they could make their way out of the west wing. "I know just the place, Comrade! I'll get you to a good doctor and make sure your arm is fit in no time."

"And then," Childe added, his smile turning into an excited, boyish grin, "You can tell me all about my beloved."

[threepandas]

Bad End: Loyalties

Did you know? That one of the unexpected benefits to being reborn, with your memories intact, is that you carry your first life's cultural taboos with you? All your knowledge, all your superstitions, every horror movie you've ever so much as glanced at. Like a dowry, brought with you, into this, your new life.

You end up not giving as much weight, to local superstitions. Especially the ones you know are not true. How? Well, sometimes? In the mad, random, overwhelming blur of the Cosmos? You end up in a Reality that to YOU? Was once fiction. Living in a snapshot of that world's history, as it plays out. Just as it was prophesied.

It's kinda disorienting. But? You get used to it.

Though you DO have to make a choice. Quickly. And decide where in that prophecy you want to stand. After all... there are many ways it could go. It WAS a "game". A story of romance. That other's lives would be impacted? That nations might rise or fall? That people could and will DIE? Oh, that is irrelevant! Isn't it?

They are young.

In LOVE.

Obviously, I could not risk my life on such irresponsible grounds. Plant my flag and swear loyalty, to such fickle hearts. I would die. They would get me killed, for their love story. No... No, what I needed? Was something stable. Selfish. Someone who would claim, but would KEEP.

I needed someone who rewarded loyalty. Someone who praised cleverness. Protected his own. Had (and would again) kill any who set untoward eyes upon those who served him. Someone guaranteed to survive until the end. Machiavellian, scheming. A soft and twisting word. Whispered kindly, in so many, many ears.

The power behind whichever throne he chooses.

Most Senior Royal Advisor, Iwamoto Nobutoshi. My boss. Or, really, Master I guess. Boss was for gangsters. Which was still weird for me. Part of me still twitched violently, every time I said the word "master". My brain insisting, it was either a sex thing or a slavery thing, and that I should respond with Immediate Violence at being told to call anyone that.

Yeah... there ARE downsides to keeping your memories. It really is a mixed bag, all told.

But, hey! All those horror movies I've seen in passing? Scary Horror-Terror Stuff I've absorbed through cultural osmosis? Has been really coming in handy, not gonna lie. So has my understanding of what constitutes "psychological warfare" and "mindfuck-y, liminal, torment".

It should NOT be as cathartic as it is? But... not gonna lie. I've gotten weirdly GOOD at this. Learned to become one with the shadows. Sneak into and out of places, I rightfully should not BE. Usually with a bucket of animal blood from a butcher's. Occasionally, if I KNOW they have someone who can test it? I get the bucket from the morgue.

Which? Is gross as FUCK. And disrespectful. But I have to believe they'd be totally down for fucking with some Evil Rich Assholes. Plus I donate funds to their family's anonymously. So I like to think it balances out? Still don't like to do it, though. I feel like the longer I've been here, the more my morals have chipped away...

Where was I? Right! Tonight's "art"!

I forget where that quote was from, exactly? But? It was true. People do not look up nearly enough. Worse yet, most manors around here? Had attics and weird pockets in their ceilings, with easy access to the floors below. I had? Gotten past? SO many patrols this way. So, SO many.

Frankly, an ALARMING number of patrols.

I'd taken to putting traps in the ceiling, back home.

What I was aiming for, here, was the private rooms. Not the hallway outside the private rooms, oh no, those would be patrolled to hell and back. But inside. Plus? It would have that added, spicy, "we can get you where you sleep" fear factor. And? Having their oh so TRUSTED, highly trained gaurds? See NOTHING? Perfect~

Cause? We? Were doing a good ol fashioned "Sins of The Past" Haunting!

The trick, if you don't actually have any good oppo-research available? Is to be vague, yet aim for things you do know about them. Let them fill in the blanks. Such as? The VERY convenient deaths of Lord Jackass's other brothers, which cleared HIS way towards power. There's no PROOF of any wrong doing... but~? Guilty hearts DO tend to tell on themselves~!

Slinking down the rope ladder silently, into the frankly hideously overdecorated room. I got to work. On silent feet, I began to set the stage. Furniture, lifted and silently stacked, around the snoring Lord and his equally unconscious wife. Expensive pottery, covered in a thick and padded bag, before it is struck.

As though some silent blast of power had gone off. Each piece, placed right back where it had been, now broken, on the floor. Next? The most time consuming, but subtle, one. Also the one that would spread farthest as gossip. Using a custom made seam ripper, tear out the eyes of every example of his family's crest on his clothes. On his bedding.

Yes, ALSO on the robe he wore to bed. That one takes very gentle movement. Very nerve-wracking, not gonna lie. You gotta go slow. Once you DO? Good ol "tears of blood." Just paint it right on the cloth, let it stain. As though the crests were weeping.

THEN, you paint the room in nicely vague horror movie script.

"Brother. Why?" "We know. We know EVERYTHING. How could you?" "We are tired of waiting, join us. Join us Brother." "We are witness, a shame upon our blood."

And other such gems! Plus the good ol hands scrambling, covered in blood, to a point in the center of the room. Put a round painters cloth down, and~? Gently sift ash and bone dust (I dried up bones from the kitchens, then ground um! Also great for gardening.) over the floor. Step UP, to my ladder, kit away, grab the cloth, and? Off we go!

Room successfully haunted.

Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole, really. Is it a BIT much? Yeah, probably. People lose their SHIT. I apparently have "a talent", according to my teammates. Which is nonsense. It's all B-grade horror move nonsense and house of horrors gross outs. Visceral ick. But it's NEW here, so I guess that counts? Even if I am plagiarizing the FUCK out of somebody.

Thankfully, though, dispite my "talent"? Master Iwa- ...No, wait, didn't he tell me recently to call him by his name? Uncomfy. A good sign, obviously, but... uncomfy. Don't Like that he knows who I am. I was aiming for, you know, mid rank? Not disposable but pretty forgetable? But now I have a Useful Skill. Have proven to be INTELLIGENT.

Fuck, I even made the mistake of cleaning up and organizing PAPERWORK. You know, paperwork? A thing you would have to READ and MAKE SENSE OFF, to be able to organize? Have to create some kind of workable and efficient system, by WHICH to sort? I thought it was an assistants! Not HIS!

One fuck up is all it takes.

He will find you, he WILL rip the secrets out of you, and yes! He WILL smile pleasantly the entire fucking time! It's horrifying! Kinda cool! I'm pretty sure my life flashed before my eyes! Ha ha... Holy SHIT.

Right, where...? Right! My "talent"! Master Nobutoshi? Big on "right piece for the right purpose". Yeah, you could FORCE people to go against their ideals, their beliefs, their very nature... but you can only do so, for so long. Fear fades. Pain can be overcome. Not everyone fears death.

He regards it as foolish, inefficient, to drag and force and scream.

No, no! He? Oh, he merely... suggests. A softly spoken recommendation. A guiding hand, to show you, the best use of your skills. And if that guidance just so happens to serve his interests? Well... what a wonderful coincidence~ How fortuitous.

Heavy hands get broken. Snapped at and slapped away. But a gentle touch? A little nudge? Sweet whispers in your ear? That tell you what you want to hear? Guide you where HE wants you to be? Well, THAT is so much harder to notice, isn't it. So, SO much harder to fight.

I chose pretty well, I like to think. Because no matter the game? He'll come out on top. Probably laugh, as all the other players, dance to his tune. Who WOULDN'T want to be on his team? His team wins.

And winning? Means I survive.

Dropping off my kit in the shed at the back of the Iwamoto guest residence gardens (where, should it be found, the presence of such things could be blamed on unscrupulous guests), I trudge back towards the servants quarters. I'm tired and filthy. It's the kind of late? Where it's flipped right around to become early.

Luckily, me and my teammates plan ahead, so there is a still moderately warm bath waiting for me. God bless Aiko and all she stands for. For this? I'll even carry her back to our room. Since, once again, she's decided "fuck it" and just curled up on the stack of towels. Doesn't even fit. She just shoved her upper body in the cubby and called it good.

I snort and step over her. Get my fuckin bath. Late night shifts are the worst. But we all take um. I focus on getting clean, grabbing my passed out lump of a roommate, and heading to bed. Fucker drools on me. Snorkels right in my ear. Takashi laughs silently as we pass him, hold the door for me. Seems to be heading out as we head in.

Master Iwamoto's shadow network never truely sleeps, after all.

Always someone doing something.

Dumping us both in our beds, I greatfully pass out. Do not dream. Greet near mid-day as my dawn, ready to start it all over again. Up, a quick bath, dressed and ready to go. Nothing to seem here but us identical servants. We go in shifts. All the better to be as disorienting as possible, to outsiders.

Everyone who looks like each other? Grouped on a shift. Taught to use make up to make themselves even MORE indistinguishable. We pick someone about in the middle, appearance wise, of each group, as the Standard. Everyone is to copy them. For my group, it's me.

I pick up the whispers and news, that have been collected since this mornings report. Second one of the day. At least, second one when we're not on "war" footing. As I walk, I glance down. Technically not supposed to read these, but I'm fairly sure he knows I do at least read the top page. Is amused by it. I'd have seen punishment otherwise. Or removed from delivery.

Oooh~ lookie THERE! How SCARY~☆! It appears someone was HAUNTED last night! By the ghosts of their dead brothers, you say? Angry ancestors, you say? Wife hysterical? Fled to her parents house? Sister, in tears, before the king? Oh my, oh my~!

I struggle not to grin. That would give the game away. Me? Reading something I'm not supposed too? I would NEVER. He he he~

Casually weaving through other servants, I keep reading. Climbing stairs and ducking down halls. Huh. Wait a second... slowing, I step to the side of the covered walkway. Re-read that last paragraph. Near the end of the page? Is something... strange. Not right.

I REMEMBER the Plot.

Made SURE I would remember. Wrote it down, then again and again. Memorized it, like my life literally depended on it, while it was still somewhat fresh in my mind. Because, frankly, it DID depend on it. Even now? Decades later? I can recite it by rote.

So why? Pray tell? Did our blushing Protagonist? Have a BROTHER.

Furthermore, why the FUCK have I not NOTICED this before?

Glancing around, I see far too many watchful eyes, to properly investigate. So I straighten. Pleasant, vague, expression in place. I walk forward. In no hurry at all. Definitely going to deliver these papers. Certainly not delaying in the slightest. Nothing to see here, everyone! Go about, what you were. We are all friends here, RIGHT?

I step into the building at the far end of the covered pathway. Resist diving into the first room available. That? Would be too predictable. I go for the THIRD. One quick grab, slide, and side-step? And~? Poof! Like I was never there. Servant? WHAT servant? These halls are EMPTY. You're clearly seeing things... are you okay?

Immediately, I lift the reports. Well, immediate after a look around the room, of course. Don't want to get CAUGHT. Flipping to the second page, I start reading. What's this about a Brother? What BROTHER?! There IS no BROTHER!

....except there IS.

Somehow.

And HE? Is a very, VERY clever man. One who lived quietly. Like a ghost. After the failed assassination attempt that nearly killed him and his mother. Wait a- ...failed? That sounds...? Familiar.

I have to close my eyes and think, to remember. Lean my head back and let my brain churn. It's... obscure. A tiny detail, mentioned offhand. Single line of dialog, in only one of the routes. Not even the MAIN routes. But one of the Secret ones, that you have to unlock... in the... collectors? Edition? I think? There was that play through video, right? We were eating... a noodle dish of some kind...

Fuck, I can't remember it. Not fully.

But I remember ENOUGH.

I REMEMBER? That it WASN'T a FAILED attempt. That Protagonist-chan's family didn't talk about them. For vaguely plot relevant reason. There was healing and good vibes. Follow your dreams, kids. Buy now. Etc etc...

He... survived? How? Damn it. Doesn't say. But... shit. He's cause a LOT of trouble, isn't he? And it looks like he's kind... railroading his sister into a specific route. That, or keeping her from emotionally cheating on her fiancée. Can't tell. Haven't met her. Looks like he's also patented a few... is that a fucking WHISK? Holy shit. These are all early industrial revolution!

Looking up from the reports, I stare blankly into space. Is... is the Protagonist's brother... ALSO a Reincarnator? What do I do with that? Do I contact him? Say "hello"? "I'm here too"? I thought I was... was completely alone in this world. But of all the places he could BE. Smack dap RIGHT in the middle of all the action?! Holy SHIT.

I'm going to have to think about this. A LOT.

Correcting the reports, I step back into the hallways. Casual as you please. Continue on my way, even as my mind churns and churns. Why is he gathering allies? Why hide for so long? Is he counting on his sister's plot armor to carry over? Or does he have actual military training? He's amassing loyalists. For WHAT?

And the reports said he's searching for something. Seem to suggest that WE are keeping it AWAY from him. What are we hiding? Protecting?

People? Resources? A mine?

I reached Master Nobutoshi's study, in his private wing. The halls quite, as only the most elite and trusted servants were allowed to travel here. Kneeling, I knocked on the door frame, waited to be acknowledged.

Receiving an almost absent-minded acknowledgement, I slide open the door.

Framed by delicately painted screen and thickly stuffed book shelves, Iwamoto Nobutoshi was, as always, the very picture of an elite scholar. Beautiful and refined. Slow and deliberate in movements, as though each had been pondered and found acceptable. I had never met a man more graceful. Not in this life, not in the last.

To my right, the sliding door to the gardens were open. Giving a picturesque view of summer, as it faded into fall. To the left, painted screens. Done by some Master's hand. With a splendid level of detail that still caught me off gaurd, even now. There were birds, in those painted trees! Had there always been? I wished I could look closer.

Nonetheless, I respectfully offered the reports for perusal.

"Right on time. This One had begun to worry." He said as he set aside his brush, smile mild as ever, even as his eyes swiftly cataloged each new discrepancy. There were several. "Bruises. Did the new padding in your suit, not sufficiently protect? This One will be most displeased if we have been lied too. We were promised it would."

No, and that was the thing, wasn't it? My kit? Had never been better. But... I had been damn near ambushed on my way TOO my job. Had to take evasive maneuvers. Do a LOT more parkour then I was comfortable with. Those fuckers had been... persistent. Weirdly so. Which made no sense, since they didn't seem affiliated with anyone I recognized.

"Oh?" The question was less a question and more a flat note of outrage. He held a hand out for the reports, began to read. "How... interesting. They certainly seem to be getting bold. This One begins to wonder. If he has perhaps been too kind, that they would see fit to harrass his-"

An ominous silence fills the room as he cuts off mid-sentence, as his eyes find something on the page he's reading. He has gone utterly still. The gentle curl of smoke from his pipe, wafting around him like the warning trails of a dragon. The deadly hidden embers of a forest fire, flaring up. His pleasant smile had frozen upon his face. Like a mask.

"He certainly does love to push his luck, does he? Make demands, for things he has no right too. Things which are ours." The words weren't even so much addressed to me? As the were a hissed accusation, towards the report in his hand. Someone, somewhere, seemed REALLY dead set on pissing Master Nobutoshi off.

Honestly? That seemed really unwise, but it's their funeral... I guess...?

Master Nobutoshi turns so suddenly I only barely avoid flinching. Jumping like a newbie. He's doing that "pick you apart at the seems" stare again. Looking into my soul. I remain politely deferential, patient, as I wait for him to work through his thoughts. He rises from his desk. Elegant and prowling, as he stalks towards me. Gaze intense, fixated. I... I am missing something.

"Tell me, my loyal little shadow. What would you do? If some... upstart, dared begin to covet, that which was yours? Started panting after your dearly beloved trusted, like a filthy dog? Trying to steal them away? Would you take that? Tolerate such disrespect? I... This One... can not imagine you would."

"You are so very loyal. So diligent. You serve me not for fame or glory, power nor wealth. You ask for so little, offer so much. I would give the world to you. My precious, loyal, little shadow. Forever by my side. No doubt, we shall grow old together. That they would covet you? The audacity is unthinkable."

Soft yet warrior calloused hands, come up to cup my cheeks. And... ah. Yeah. T-That's pretty fucking CLEAR on what I'm missing. My boss? Has a thing for me? Crush? Or... or is it "is in love with"? W-what was that about people coveting?! Hold on! Roll things back a second! What's happening?! I never thought I was blind... about apparently I need a stick and some GLASSES.

Because there is "missed some subtext" and then there's "dude, how do you miss the silent war with guerrilla tactics, right fucking IN FRONT OF YOU?!", so like? Either I was being DELIBERATELY kept seperate? Or... actually? No. That actually sound exactly like what probably happened. An information diet.

FUCK.

Before I could decide how, exactly, I felt about that? The same door I had entered through, opened again. This time sharply and with an audible snap. Dragging urgently along it's tracks and hitting its end, in a way the delicate crafting had never been meant for. I swear it nearly cracked. Alarmed, I spun, breaking free of Master Nobutoshi's hold on my face, to face whoever was at the door.

Aiko.

Shouldn't she be near the front gates? "Sweeping" and listening to gossip for the Shadows? How. Why!? My eyes catch on slowly spreading red. Stark against her... our uniform, she's hurt. Badly. Gripping her side and the door frame like it's the only thing still holding her up. Her face ashy pale and sweating with terrible pain. Eyes determined. Her jaw set in that stubborn, stubborn grit.

"Master. You need to leave. Now! They...!" She wavers, starting to blackout from the pain, before forcing it back. "They've attacked! We're holding them back. A-As best as we c..can! Please! Lord Iwamoto, I BEG you! You must go! If you don't survive this, then everything is lost!"

As if to underline the terrible wait of her words, an explosion goes off, shaking the austere foundations of the ancient house in which I serve. My mind immediately flits and races along the emergency protocols. W-was that one of ours? Did we..? No. No, we would have... DID set up barricades. This is our house. We've already trapped it.

They are the ones who brought explosives.

You don't bring things like those, if you plan to leave survivors. You bring those? When you plan to make EXAMPLES. Aiko is right. We have to go. Now. Heart hurting, I nod to my roommate, one of my best friends, and know that this is it. I will likely never see her again, alive. There are... so many goodbyes, words, I wish I had time to say.

In the look she shoots me? I see the same.

We knew this might come.

Just... just hoped it never would.

My boss's crush can wait. His LIFE is more important. I turn and reach for him, to guide him towards the screens, leading deeper into his wing. Get to him easily. But do not get more then two steps before an arm, like steel, is suddenly around my waist and jerking me back.

Jerking US back. Towards the wall of scrolls and decorative pieces, that sat behind Master Nobutoshi's desk. Startled, my gaze shoots down to see Master Nobutoshi's arm, unhesitating and possessive, wrapped around my waist. There is... a lot more muscle under those flowing robes, then I ever suspected. But-?

I do not even have time to think, to ponder, the question before it is violently answered. The masterfully painted screens, that I had long admired, smashing and tearing as bodies crash through them.

Takashi, dead on the floor, sword still in hand. Around him, his teammates dying, as they still tried to by their Lord even a few moments more, to escape. The large, ever polite Shadow, a man who had been like a brother to me... dumped upon the ground like little more then trash. To be tossed aside and discarded. Stepped over, on some other man's campaign.

His blood mixed with the ruins of the Hunting Tiger screen. Two proud, quietly noble wonders, destroyed. It had been his favorite.

Aiko howled with rage and grief. Threw herself into the fight.

We had been family.

I turned, away, hating myself for it. Knowing it's what they would want. Tears threatened but I could not let them come. Not... not yet. Not yet. There was an emergency exit. Where? Where!? I remembered it. I knew, I knew it! But the grief was muddling my mind, making it slow. Damn it. DAMN IT! WHERE WAS IT!!!??

Master Nobutoshi reached past me. Gripping the hilt of decorative sword, he lifted and drew. It.. it was not decorative. Merely disguised. A masterwork blade. It sang ominously as it cut through the air, entering the scene. Then... a face, breathe, pressed to the side of my head. Like.. like a lover? A terrible discordance, in this already awful event.

"Behind the Three Mountains and a Shrine, My Love. I will be with you shortly."

I froze. The world froze, for all it continued, around me. Distantly... I felt Master Nobutoshi loosen his grip, after... after one last possessive squeeze. Let go. Felt him turn away, as he faced the room. But... but that was... he.... he had....

W-was that? I-Informal? A..And WHAT did he call m-!?

My hand, shaking, found the right scroll. Somehow. Without my numb, panicking mind, they moved dispite me. Somehow determined to keep me alive, dispite my shock. I flicked the right switch. Disarmed the traps in the order they needed to be. And... click. There was the trap door. Our... our way out...

I stared. Blankly. W.. what was I supposed to..? Do?

Was I finally... in shock? That's... probably not good. Bad, actually. I should... should move. There are swords here. It's...? Dangerous? Yes. Dangerous. Bad. I need too... too think. Cry, maybe. Somewhere... not loud. With... with no... no swords.

Stumbling. Stiffly. Like my body was not my own anymore, I knelt. Hands clumsy and far away, I struggled with the trap door. Finally got it. People were... were fighting. Hurting. I... I didn't want to be here anymore. Didn't want to be ANYWHERE anymore. I... I wanted it to stop.

Why? Why wouldn't they all just... just STOP.

Aiko. Takashi. My teammates. Who else? Who else was hurt? G-gone? I was... was supposed to be SAFE. This was supposed to be SAFE. I worked so hard. Compromised and compromised, pushed myself down, and made myself fit. I worked and worked and WORKED, until I had nothing LEFT, b... because this was supposed to be SAFE!!!

I... I was supposed to b-be...!

"Iwamoto!" A voice roared above the chaos and fighting. "Where is She?! I know you're keeping her somewhere!"

Like a lions roar, some primal part of my brain demanded I pay attention. Now. Dragging, with brutal claws, my fragile mind, from its drifting cloud of numbness. One leg already on the steps to the escape tunnel, I turned, and... with horror? Realized I was to blame. For... for ALL of this.

Because? There, in armor, stood the Protagonist's brother. Surrounded by his men, with his sister safely at home, what other SHE could he POSSIBLY mean? If not the one? That ALSO remembers? H...He killed Aiko. Takashi. For THIS?

Monster.

Oh god, he.. he was a MONSTER.

Master Nobutoshi and the Reincarnator squared off. Swords drawn, men at their back. Already, so many were dead. So many I had known. Had worked with. My friends. Just... just pawns, between two powerful men. Dizzy, I realized, they... they hadn't even glanced at them. Didn't even seem to SEE them. Just... just more fodder. For their grand campaigns.

"You know?" Nobutoshi all but purred, as he clashed blades with his opponent. "I really must thank you. You helped me realize, the true worth of the gem I possessed. And, once you're dealt with? I will no longer need to hide her in obscurity. With you dead, little rat, I can finally have her, in every way that matters."

"She'll be a beautiful bride." His grin was a savage thing, full of baring teeth.

The Protagonist's brother raged. A lion, a mountain, and a warlord. Fury twisting what were, no doubt, handsome features into something horrifying. Blade work swift and brutal. How many of my friend's blood? Still painted that blade? Still stained his armor? He dressed himself like he thought he was the hero. He was destroying the only home I had known, for these past decades.

"Pervert! You disgusting CREEP! You think you can just imprison women until they love you?! I always knew there was something wrong with you, but this? This take the cake, you FREAK! I'm getting her out of here! Stopping your schemes! Once and for all!" The Brother roared, something unhinged in his eyes. A lifetime of isolation at last, too much, now that relief might finally be at hand. "You'll never understand her! You CAN'T understand her! Not like me! She was MADE FOR ME! We're supposed to be in this TOGETHER! And I WON'T let you keep me from her ANY LONGER, YOU FREAK!"

They couldn't see anyone but each other, as they fought. Brutal. Savage. Singing blades and madness. Around the room, the two sides clashed. Died. Pointlessly, at the command of their Lords. Sitting at the entrance to the escape route, I could see Aiko from here. Takashi. Both dead, gone, where just this morning we had been joking over our plans for an upcoming festival. We... we were going to hit up the candy booths first. Double back to store our loot. Then enjoy the festivities.

It was a good plan. I was going to pretend... that... that I didn't notice Aiko, stealing all the sour plum candies. I hated them. She loved them. But would never take them if I offered. O.. only fun if she could sneak um. Takashi would save me my favorites. Wasn't much of a sweets guy.

Gone...

All gone.

And for what? Because I "belonged" to the Brother? Because Master Nobu-...no. Because Iwamoto Nobutoshi, picked a FIGHT? All I wanted was to be safe. Live quietly. No plot. No drama. No chaos. Just... just market days and laundry, sweeping and helping make dumplings. Weeding the gardens. Napping with kids and cats. Slowness and the shifting of seasons.

A life, unremarkable.

I looked down into the escape tunnel. Dark, long, and to somewhere unknown.

They did not notice me leave.

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.1 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game....Uhhh...I think that is all.

Everything was dark and blurry in his eyes. All he remembers was stalking in the shadows looking for his next prey and suddenly he was kidnapped. He felt mixed emotions, fear but importantly joy, he was finally away from Cazador. It would be like he suddenly disappeared in thin air and Cazador will need him no more. Until he was stuck with another burden, You. “Would you keep quiet, dammit!?” He whispered rather loudly. You stopped shifting around the tall grass and peaked out of it. “I’m sorry” You whispered before going back to hiding. He looked over seeing two people walking by, “Perfect” He mutters and gets ready to put on his performance.  

  After almost getting incinerated, you and Astarion have found a group and camp for the remainder of the period till the little wiggly worm is out of your mind but of course, you wouldn’t comprehend, for you were so young. 

“Who’s the little adorable bugger?” Gale smiles letting you try to read the books he has found so far. “For the record this annoying little sp-human is not mine, they just seem to be attached to me.” Astarion watches you trying to pronounce the big words only to butcher them. “But it’s getting rather late and I hate to deal with a cranky annoying child tomorrow.” He picked you up keeping his arms outstretched and walked to his tent. Once everyone was out of earshot, he squats at your height. “Listen here, you must not tell anyone what we are understood?” His red eyes look down at your innocent (E/C) ones. “But why not?” You sat on top of the pillow looking up at Astarion seeing him take a deep breath in. Of course, Astarion knows he has to make it simple. “Because we are playing a game” He grins “ We are all hiding our identity. You and I are a team and the rest are a team. Whoever is the first one to discover their real identity, is the sore loser.” He gives a smile sitting down next to you. You pouted, your cheeks puffed up “We will win, okay! I won’t tell.” You lean back before yawning “ If they ask what do I say?” You cute little doe eyes look at him tiredly. “Hmm…we are just normal elves got it?” He looks away in deep thought, “it’s for the best for now” He mutters before leaning back “ You know for a being the youngest Spawn he created…you still need rest like a human, you are such an odd little creature” He gently plays with the ends of your hair “ Why did he even turn you?” He whispers as you slowly slip into sleep. “What use does he even have for you?” He kept asking himself all the questions ever since you were part of the “Family” 

You were the youngest spawn Cazador has ever gotten. You were only 5 soon turning 6. Astarion was first shocked to see Cazador holding you in his arms when he came back from bringing a pretty prey for his master. He never dared question, he kept all his unanswered questions to himself. Astarion felt anger towards you both. Why was Cazador more tender with you, not treating you like he does to his other spawns. Why did you get the special treatment? He was mostly angry towards Cazador as always, why did he turn you, you didn’t even reach your half way milestone of your life. You were going to stay that age and size forever.  He has been treated like shit for 200 years but you, you would never experience the things a child should be, the things teenerages and young adults go through. Once again Cazador has robbed you of your life just how Astarion was robbed of his.

Morning rolled by, You picked up a little flower near Gale’s tent, “Astarion! Look what I found!” You ran up to him as he was getting ready to set foot on finding a healer with the others. “What is it this time?” He mutters looking up before seeing a flower being gently shoved to his face. “A flower.” You smile waiting for him to take it. “ A flower…you called my attention for a flower…this is why I don’t work with little annoying monsters.” He sighs already feeling annoyed from the lack of blood. “I’m sorry…” You whisper looking down, putting the flower away from his face, small tears forming in your doe eyes. He stops putting things into his bag and sighs “ Why must you be such a crybaby” He sits down pulling your tiny form on his lap, taking the flower. “Wow, thank you. I feel the luckiest person to get a flower from you.” He says in a bored voice looking at you. You sniff and rub your eyes, “You mean it?” The tears no longer present in your eyes. He looks at you unamused. “Yes, now shoo, I have to pack. Go bother Gale, Shadowheart or even Tav but not me got it?” He makes you get off his lap before freezing feeling you give him a light peck on his cheek “Okay! I’ll collect more flowers for the others!” You giggle before running off.  He placed a hand over his cheek and watched the direction you left. “What an odd little spawn.” He whispers before continuing to pack. 

  You hummed a tune as you collected more flowers near Gale’s camp where Gale was sitting on the pillow, reading a book. He looks up hearing you hum. “Say (Y/n), that tune you must be from the upper city aren’t you?” He smiles placing the book down as your little feet shuffle over to him. “Mmhm! Papa would always sing me this lullaby at night!” You grin “It’s my favorite and he always wants me to sing! He says I’m his little singing bird!” Placing the flowers down, you sat on the ground in front of gale. Thinking back to what Astarion said last night, remembering to not give away too much information. “Judging by your clothes, I bet your father is a rather important man?” He smiles rubbing down those stubborn baby hairs that lift up from your hair. You only nodded “Papa is the best! I miss him and I want to go home…” You look around the wilderness that you and Astarion crashed in. “I want him to hold me close…I always dream of those monsters…and the little wormy” Whimpering you scoot into Gale’s arms. “I don’t want them to come back!” You tear up, “I want papa to hold me but he’s not here!” You wail. Gale quickly panics “Oh…crying child…what to do…wish Tara was here…” He mutters before rubbing your back “Hey now, you can always come to me, Shadowheart and even Tav if you ever have a nightmare. How about this, before you go to bed, I will tell you a story so you can dream of that story rather than the scary monsters. Trust me, I have read so many books, I know them by heart.” He grins as you finally stopped the water works. “Which is why he’s a walking library in this case.” Shadowheart smiles walking over “Now, we should get going, the closer we find a healer, the faster you can go to your papa” She smiles leaning to your height. “Really!” You smiled, your eyes widened at the thought of seeing your father soon. “Let’s go!” Grabbing the flowers, you ran to Astarion to share the news. 

“Astarion!”

“What now!?” 

Walking to find a healer seems like eternity to you, “I wanna rest!” You whined to Astarion tugging at his shirt. “Then complained to Tav, they are leading the damn group, not me.” He sighs, breathing in heavily to compose himself from lashing out. “Up! Up!” You lifted your arms. “The hell I won’t!” He walks faster only for you to follow him whining even more. The rest of the small group look over watching the two of you, seeing you bothering Astarion even more. “Is it me or do these two know each other very much?” Shadowheart watches you keep tugging on his shirt. “Yet he says he doesn’t know (Y/N), that they only tagged along with him.” Gale crossed his arms. Tav smiles “I don’t know, (Y/n) looks nothing like Astarion so I doubt they are related and (Y/N) always mentions a papa.” Shadowheart and Gale nodded. “What in the nine hells! Where did you go!?” Astarion looks around for you as you stop tugging on his shirt a while ago. “Where did they go?” Tav walks back to the pale elf. “ I don’t know, the moment they were annoying the hell out of me! Next thing I know, they are go- wait…” He smells it, blood. You must have run off to the smell. “ I…um…heard them, this way” He quickly follows the scent with the rest following. 

You carefully walked down the ladder, the smell of blood getting stronger. Turning around a corner, you are met with a woman with red skin, burning and importantly with a broken horn. Slowly walking over to the tiefling, you look up at her “Are you okay?” You meekly whisper seeing how tall she was according to your height. She looks up hearing the childish voice, “Hells, what is a child doing all alone?” She looks at you shocked before feeling the tadpoles connect. “Fuck” Karlach whispers holding her head “You were also in that ship…” She whispers before calming herself down and kneels down to make it seem less intimidating to you. “Hey there little soldier,  What are you doing all alone?” She smiles as you slowly take small steps towards her. “I…you’re hurt…are you okay?” You go to place your small hand on her but she backs away quickly. “Careful there, I’m not like any other tiefling, I can burn you.” She smiles “I'm Karlach, what’s your name, little soldier?” She chuckles admiring your little face as you try to say her name slowly. “Car…Ka…la…Karlach.” You finally get it right, before giving her your name, someone else beat you to it. 

“(Y/N)!?” Tav runs over, crossing the log and quickly pulls you back from Karlach, putting you behind. “Get away from them” Tav frowns weapons out. “Are you okay?” Shadowheart checks you over for any injuries as Gale also checked along with her. Astarion catches up and lets out a small sigh seeing you alive and safe. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking running off like that?! A goblin could’ve gotten you or a wild animal?!” He looks down at you but stops himself seeing you tear up. “I-I’m sorry….don’t get mad like papa!” You cried. “Like papa….” He glares down at you. “Don’t ever compare me to him you litt-” He stops himself seeing the fear in your eyes. Him, being like Cazador. He would rather kill himself than be exactly like his old master. He sighs before kneeling to you as the others were busy with Karlach. “Sorry…I was…I guess you can say I was very worried…I know it wasn’t your intention to run off…” He then whispers “You must be hungry…for blood like me…I know you are craving that sweet and yet bitter flavor but you need to hold it in like I am…tonight we’ll find some small vermin okay?” He slowly pats your head as you nod. Standing up, he walks over to the rest as you follow closely to him. “My, I feel so much better knowing we have a strong wall to protect us from any arrows” He smirks after learning Karlach was recruited. “I like her! She’s nice!” You popped out from behind walking over to Karlach. “And I like you little soldier” She smiles. 

After going back to camp for the day, Astarion watches as you listen to Gale’s stories. He sat from his tent looking at a book but his mind wandered back to what you said. Like papa…when has Cazador ever punished you? He thinks back but nothing comes to him. He turns the page to the book to make it look like he was reading. He looks back at you with that question still haunting his thoughts. It really ticked him off when you compared him to Cazador, he will never be like him…no he will be better. He wants to get back at him and back at him good. He smirks looking at you. Why not get him back with the thing he treasures the most, or rather the person he treasures the more. 

You

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

Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for reading this, please like, reblog and share it with others. I will be working on Part 2 soon hopefully. I also started another series a month ago or more about Astarion and a Gur! Reader. There is only part 1 out as well but I will be working out on that. Please remember to stay hydrated and to get some rest. Love you all! You are welcome to ask to be tagged as well for the next part.

-Axie

[stormsthatrage]

Prisoner AU snippet:

Kisuke sinks into the shadows of the corner of Yoruichi’s office, crossing his legs and tilting his head up to stare at the bare wood of the ceiling.

It just doesn’t make sense.

Forget the how — he’s still stumped on the why. For what possible reason could the Ryoka have killed Lieutenant Aizen?

It’s incredibly clear that the Ryoka isn’t playing a long game. No, if anything, the Ryoka was planning on the game having ended far before now. Kisuke sincerely doubts he even meant to be alive this long.

Kisuke closes his eyes, imagines the moment he first saw the Ryoka. It’s an easy scene to call up. Something about it has Kisuke on edge, and not for the obvious reasons. Ever since it happened, he’s found himself going over it again and again, his brain unable to let it go. Something about that moment felt so wrong — still feels so wrong — and he can’t pinpoint why.

The Ryoka had been kneeling next to Aizen’s corpse, arms drenched in blood from the elbow down. The shorter blade of his zanpakuto (and wasn’t that interesting — a dual wielder) had been shoved under Aizen’s chin, up into his brain. The larger sword was on the ground, gore covering its edge. The body had been covered in gashes; before going for the head, the Ryoka had, in no discernible order, stabbed the lieutenant in the lungs, cut his torso open from high between his ribs down to his gut, slit open his femoral artery, severed his spine, and ripped his heart out of his chest — thoughtfully placing the displaced organ next to the corpse’s left ear.

Kisuke, the first one to track down the missing lieutenant, had still gotten there well after the blood had cooled.

The Ryoka, knees in the bloody mud — (and how long, Kisuke wonders, had he been there?) — had turned his head towards Kisuke. “I’m pretty sure he’s actually dead, this time,” he said, conversationally, as if commenting on the flavor of a good tea.

Kisuke had drawn his blade, then. The Ryoka, strangely enough, made no move to retrieve his own. Instead, he had just sat there, staring at Kisuke.

And then his gaze had drifted downward, towards Benihime’s bared edge, and it seemed for all the worlds that in that moment the Ryoka lost every bit of energy that makes a person a person.

Before Kisuke’s eyes, the Ryoka slumped, and his gaze went vacant. Like he had been a marionette, and all of a sudden his strings were cut.

Kisuke had waited for backup before approaching the Ryoka, although even then, he had doubted there would be a struggle.

He had been right. The Ryoka had let them take his zanpakuto from him, let them put him in chains, and had let them lock him in one of the onmitsukido cells. There had been no resistance.

Since then, the Ryoka hasn’t tried to escape, let alone attempted to kill anyone else. He barely moves. Nothing seems to bring life to him. Even if Kisuke were allowed to use physical methods to extract information, he doubts the Ryoka would fight back.

Killing Aizen was the end goal, that much is obvious. But why?

For a brief time, Kisuke had entertained the thought that maybe the Ryoka had been meant as a distraction. But for what? He had quickly discarded the idea. Any heist would have been easier than sneaking into the Seireitei without notice and murdering a Shinigami Lieutenant. And if a second, higher-ranking assassination had been the goal, it would have been best done before killing Aizen; predictably, people were now uneasy, and guard rotations had increased dramatically.

Kisuke uncrosses his legs, stretching out one in front of him. “So why did you do it, then,” he murmurs.

Revenge against the Court Guard? No, he would have tried to kill more than just Aizen had that been the case. With his power and ability to go unnoticed, he probably would have succeeded, too.

Revenge against Aizen? An absurd thought, one certainly not worth wasting his time on.

Kisuke drums his fingers against his knee, trying to think. Why? Why would someone murder Lieutenant Aizen so viciously? What could possibly be —

He freezes.

“Kisuke?” Yoruichi says, catching the flare of alarm in his spiritual signature.

He ignores her, desperate not to let the thought fade.

Vicious.

Vicious.

A vicious murder.

The way the Ryoka had done it had been so vicious, hatred obvious in every wound inflicted. And the Ryoka, he had had no interest in continuing his warpath, after. He had given up, as soon as it was done. It was revenge. Of course it was revenge. All the signs are there, why had he not thought of that before. Why did he —

But he had, hadn’t he? Just a few seconds ago, he had —

He had dismissed it, but he doesn’t do that, he’s trained, he knows better than to discard a theory based on personal assumptions —

Why did he have that personal assumption?

Because it was Lieutenant Aizen. He would never have done something —

But —

Captain Hirako. Didn’t Captain Hirako chose Aizen as a lieutenant because —

And then. And then that time someone broke into his lab, and he —

He can’t remember.

He can’t remember.

“Oh, fuck,” Kisuke breathes.

There are gaps in his memory, and now that he’s focusing on it, he can feel where a foreign power, a… a zanpakuto’s power, fading, now — he can notice it because it’s fading, it’s power is lessened — is trying to affect his thought patterns.

Trying to keep him from thinking about how… about how dangerous Aizen was. Trying to keep him from remembering when… when…

Aizen had broken into his lab. Stolen research on… no, theories, it was theories about the —

The —

Hogyoku.

“Oh, Soul King,” Kisuke breathes, horror washing through him, ice-cold.

He has the worst feeling that the Ryoka, sitting in an underground cell several floors below Kisuke’s feet, may have just saved them all.

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin realising his feelings for his gn crush?

Warnings: mentions of Astarion's trauma. I added a scene that doesn't technically exist in-game to flesh things out a bit with Halsin.

Notes:  Please, Tumblr... More Halsin and Gale gifs pls My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Astarion

As we all know, it takes a long time for Astarion to be able to fall in love properly. His two centuries of having to seduce prey for Cazador have made it very hard to tell where the sultry facade ends, and the true him begins. He was meant to have seduced you for protection, to get you to fall for him and defend him should he ever need it. That was the plan, in any case. To him, it was fool-proof - he had never fallen in love with an object of his 'affection' before, so this should have been easy.

He was very wrong - though your do-good nature really irked him at first, it eventually made him want to be the same. Or, at least, similar. Part of him wished that he could have had someone like you earlier, to save him from the horrors he had seen under Cazador. Your patience with him, and your unwavering kindness got through to him, and he craved more - even if he thought he didn't deserve it.

He realised he loved you - truly, deeply loved you - when you and some of your group had infiltrated Moonrise Towers. You'd encountered a drow who was hell-bent on exploring the Sanguine arts, and had even started to press Astarion to bite her, despite his protests. You had stood up for him, told her to back off, and it was that moment that he had realised that his feelings for you were more than an infatuation, more than seeing you as something to use for protection, that it was love.

Gale

Gale had been fond of you since day 1 - though, being pulled out of a collapsing portal may do that to someone's view of another. Your views often aligned - though sometimes the means to achieve them did not - and that endeared you all the more to him. Even when he told you of the orb lodged deep within his chest, demanding he consume strands of weave, you stuck by him; and he hadn't entirely thought you would.

Being able to travel by your side and see all the good deeds you do is an honour for him - he'll often sit and think about how his life would have been had he not been snatched up by the mindflayers. He'd probably be in his tower in Waterdeep, with no one but Tara for company, and little to do besides wallow in his own self-pity. This was a much better alternative - even with the looming possibility of ceremorphosis.

His feelings first started when you said that you could stay with the group after he revealed the nature of the orb in his chest. It was only natural, after being shown such kindness. But the moment he really knew he loved you, was after Elminster had delivered Mystra's missive to Gale - about destroying the heart of the Absolute by detonating the orb in his chest. When you had gotten so uptight with the older wizard, telling him it wouldn't happen, that Gale wasn't going to die, he couldn't help but find you sweet. Though he had initially resigned himself to Mystra's demands, he couldn't deny it felt nice to have someone on his side.

Halsin

To begin with, Halsin admired you, but was not emotionally available enough to pursue any kind of romantic relationship with you - his mind was focused more on ridding Moonrise of the Shadow Curse. It was only really once that part of your journey had concluded that he could even start to think about that kind of thing.

You had proven yourself to be a person of your word, and that was something that Halsin always held a great amount of respect for. To find someone who followed through with the promises they made, let alone to be able to travel with them, was an absolute blessing - one that Halsin thanked the gods for every day. It was with your help the curse was dispelled, and the lands freed; that was no easy feat, and he couldn't have done it without you.

During the rather small celebration the party and a few others had post-curse, Halsin sat and thought to himself about all that you had done for him - all that you, hadn't quite sacrificed per se, but had given to help him. You'd taken many beatings to help him on his own quest, when it probably would have been more beneficial for you to pursue your own - which was arguably just as pressing, if not more so. Your courage endeared you to him, and it was as he sat there, amidst the celebratory drinking and serenading, that he realised he would devote himself to you as much as you had done to him; following you to Baldur's Gate, and facing whatever it was that was at the end of your journey.

[bubblybloob]

I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

[astaroth1357]

Flipping the Script: Leviathan Progression (Human World AU)

Previously: After a baggage mishap at the airport, you and your cosplay group found the perfect replacement for your Lord of Shadows! Rejoice, as now a demon has your number! (Not that you know that)

Contents: Second person (you), fluff, MC is an otaku, MC is down bad, mutual pining between idiots

Part One, Part Two (You are here), Part Three (Coming Soon)...

~♡♡♡~

Levi met up with you and your team for the photoshoot that day, and it couldn’t have gone better!

As promised, you spent your first visit to the vendors room with him as part of his compensation for helping you out. What you hadn’t expected was for him to be quite so funny during your time together.

He had an infectious energy about him… Especially when talking about the shows and hobbies that he liked to indulge in. Coincidently, they happened to line up with a lot of your interests as well, so there was a nearly endless conversations between you two.

By the time the rest of your team tracked you down to do a scheduled fan signing, you and Levi had already gotten lunch at a themed café and exchanged online handles to play games together back at the hotel. Then they had to sit and suffer through you rambling about just how sweet and hilarious he was...

Even after the convention, the two of you kept up a very steady contact. Weekly game nights were an absolute must and he occasionally would join chats with you if you decided to stream. Leviachan, as you'd happily begun to call him, became a fast regular in your DMs and on your chat history.

You were surprised that for all of Levi's skill, he didn’t have the same kind of social media presence that you had to share his cosplay. You offered multiple times to bring him in for collabs together, but…

Well, Levi was always super cagey with you about just WHERE he lives or even where he was born in! When you first asked, he said it was, “J-just a small place somewhere out there! Nowhere important.”

To some extent, you understood his desire for privacy, so you've never really pried, but it still felt so odd that he wouldn’t even give you a country… Not even a time zone! Whenever you wanted to call him, he’d always just “up.” Did he ever sleep??

What information you could gain from him was mainly family-related. He had six brothers, no Mom, and an estranged Dad. The one you saw on the day you met him, Malcolm, was the second oldest and their relationship seemed… complicated.

It wasn’t until you both decided to do a video call to play a game he sent you that you got to first meet the others...

You had your computer booting up the copy of Demonlands 2 that Levi sent for you to play while the window for your video call rang for him to pick up. It was another typical Friday game night for you, though you decided not to stream in favor of having a chill night of fun with Levi. He had been talking up this as one of his comfort games for a long while, though you had never heard of it yourself, so when he offered to give you copy you sprang for it! Over the months you’d gotten to know the shy otaku, you’d learned to put paramount trust in his recommendations. He really knew his stuff, anime AND game-wise, so listening to him was like having your own personal guru.

You slid your headphones on and got comfortable in your chair right as Levi’s end picked up and the corner of your monitor displayed the smiling face of the man who'd quickly grown to become your best friend. The ambient blue light of his room tinged the violet in his hair a shade of indigo, but left the sunset shade of his eyes more or less intact. You'd already expressed some jealousy to Levi over his sweet setup... what parts of it he's been willing to show you anyway. He'd given you the digital tour of his figurines, manga, and games collections, as well as showing you little Henry. You had no idea someone would commit to an aquatic aesthetic so hard that they’d actually sleep in a bathtub, but at the same time it felt so very… Levi. Nothing in his bedroom was like anything you'd ever seen before, like, who actually sleeps next to an aquarium tank?? Maybe his family were the eccentric type…

“Hey, Y/n! Sorry that I'm picking up late.”

“No, it’s fine! I was grabbing a snack earlier. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing important.”

You watched Levi start checking over his monitor through the screen while mindlessly twisting the black wire of your headphones between your fingertips. When you first started to play games together, these little silences between you would feel awkward and Levi would scramble to get find anything he could to fill them. To alleviate the tension, you’d play a shared playlist of your favorite otacore or ani-songs to make him more comfortable, but for the last month or so he hadn’t needed it as much. The silences were now… pleasant. You could take your time with each other like real friends could and it felt pretty nice.

Most of your offline friends knew how embarrassingly down bad you'd become for this guy. You hoped your cosplay audience hadn't picked up on it yet, but there would always be those comments that point out how you gush about him whenever he offered you a new accessory for your outfits… If you guys had a ship name, you didn’t know it'd be yet.

…

Not that you had any ideas about it or anything. You? Ship yourself with your best friend?? Absolutely not! Like, who would actually do that-?

“Y/n?”

“Huh??”

Levi's voice interjected itself into your thoughts, making you fumble with the headphone wire as you recovered.

“Hey, are you alright? You were just staring off there…”

Now back in reality, you stuttered out an embarrassed apology to your confused friend and try to smile it off.

“Oh yeah, Levi, I'm alright. It's just a long week, so I'm ready for some gaming!”

You prayed that the bubbly feeling in your chest wasn't also showing on your face when you watched his expression light up. That determined smile was more than half of the reason you agreed to these game nights of yours when he first brought up the idea. He took to giving you a good time as passionately as a great DM runs their campaign and you appreciated the hell out of him for it... Having a life on social media and being in the public eye could absolutely drain a person, but with Levi you could just relax and recharge with the stuff you loved…

“Okay, Y/n, do you have everything running?”

“Yep! Got it all installed last night.”

“Great! Go ahead and open the co-op menu and-"

His voice got cut off in your headphones by the sound of a sharp knock coming from behind him. Levi's eyes briefly grew to the size of saucers as they darted over his shoulder then back at your image onscreen.

“Levi...? What's wrong?”

“Nothing! Uh… J-just a second!”

You watched him lurch over his desk and fumble with his mouse until eventually the camera feed cut to black. You were definitely getting concerned, since Levi had almost never reacted that way to an outside noise before, but soon your worry morphed into curiosity. A sing-song voice called out through your headphones, one you had never heard before, and after checking the chat window you realized that, yep…

Levi forgot to mute the call.

“Oh Levi~! What made you think we're done talking? Is that your little friend in there??”

The man's voice was at a higher pitch than Levi's and he sounded pretty… annoyed. Or at least insistent about something. You heard the sound of door hinges swinging open, followed by Levi's much more exasperated tone.

“Go away, Asmo-gak! Why are all of you here!?”

A new voice joined the fray, this one was much softer than the other two. They spoke at a languid pace, slow like honey pouring from a bottle. Did he just wake up or something...?

“We thought you've been talking to a computer this whole time, but Mammon says that they're a real person…”

“Yeah, I’ve seen'em too! Tell'em Levi!”

That one you knew had to be Malcolm! There was no mistaking the energetic punch to his words, but who the heck was Mammon?? You didn’t recall meeting him too…

“Ugh, yes! They're real, but no you can’t all see them! We just started a new game, so go away!!”

“Uhm, Levi?”

Your question must have come through the speakers because, for moment, the sudden silence on the other end was deafening… then all hell broke loose at once.

Another voice spoke up now, one that sounded a lot deeper and almost velvety coming through your headphones.

“Was that them just now?”

Another responds, also deep, but muffled? As if they're trying to speak past a mouthful of marshmallows…

“Mmnph-‘ink so-mmmgh…”

The higher voice chimed in well over them both.

“Oh, we should go say hi!! What do you think, Levi? You can't keep teasing us like this!”

The blank screen on your monitor was starting to kill you seemingly as much as it was them… You desperately wanted some kind of explanation, but more importantly…!

“Levi, who's over there? Are those your brothers?!”

Your ears perked from the a collective gasp you heard on the other end, then the excitable one spoke again.

“They know about us???”

“NO!! N-not everything! Please leave-!!”

You'd be lying if you said that Levi's shout hadn't hurt you right then… It felt like a little crack went tink right on your heart! Had he been keeping you a secret from them this whole time? Was he embarrassed? Or did he not trust you to know too much about himself…? Was it your platform that he was scared of??? You had never broadcasted anything he hadn’t given permission about ahead if time… You wouldn't dare to dox him!! Though you could understand if that was his reasoning, the secrecy still kind of hurt…

“W-wait, Levi, I’ve always wanted to see more of your family...! Why not let them in? Please? We can still play right afterwards!”

“Huh?? But Y/n-!!”

“You heard'em, Levi! Let us through!”

A mass of shuffling filled your headphones while you waited with baited breath. You had even leaned in so close to your monitor that when the window flashed back on, you were briefly blinded by all of the colors at once! It took a few moments for you to make out all five pairs of eyes staring back through the screen. Each boy seemed to be crammed up against Levi's computer desk like lab students all forced to share the same microscope... To your surprise, not a single one of them looked like Levi or even like each other! You probably should have guessed, considering Malcom (who was seated center stage, having stole Levi's gamer chair for himself) looked nothing like him before, but you wouldn’t have guessed all 5 would differ quite as drastically… Would the sixth look that different as well?

“Uhm… hi?”

You tried to smile again to make a good impression, but it was hard to do while feeling like a living petri-dish. You were used to having eyes on you, but this was another level. Perhaps it was the added pressure of not wanting to look bad in front of a good friend's family, but it also could have also been the sheer intensity of their gaze… Levi could get this way too sometimes and it always felt like his orange-hued irises could almost see right through you... Especially if he just lost a game. In those times, his intimidating edge gave you a bit of a thrill. It'd feel like you just bested a dangerous beast in combat, but against ten eyes it was overwhelming… Each one bore right through you as if to examine your very soul…

“Huh,” a blonde one peering over Malcom's right shoulder was the first to speak up. His eyebrows were raised practically off of his forehead in surprise. “So they are real, then.”

The shortest boy, squished up against Malcom as if trying to steal center frame, clasped his hands over his heart and cooed back towards the doorway.

“Aww, Levi, look at that! You actually have a friend now!! And a real cutie, too~ Hello, hun!”

“Yeah, but why do they look like a human…?”

You watched guys instantly stiffen up as all eyes shifted towards a dark-haired boy clutching a spotted pillow just barely in view. It was hard for you to see his face, since it was only half on screen and even then some of it was behind his pillow, yet you could detect something… cold in it. He sounded annoyed, but you couldn’t place why… Was he seriously expecting you to be an AI or something?

To your surprise, the pillow guy was swiftly yanked out of frame and replaced by Levi, though you couldn’t see much of his face either. Only that he was holding onto the pillow guy's sleeved arm rather tightly as he spoke.

“Of course they're human! Not a 2D person or just a computer, but human like the rest of us… Right?”

You'd never heard such a dark edge come over Levi’s tone before. Not even in jest! It must have been rare for his brothers to hear as well, because most stared at him with equally shocked expressions. The arm in Levi's grasp yanked itself away and you heard footsteps head towards the door… but the other brothers stayed where they were. Another long silence flooded in, somethibg that felt far more uncomfortable than any you had experienced with Levi before, until a (frankly) massive dude chewing on a huge slab of jerky spoke up behind Malcolm.

“If they're nice to Levi, that's enough for me.” He inhaled the rest of the jerky into his mouth (which you didn’t quite detect him chewing) before he was already smiling at you with the kind of warmth that you'd see saved up only for the sappiest of shojo scenes. “Hello, thank you for being Levi's friend.”

The rest of the boys all exchanged glances with each other, then a similar kindness took over their faces too. Gone were the piercing stares of just a moment ago, and instead you only felt a welcoming energy radiating out from your monitor. As if sensing the change too, Levi finally came into view of the camera. He leaned down by Malcolm in the spot the pillow guy left open, grinning at you in that way only he really could.

“Y/n... These are my brothers.”

[usuallydyinginside]

Dragon Age Veilgard Spoilers 👇

TLDR: I never want to hear anyone criticize Neve about “the choice” in Act 1 ever again.

I’m on my second play through for DAV, and one of the things I was most curious about was how the Act 1 choice changes the game. I’ve seen endless hate for Neve and the way she acts if you don’t save her city, and was curious if Lucanis is like weirdly graceful and forgiving about it by comparison.

lol, NOPE.

Here’s the thing, friends. Yes, Neve’s upset when you don’t go to her city, but Lucanis is so much worse about it AND HAS SO MUCH LESS JUSTIFICATION?!?

If you save Treviso:

You’re told upfront that the Venatori will take over if you don’t save Neve’s home. What you aren’t told is that their first order of business before you can even show up post-dragon is to immediately find and wipe out the Shadow Dragons. When you next visit the city, you’ll find a bit of damage from the dragon but there are literally corpses and gallows littering every street—many wearing Shadow Dragon uniforms. Every NPC that you meet at the Shadow Dragon headquarters is either dead or only shows up very occasionally for quests. The entire SD base is deserted, and they basically tell you that everyone but like four people have been killed. Keeping in mind, of course, that this is an org made up primarily of regular and poor people who are fighting against a corrupt regime to end slavery. That was their crime.

Oh, and to top it all off, Neve tells you that her own m little apartment was destroyed too. She has a whole conversation about how the Lighthouse is her only home and your team is most of her remaining family.

Even with all of this, even with how angry and grieving and hurt Neve is, she still forgives you. You can still fully romance her or raise her friendship high. You just have to work for it.

MEANWHILE…

If you save Minrathos:

To me, it sounded like it would be way worse. They put up a big show of how it’ll be mostly civilians who are harmed and how the water will be poisoned. Hence, the first time I did it, I went the other route and saved Treviso.

Except it’s comparatively not nearly as bad?!? The Crow headquarters is, by my count so far, missing only 3 people (Fletcher, Heir, and guy I am suddenly blanking on name who gives a couple quests). All the important Crows are not only still alive—they’re still exactly where you expect. They talk about how empty it is, but it’s really not very and outside in the courtyard it’s downright crowded with crows. Illario is alive and well (haven’t gotten to other surprise family member but I will be shocked if they aren’t also just fine). Teia and Viago are fine. Even Jacobus is so far just fine.

Lucanis still has a giant ass mansion, a fortune, his family, and the majority of the Crows. The Blight is presumably fixable by the end of the game (unlike the Venatori taking over), and the city shows a lot of signs it’ll recover just fine. The only corpses are from the dragon attack which would have really been there anyway despite what the game shows cause either way a big ass dragon attacked.

However, Lucanis becomes immediately dropped as a romance option if you don’t save his city. He reacts objectively more severely after losing far less.

To be clear, I don’t even mind him reacting that wqy! It makes sense if either of them do. What I mind is how many fans are channeling their internalized sexism into dissing my girl Neve.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Bullseye

Robin wasn't against marriage. The president was rather insistent that he get married and carry on the bloodline. Producing stronger archers for the next generation.

Most called him a prodigy, but truthfully, he wouldn't have gotten far without his nee-chan. She was the one who trained him. He wouldn't be half as good if not for her.

He didn't really understand the sad look in Bachiko's eyes when his engagement was finally announced. "I'm sorry Robbie..." Why was she so sad?

Just because he was getting married, it didn't mean he had to stop doing the things he loved. Besides, the president was the one who picked his bride. He was sure that everything would work out!

He dashed to the training grounds excitedly. He was supposed to meet her today! He wondered what she'd be like? Would it take time to win her over? Would she be sweet?

Whose to say? One moment, he's zipping by the next he crash lands into a pit. He lands on his back, staring up at the sky, confused. Did one of his cousins dig a hole?

A shadow peers over him. It's not anyone he recognizes. Her long hair flowing past her shoulder as she leans over, getting a better look at him. His jaw drops, and he can only stare back.

His heartbeat is pounding rapidly in his chest. He wonders if she can hear it echoing? She continues looking at him and then... he hears it. She laughs.

It's the most gorgeous sound he's ever heard. She sits on the edge of the hole, kicking her feet amused. An amused look crossing her pretty features. This had to be her.

This had to be the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with. He literally springs into action, jumping into her lap and knocking her over. He grins brightly. "Hi! I'm Robin, your future husband!"

She stares up at him amused. She's taller than him, her long hair fanning out behind her. She pokes him in the nose with a manicured nail. "My... you're confident."

He chuckles and leans closer, so their nose to nose. "I aim to please!" He suddenly feels himself being tossed up into the air. His eyes widen. She rolls away.

He swings upside-down, getting his barings. A snare. First a pit, now a snare? Did she? She stands in front of him. He's at perfect eye level with her. She hums and walks around him.

He watches her use her magic. Trap magic is different than any kind of magic he's seen. An array of ropes flaring out and stringing around him like a web.

He laughs and activates his own magic. The angle is awkward, but his aim is true. An outline of arrows surrounds her silhouette. She looks at him in awe.

And he can see the hearts in her eyes. His arrow never misses. A bullseye straight through the heart! He knew it would all work out!

He was so glad that the president assigned him such a cool wife! He couldn't wait to tell all his peers! His wife was the prettiest, smartest demon ever. He manages to cut the snare and rush over to her.

She simply smiles at him. And just when he's about to reach her... he crashes it the tree behind her. His head spins as he looks up at her. Her gorgeous leather wings fanned out behind her.

Was this... a game? He loved games! His chaotic grin spreads across his face. She gives a sharp flick of her wings and takes off. His unleashes behind her and soars into the air after her.

She's fast, and she seems to know every trick in the book. It makes him want to catch her even more. Just a little more. Almost there. He reaches his hand out and grasps her ankle.

He let's out a shout of victory too soon. Her tail wraps around his waist and flicks him away. He hadn't realized how close they were to the clans stronghold. That is until he came crashing through the window.

The president stares at him for a moment. Holding his pipe out. "Are you enjoying yourself, my boy?" He asked. Robin sprang up quickly. "She's amazing! I'm gonna try again!"

Just before he can jump through the broken window, she lands in the frame, her tail waving behind her. She tilts her head at him. "What a silly imp you are..."

She crosses her legs and leans against the wall. "Really!" Does that mean she likes him? He can't stop the stars in his eyes. She giggles. "You're quite stupid, aren't you? Mmm... I like that in a demon."

"You do!" He cheers. "Please take good care of me... Robbie-Chan." He feels ready to explode and do a thousand victory laps. He can do that. He'll gladly take care of his new spouse!

[smootqueen]

Love and Deepspace Unofficial Lore. Love and Deepspace is a mobile game that is NOT owned by me. This is content made for entertainment purposes only and not meant to oppose any means of sponsorship or monetary gain. If you enjoy this content, support Love and Deepspace by following them on social media platforms and downloading their game.

Warning: NSFW Content (TW: soft dom & cuffs)

Zayne vs Sylus x Female M/C Content 🩵🩶

—————————————————

Before you begin, some notes from the author:

I want this story to be personally connected to you as the reader, which is why I did not name the main female lead. Throughout the story you will see her referred as “M/C” abbreviated for Main Character. Feel free to use your name/nickname as you’re reading it.

Thank you, reader!

—————————————————

~ Between Shadows and Ice: Sylus and Zayne’s Battle for Her ~

Preface: M/C has been through a lot in the past year. Although she has faced many challenges, she continues to push past them by focusing on her career and well being. This all comes to a halt when she realizes she has feelings for her primary care doctor: Dr. Zayne, who lately has been very curious and protective about M/C’s other partners, including a recent hookup in a mission with Sylus, the leader of Onychinus in the N-109 Zone. Although M/C and Sylus have not seen one another since, that does not impede Sylus from being curious about his kitten’s day-to-day lfe. And now the arrogant leader of Onychinus is adamant to find her and not let her go again. How will Zayne react when he realizes his girl is about to be taken away? How could he ever let that happen?

Chapter 1: Pilot

I was sitting at the Hunters’ HQ when Tara came up to my desk. She was wearing her work out clothes and a damp towel hung around her neck.

“What’chu doin’?” She gleamed over my desk, which was covered in papers and binders of different shapes and sizes, all color coded to my investigation.

These past two weeks have been brutal, since trying to earn a promotion and reduce the percentage of Wanderers attacking Linkon. In the past year alone there has been a 2% increase in Metaflux fluctuations, causing Wanderers to wreck havoc. Part of my investigation has been to be able to reduce it at least 1% before the year ends, but that would mean—

“Hello! M/C? Are you even listening to me?” Tara interrupts my thoughts.

Since she got here, this is the first time I notice her. I glance up at her, a bit confused as to how long she has been standing there. I feel very tired all of the sudden.

“Are you okay?” She mutters, “You seem like you’ve gotten no rest.” I notice she has her workout clothes composed by a purple exercise jacket and some blue leggings.

I frown.

“You only work out at night before heading home.” I think outloud.

“It is night…” she looks even more concerned now, which causes me to panic.

“Right, right!” I say with a fake chuckle, rubbing the back of my head. “It’s time to—“

“Go home?" She suggests, getting closer to my desk and lowering herself to my level. Sitting on my white desk chair, I can see the water from the towel staining her jacket as she looks straight into my eyes.

“M/C, you don’t look well at all... I told you I was gonna work out this morning. You had less than half of these papers…” She glances at my desk and notices the pile. She recalls I was printing 10 copies in the morning and my desk was neatly organized. It was so organized, in fact, that she was able to grab my strawberry pen she loves so much. She had reminded me how jealous she was as part of her visiting my desk routine. And I, as I have done each time, insisted she takes it. Tara always refuses and says it’s a “special touch” to borrow it from me. She considers it to be her lucky pen that lives on my desk.

That pen is nowhere in sight. Maybe it's not so lucky after all? It is probably dead buried underneath all those papers.

I sigh, placing my fingers over the ridge of my nose and closing my eyes.

This causes Tara to giggle, “You’re making expressions like Zayne lately.” She says as she stands straight.

Shit. Zayne.

My eyes shoot open and quickly rummage through the papers to try to find my phone. Some of them fall onto the floor, which Tara quickly scrambles to pick up in a panicked woah!.

When I find my phone, the strawberry pen emerges. This causes Tara to immediately launch herself to grab it.

“I found it!” She squeals but I ignore her.

I have 10 unread messages from Zayne, and a missed video call.

05:30 - Hope your day goes well today. Be sure to drink plenty of water.

07:00 - Did you have breakfast yet? I recall you said your shift started earlier today.

7:30 - I will be having lunch at around 2 PM today. Can we video call then or will you be at work?

10:00 - I just got off surgery. There’s been a lot of injured people lately. Your calculations of Wonderers appearing more frequently was not off…

11:00 - I have a small break. I will be taking a nap. If you need anything you can call me. I don’t mind waking up to chat a bit.

11:45 - I got woken up with an emergency. Still, call me if you need anything.

13:00 - I managed to get things under control here. I will be eating earlier.

13:05 - Have you eaten?

Missed video call from Ice Prince ☃️

15:00 I hope everything is okay. I imagine you’re on a mission somewhere.

17:00 I’m going home now. The movie tickets I bought last week were for 7:30. Do I pick you up?

I glanced at the clock: 21:07.

Fuck.

“Tara, I really have to go.” I stand up quickly, more papers fall onto the ground. I reach down to pick them up and put them at the desk messily and neglecting the organized pattern I had on my desk before. As more papers fall, I pick them up and dodge Tara's head, who is also scramming to pick up the papers with me.

“You’re gonna leave it like this?” She looks up from holding some of the papers against her chest, “Just don’t let Captain Jena see—“

“I gotta go.” I snap, causing her to give me a soft look.

I raise my eyebrows in apology, realizing I have not even spent time with my best friend. “I’m sorry, Tara. I really just lost track of today and I had some things to do.”

“With Zayne?” She winks, a smirk growing on her lips as she places my papers down.

I blush slightly at her acknowledgement.

Zayne and I have been in a “situationship” for a while. Neither of us has really fezzed up about pursuing more, especially since we’re busy with work. I have not really told him that I developed some feelings for him, nor do I plan to. I have genuinely enjoyed the time we have spent and our nights together. Why would I ruin that with my selfish feelings? Just because I get some extra serotonin and dopamine when I am around him.

I feel my face hot as I remember the most recent one: it was in the parking garage at the Akso Hospital. We were inside his car when he called me after a hard surgery. One thing led to another… and…

I shake my head to clear off the memory.

Whelp. He’s gonna wanna have to do nothing with me after today.

“We were supposed to go to the movies today.” I explain to Tara.

“Shit.” Tara’s eyes widen, “You didn’t go.”

“I didn’t even bother letting him know.” I groan, “I was too focused with work and ignored his texts."

“Well, what are you waiting for?? Hurry! Call him back!!”

“No,” I sigh, “No. I think I’m gonna go to his place and apologize.”

I rub my face, realizing too late that I had mascara on and probably just smeared it. The moment I feel the texture I stop and click my tongue.

“Dammit… Today’s not my day.” I mutter.

Tara hands me the towel around her neck. I make a mortified face and she laughs.

“I will break out if I use that thing..."

“You will get gray hairs when you see what you’ve done to your eyes.” She winks, “Let’s get you out of here. I can you drop you off at Zayne’s…”

Now I’m the one giving her the puppy eyes, appreciating her for not judging me and giving me a hand.

Tara and I have become inseparable since we started our job as Hunters. Her desk is unfortunately nowhere near mine, but we make the effort to see each other throughout the day and send each other funny videos at lunch time or in-between missiong. We’ve gone on a couple of dates shopping and trying out new restaurants, and she tells me every morning what her Tarot cards said about how her day would be.

After Caleb and Grandma’s death, she stepped in to become the sister I never had. Of course, no one is ever going to replace them, but she has truly become someone special to me and has helped me countless times. Right after their passing she made me some carrot cake and brought it to my house. When I opened the door, I had not showered for days and was wearing some pjs. The first thing I noticed was the cake. I don’t even like carrot cake, but I ate it and cried with her that day. She offered spending the night and helped me with some chores so I could shower. That was when she became even more important to me. So even if it meant I had to hear her rambling about my strawberry pen and how much she wants one but won’t take mine, or how much I dislike carrot cake but she makes it, I will always choose her.

I smile.

“Sounds good.” I nod, pushing away her towel with an apologetic nod, “I’ll owe you.”

“An outing~” She sings as we walk outside of the office settings.

“T-“

“Ah, tsch, tsch!” She pouts, waving her finger in a ‘no’ motion. “I don’t wanna hear it! You have time for these boys but don’t ever go out with me anymore. I deserve a date with my bestie! Pleaasseeee” She makes an exaggerated look and heightens her voice as she begs.

I laugh, “Alright, alright. We can go-“

“Tomorrow!”

I stop walking “Tara-“ I see her disapproving glance. I sigh in response. “Tomorrow’s my day off, so we can go.” I say defeatedly.

I had intended to come in to work on those papers, but now that I promised her this…

“WOOHOOO!” She shouts through the empty offices, hopping as we walk together, “We’re gonna have so much fun!!!”.

*********************************************************************

I unlock the door to Zayne’s apartment using the keys he gave me and notice the living room is dark. Months ago, Zayne had given me the passcode to enter the building and the keys to enter his apartment when we rescued some puppies {coming soon chapter}. He never really asked for his copy back. I did try to give it back to him once by leaving it in his desk at the hospital while he was busy, but it managed to find its way back to me with some jasmine flowers and a note that said I was welcome to come in and out as I please. We don’t really spend that much time here, though I am familiar enough with the place that I know my way through it even though the lights are off.

I traverse his living room carefully, noticing that his bedroom light is on but the door is closed. The golden light underneath the door shines through the living room and illuminates my combat boots that I wear for work.

I take a deep breath before opening the door.

His bedroom is organized, as is the rest of his apartment. The bed is made except for the edge, which has the outline of where he probably sat moments ago. Next to his nightstand are his glasses, on top of a book, which indicates he was readying himself for bed. He always reads before sleeping to quiet his mind. It was probably some medical book like the ones he re-reads all the time.

The sound of the shower being on catches my attention. The door to the bathroom is open and steam comes from it, indicating that Zayne is indeed showering in there. From his bedroom, Linkon City is visible through his massive windows, that are essentially his wall connecting to the bathroom. He has curtains that are electric, they will wind down and black out the room for when he needs some serious sleep, but for the most part every time I have come they are wide open. If I had such a luxurious view, I would also keep them open as much as possible.

Guilt gnaws at the back of my stomach and the nape of my throat. I sit on the edge of the bed and think about what I am going to say when he comes out.

How do I even apologize for something like that?

Although we’re both busy, he as the Hospital Chief of Akso Hospital, and me working on my promotion, we always make time for one another. He isn't really a man of words, but I will receive pictures from him of things that remind him of me, or videos that he thinks I will enjoy. There have been many times where i have received gifts to my apartment as well: flowers, plushies, and some notes he will leave while passing by. Though these gestures don't have to mean much, they are meaningful to me because that is the way Zayne shows his appreciation. He may not say it, but he shows it through his actions.

The water stops running with a soft thud. My heart begins to beat heavily against my chest and I begin to feel lightheaded as time passes. What seems like minutes feels like hours until Zayne emerges from the restroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His black hair is still wet and flat against his head. When he sees me, he has a serious expression.

I fucked up.

“Zayne.” I say, my voice cracking as I try not to cry. “H-How was your day?” I manage to say, trying to create a casual conversation but being too nervous to get the words out smoothly. I am sitting upright with my hands on my knees, as though I am about to be scolded.

He doesn’t answer me. Instead he just stares and blinks.

Oh no, he is really mad.

“Zayne…” I try again.

“Were you on a mission?” He questions, his tone serious as he folds his arms against his chest. His toned muscles on his forearms and biceps are revealed, causing me to blush for a moment. He is no longer holding the towel, but he does not care if it falls off. His eyes are fixed on me, demanding an answer.

Confused by his question, I frown and shake my head without breaking eye contact.

He walks closer to me after unfolding his arms, causing me to panic.

Is he gonna yell at me? Will he end things with me?

He places his index finger on my chin, lifting my head and forcing me to look up at him. He is so tall, and with me sitting down I feel like a prey trapped under a predator's jaws. His finger feels cold when he uses his finger. The back of my neck feels hot as I recall that being one of his signature moves when I am obedient and call him “Sir”.

I gasp a little from the sudden cold touch, closing my eyes as I feel it becoming slightly colder from using his Evol.

“Were you, perhaps, in the N109 Zone today?” His green eyes are drilling into me. Even though I am not looking at him I can feel the intensity of his glare.

I open my eyes and blink in surprise: “What?”

He frowns slightly and he rephrases the question more directly.

“Did you see Sylus today?”

Is he…

“Zayne, Sylus and I were partners in the N109 Zone months ago. We’ve only texted-“

“So you had contact with him, yet you chose not to answer me back?"

Oh my god.

He is jealous.

“No. Well, that’s a lie,” I mutter flustered, “I do talk with him occasionally but today-“

He uses his thumb and places it over my lips gently, pursing them together to make me quiet. A small flash of cold dissipates as he leans closer. I can smell his body wash on him, and can see some of the steam still radiating from the hot shower. My eyes meet his in panic, though I am blushing so hard my face hurts.

“You’ve been a naughty little girl. Haven’t you?” My legs become weak as he says that. I release the grasp on my knees and let out a breath.

I was very open with Zayne about what happened between Sylus and I at the N109 Zone. I never hid the fact that I had slept with him, just like he confessed being with other girls as well. Since we’re not exclusive, we’ve never really bothered one another about it. Although when I started to develop feelings for him, I preferred not to ask so I would not get hurt. But this… this is different. Zayne is never jealous. And he never mentioned anything about Sylus. Shit, I didn't even know he remembered the guys' name.

He slowly slides his thumb into my lips, causing me to gasp slightly in surprise. I close my eyes and open my mouth to allow his finger in. I teasingly lick the tip of his thumb, causing him to let out a small exhale as he raises his eyebrows in surprise. I make eye contact with him and suck slightly on the tip of his frozen finger.

“You’re two hours late to our date, naughty little girl” He emphasizes, his eyes flashing darkly as he pulls his thumb out of my mouth and runs his fingers across my chin, holding the base of my chin with his hand while holding eye contact.

“What are you going to do about it, Dr. Zayne?” I manage to say, glancing at him with innocent eyes.

He smirks with a small hmph of approval and reaches to grab both of my wrists. He pins them above me as he lays himself on top of me on the bed. His towel falls off, and I squirm to try to wiggle away. He overpowers me easily with his stature and strength, but he loves it when I put up a fight.

He leans into my ear slowly, which makes me stay still as I feel his hot breath when he speaks.

“You owe me compensation.”

He begins to kiss my neck, causing me to melt under him. Every kiss sends a jolt of electricity and adrenaline through my body.

“I know-“ I whisper, feeling his lips collide harshly with mine. It is not long before I feel his tongue engulfing the inside of my mine, causing me to let out a small moan.

When he pulls away, there is a string of saliva hanging between our mouths. He doesn't acknowledge it and runs his tongue from my collarbone, up my neck, until he reaches the tip of my chin. He then grabs my face with his free hand, still pinning my hands with his left hand, and pulls me in for a deeper kiss, this time hungrier and breathing into me.

“Zayne” I whisper between his kisses, feeling his member becoming hard even though I am fully clothed.

“Take your fucking clothes off.” He whispers, already reaching into my shirt to tear it off.

I crack a smile at his impatience, which is met by his growl.

“Now, M/C,” He commands, glaring at me. “Doctor’s orders.”

I nod understandingly.

“Yes, Sir.”

I see the hesitation in his eyes when I say it. He nods and lets go of my hands as I begin to undress, revealing my lacey green underwear, which happens to match the color of his eyes.

He lays down on the bed as I undress, his member fully erect as he watches me remove everything but my lacey bra. When I finish, he signals with his index finger by pulling it towards him in a “come” motion.

Feeling my heartbeat against my chest, I make my way towards him and await my fate. When I reach the edge of the bed, he signals again and I climb on the bed and on top of him. He pulls me in for another kiss as he runs his hands through my body, causing me to let out some deep exhales and heating me up more. Between my legs feels hot and ready to take him as I follow along with his kisses.

He reaches to unbuckle my bra as we continue kissing passionately. Right as I was about to feel his member, he pulls me up and begins playing with my right nipple. I let out a loud groan as he flicks it with his tongue and grips the other one with the tips of his fingers, moving them in a slight friction motion.

“Z-Zayne.” I manage to say, feeling out of breath. “D-Dr. Zayne.” I moan.

He switches sides, playing with the left nipple using his tongue. He devlishly looks at me, enjoying every second of the torture he is giving me as he bites down gently. I can feel him reacting to it as his member twitches, almost landing in the right spot.

I so badly want to sit on him and use him.

He catches onto this and his eyes flash with excitement as he pins both of my hands behind my back.

Motherfucker.

“Don’t tease me!” I angrily let out a cry, feeling hot and embarrassed that I was caught.

It’s like he knew what I was going to say because a smile unfolds on his lips.

“That defiant look,” he admires proudly, “there’s my naughty girl.” He makes me arch my back by pulling my hands away as he sits up. He kisses my breasts and collarbone.

I moan with pleasure, tightening my grip around him with my legs and try to move my ass closer to his member.

All I have to do is get him in. Right now he is teasing me, but once he is in he won’t be able to contain himself and he’ll stop torturing me.

A slap on my ass startles me. I glance at him wide eyed.

“Did the doctor say you could move down like that? Naughty girl. Didn’t you say you’d listen to your doctor’s orders?”

He firmly grabs by face and pulls me closer to his with his free hand. As if waiting for a response, he says nothing and just breathes into me.

I slightly shake under him, startled by the slap but feeling adrenaline and pleasure from the sting.

I shake my head in response.

“Good. And you will follow your primary physician’s orders from now on, right my dirty little girl?” He cocks his head to the side, still holding my face and cocking it to the side to follow his gaze.

“Yes, Sir.” I let out, biting my lower lip.

He is going to keep toying with me until he loses it. I have to find a way for him to be inside me…. Or else I am going to go crazy.

He releases my face and kisses me deeply once again, inserting his tongue into my mouth and deepening his kisses again. His grip around my hands tightens as his member occasionally twitches, causing me to feel more wet and tight in spite of the fact that he is not even in me yet.

It’s right there…

I move my hips slightly and feel him slide in me. He lets out a growl as he grips my body closer. I gasp as I feel how hard he is with the combination of my lust for him.

“M/C….” He groans as I shift and insert him deeper, “You’re so… fucking stubborn…” he weakly releases the hands he was pinning behind my back. I quickly take the opportunity to wrap my arms around his neck and begin to bounce on him, causing him to eventually join me.

I let out some moans as I hold onto his perfectly sculpted body. He now feels so warm as my hands move down his chest, caressing his nipples and down to his hard abs. I glance down at him and admire his handsomeness for a moment, continuing my rhythm. I then run my fingers through his wet hair and work my way down to his back. I feel his muscles tensing up as I quicken my pace slightly, and he places my hands on my ass to guide me into a faster and deeper thrust.

His tongue meets mine as we thrust together, breathing into each other, me begging him not to stop, him murmuring sweet nothings into my ear.

The ecstasy of the moment makes it feel like a dream. I glance at his eyes hungrily as he moves me even faster, causing me to pant harder and being so close to my release. He places his forehead against mine and closes his eyes as he breathes out.

“Come for me, baby girl…”

Shocked by the nickname, I become tighter around his member. I let out a loud cry as he grips my ass and moves me faster.

“Come on me.” He commands.

I obey, feeling my legs shaking uncontrollably and feeling the warmth of the liquid being released between our legs. We stop moving and I lay my forehead against his chest, panting and almost wheezing against him.

I was not expecting him to say that. He had never-

He twitches inside me. I let out a moan escape as I clench my fist and I am about to punch his chest in retaliation. He catches my shaky first and unravels my hand. He puts my index finger into his mouth. He sucks on it and I realize he is staring right at me when I look up.

“What… was that?!” I say breathlessly, my expression demanding.

He releases my finger after sucking it and pulls me closer to his chest, his member still in me. “You liked it. I can tell when you're ready by how the walls of your vagina hold onto me.”

I scowl at his doctor terminology, at the fact that he is literally a doctor and knows these things. Before I could protest he places his hands roughly on my back and turns us around, placing me under him. He disconnects by pulling out his member, causing me to whimper in protest. Before I have the chance to scold him, he lowers himself and puts my legs on his shoulders. He flexes his biceps to lock me in as he runs his tongue between my legs.

I squirm in protest, feeling sensitive and tight from our thrusting earlier.

“Z-Zayne.” I manage to beg as he licks me. I try to move my legs but I am unable to, his grip is too strong. I attempt to use my hands, but soon feel them restrained with some ice cuffs he makes with his Evol.

Fuck. He has me down.

“Baby girl,” he whispers into my legs, I tense up and stop moving, “let me clean your mess. After that, I can make a bigger mess and you can clean it up.”

I glance down at him, my legs shaking under his grip. He is looking up at me when he releases a side smile. He then nods and continues using his tongue for more than just cleaning. Before I know it, he is inserting his fingers and playing with my clit with his thumb.

At one point I am almost screaming as I grip one of the pillows between the cuffs and my back arches away from the bed. I feel myself let go again and feel even more embarrassed but he does not even give me the chance to acknowledge it. He uses it as lube to move his fingers in and out of me faster until I come again.

I feel almost lightheaded when he positions himself on top of me. I wrap my legs around him, feeling him insert himself and thrusting into me. I release the pillows as I feel myself melt under him and place my arms around his neck. He breathes into me: kissing me, licking me, biting my lips, moaning into me as he gets closer and closer to his climax.

Goddamnit, Zayne…. You’re so fucking sexy.

I notice his thrusting changes to an intense pace. He is moving faster and thrusting deeply into me, letting out more grunts and noises.

I place my forehead against his, he grips my body tightly as he moves me with him. His moans become more frequent as his breathing sharpens. He quickly pulls his member out and I feel his hot fluids on my breasts and abdomen. I let out a moan as he finishes, and the cuffs disappear before I can even ask him to release me.

Panting, he falls by my side and has his eyes closed. I notice he is blushing when I move his hair out of his face to caress his cheek. I turn to face him, kissing the tip of his nose and his forehead, which have a small amount of sweat.

I love you.

I wanted to say it. It would be the perfect time to say it. But he eventually opens his gorgeous green eyes and makes eye contact with me. He sighs in between pants and leans closer to me while pulling me in against his chest.

I lay there, quietly listening to his heartbeat coming to a steady rhythm. His breath evening out as he drifts into sleep with his hand against my lower back and the other one on my shoulder.

We spend the rest of the night wrapped in each others arms without saying anything else, as we have many times before and will continue to do.

This was our relationship. Our situationship. This would never change because of our own choices. I was okay with that, as long as I could keep lying here in his arms, pleasuring him, it was all worth it.

I was deeply asleep in Zayne’s arms that I did not notice Mephisto passing by Zayne’s apartment window. His eyes glinting red as he senses me and he flaps his wings against the night sky. Letting out a caw, he circles around the building.

“Good job,” Sylus’ voice radiates through Mephisto as he continues to fly around the building. “I’ve finally found my kitten.”

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force • ch 3

Chapter 3 - DARK PREMONITION 

Jake x female reader

Words: 14.1k

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

*It's been over a month, and I'm so sorry. Life has been happening fast. Thank you for sticking with me through this one, I hope you're enjoying where this story is going!

Warnings: Dystopian Horror, Cursing, Crying, Suspense, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Violence (& mention of firearms), Kidnapping, Mentions of Forced Beatings, Wounds and Pain, Blood, Death & Dying, Lying, Attacks, Deceit, Panic, Mental Anguish

Y/N

Three days, we’ve been in here. Three days since we were all blindfolded and made to sit in the metal-walled room, cold and terrified and confused. Three days since Paps and I had tried to make a run for it, and ended up almost crashing the truck into those black, shadowy creatures.

And three days since I had sat face to face with Jake Kiszka.

They’ve barely let us sleep, let alone see the light of day. On that first night, they’d drug us into a long room lined with cots, not even saying a word to us as we all just assumed we were to lay down and sleep. Luckily I’d found Paps and we were able to get cots beside one another, but the fact that he was able to be close to me still didn’t ease any of the deep, unsettling feelings in my gut about what the hell is going on. 

Paps and I had managed to talk to a few of the other people in the group, and just like us, they were kidnapped by strange, shadowed creatures, too. Everyone described it the same way, like it was out of a horror film. They looked human, sort of, but they didn’t feel it. They were cloaked in hooded robes, and none of us ever saw their faces. They had an aura I couldn’t explain, like they had one foot on earth with us, and one foot somewhere else completely. 

My intuition told me that since they felt so terrifyingly separate from breathing in the same air as me, that maybe they really weren’t of this earth. Fucking outrageous, I thought to myself, but, was it? Honestly, these days, nothing is surprising. 

The men that surround us constantly are dressed in black and armed to their teeth, and they remind me of those scary looking “military” men you’d see on video games, with their night-vision glasses and helmets strapped tightly under their chins. They’re quiet, but they use force at every given chance. I know underneath all of the garb, they’re just men. 

And still yet, I hate them.

They have all of us pushed into this singular room and forced to pretend that everything is normal. I want to scream at them, beg them for answers, be the one who finally lashes out for the rest of the group, but I hold back. I admit, their guns do scare me. 

“Y/N, is that… Jake, over there?” Paps asks me as we sit facing one another on our cots, each of us wrapped in the thin gray blankets they’d supplied us with. “The one that played guitar, right?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, it is him, Paps. Crazy, right? I can’t even wrap my head around all of this…” The situation we’re in is one that I truly would have never even dreamt up. I find myself thinking I’m crazy, dreaming… or living inside some type of wild mental break from the terror of realizing the world is ending. I feel like I could go to sleep and wake up in my own bed, in my own little cottage back in Cheatham county, and all of this would be a strange and unfond memory. But what little sleep I have gotten the past couple of days has given me no rest at all, only adding to my awful mental state.

“How did he get here, too? I mean, I guess fame doesn’t matter during the apocalypse, but…” Paps is having a hard time understanding, too. I glance over to Jake, seeing him sitting cross-legged on his cot, staring at the floor below him as he’s wrapped in his blanket just as we are. The wounds on his face look better than they did three days ago, but I can still see the scratches and bruises.

A year ago, I’d be starstruck, shaking and giddy with nerves from being in such close quarters with one of my idols. But now, here, we’re on level playing field. We’re all lost and confused, hungry, and terrified. Hostages who can’t decide on our next move. 

“You should go and talk to him,” Paps suggests, his voice gritty. 

“NO!” I almost yell. “I mean, no, I… wouldn’t even know what to say…” I reply, my eyes jumping between Jake and Paps. 

“What do you mean?!” Paps says. 

“I… I don’t know, I mean. The other day when they were taking our blindfolds off, I showed him my tattoos. He recognized them, and he shook his head, telling me no, told me to stay quiet. I dunno, the look in his eye was threatening, like he didn’t–I don’t know. Like he didn’t want to even be associated with me,” I explain to Paps quietly as one of the guards passes by us. 

“What can he even say though, sweetheart? None of us know what is going on, maybe he has some clue? Maybe you could talk to him, he looks…”

It’s true, Jake looks more downtrodden than all of us. He always carried himself with just the right mix of confidence and humbleness, catching the eye of every single person he passed, but now it looks like the weight of the world is literally on his shoulders. He hasn’t spoken to a soul. Has hardly moved from his cot except to visit the one-stall bathroom at the end of the room. I’ll admit, I do feel bad for him, and I have thought about going and speaking to him again, but… the way he looked at me the other day…

“Just go, honey. We’re all just people, here…” Paps urges, reaching his arm out to push my shoulder in Jake’s direction. 

I take a quick deep breath, centering myself as I work up the confidence. This is so strange. I stand up and wrap my arms in the blanket, letting my feet carry me across the cold tile floor. 

I slowly walk to him, approaching him gently, not wanting to startle him from his gaze straight down into the floor. I crane my neck a bit, willing him to look at me. “Jake?” my voice is raspy. 

His eyes, those eyes I stared into for so many years as I watched him on stage, watched him in interviews, watched him fall in love with his instrument over and over again… the warm chocolate brown they used to be are now a sullen, deep black, and I know immediately that the life they once held has started to quickly fade to something else. 

They shoot to look back at me. Fast, while he recognizes me, then back down to the floor. He stirs on his seat. “You shouldn’t speak to me,” he mumbles, and I feel my heart shatter. He’s uneasy again, just like when he saw my tattoos. 

“I—I won’t bother you, if that’s what you want, I… I noticed you haven’t spoken much to everyone else and I just wanted to say hello, not as a, you know… but as a fellow capturee.” 

I don’t even know what I’m saying. Capturee? I’m blabbering. I’m starstruck! Yes, even still in this dark room during the apocalypse I am still…starstruck by him. Captured by his fucking presence, just like I always thought I would be if I ever got the chance to meet him. 

He bites his lips quickly as he avoids me. My hands clench together underneath my blanket, and I realize that what I’d actually said wasn’t that bad, I am truly just trying to reach out. 

After a few seconds, he taps the cot in front of him, inviting me to sit. Though it seems he doesn’t really want me to, I still believe he’s too sweet to turn someone away when they speak to him. 

So I gently sit where his hand was, swallowing hard as my heart rate flies. And within seconds, I’m face to face with him again. But this time, I’m so close, I can see everything that all those photographers over the years just couldn’t capture. He is so fucking…

“I said you shouldn’t speak to me, not that I don’t want to speak back,” he says, gritting out his words as his eyes dart around. 

“I—I’m sorry, I guess I don’t understand—“

Suddenly he grabs my arm in his hand, gripping it from underneath the blanket I hug around myself. He pulls my sleeve back, and quickly takes account of all of my tattoos I’d shown him just two days prior. I let him, his grip fast and sloppy, and I can just barely feel the rough callouses still left behind on his fingertips from all the years of playing his guitar. My stomach falls. 

My arm is resting palm up in his hand as he gazes on it, and I can see his back rise and fall a few times as he takes deep breaths. Then, as quickly as he’d gripped it, he pushes it back to me. I’m speechless. 

“What’s your name?” he whispers, his eyes bouncing to the guards. 

“Y/N,” I reply. 

“You followed us? Back then?”

I nod, “Yeah, I did. Since uh, since Strange Horizons, up until…”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, shaking his head just a little. I’m off-put by his attitude, and I begin to wonder if he really isn’t as sweet as he’d put on all those years. 

“So it’s safe to assume you’re well-versed with everything we ever made…” he asks, rubbing his hands over his face as the blanket sits over his shoulders. 

“Yeah, I’d say I am…I mean, I was one of those people that did the ‘deep-diving’, I’m sure you knew about all that,” I stumble out. 

He nods as he winces at me. A guard walks behind me, and I watch as Jake tenses in his presence, avoiding looking at him, too. 

“Yeah, we knew about that.” His words are clipped, and I’m able to tell, now, that maybe he really doesn’t want to talk to me, even though he invited me to sit on his cot with him. 

“Um, it was…a lot of fun, figuring it all out…when you guys would release something new my friends and I would research and memorize and try and put all the pieces together for the world you’d built. Try to connect the dots, match things up from previous albums and try to project what was going to happen next. I can’t tell you how many theories there were—“

“God…” He scoffs again, rolling his eyes as he leans his head back, huffing an exasperated exhale. The fuck is his problem? He’s kind of starting to piss me off… I didn’t have to come over here and speak…

So I stop where I am, giving him the same sarcastic-ass look he’d just given me, and I begin to stand. “Alright, well it was nice meeting you.”

“No, wait…” his hand is on my elbow. “Sorry, you don’t have to…”

I pause, giving him a questioning look that tells him I don’t feel like my presence is welcome. 

“Please, sit back down,” he says, releasing his touch. I slowly do, wrapping my arms more tightly around myself to match his distant energy. I watch as he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he thinks about what to say next. I’ve never seen him anxious, before. I’m the one that should be anxious. 

“How did they get you?” he asks quietly, this time finally looking me in the eye as he leans in a little closer. 

I push my knotted, unwashed hair behind my ear. “Well, my Paps and I were the only two of my family left, everyone else passed from the rash.” I point my eyes over Jake’s shoulder toward Paps, and he turns to look at him. “We got ahold of someone’s truck, and were heading back toward the city when we ran into these…things….” I try to think back on that experience, really feeling embarrassed that I am about to admit to Jake fucking Kiszka that I think we were abducted by aliens or some shit. Fuck. But, I digress…

“Things?” he asks. 

“Yeah, um. They were like… really tall, shadowy, men? I don’t know, they didn’t feel um. They didn’t feel human, when they captured us. I know that sounds crazy…” I try and awkwardly explain. But, it’s the truth. 

He cocks his head. “They didn’t feel human?”

“No, they felt almost, otherworldly. Like they were only halfway here,” I shake my head, trying to make myself sound like I know I’m crazy. “I dunno.”

But the look he returns to me isn’t what I expected. He doesn’t look at me like I’m insane. He looks at me like he just understood it. Just understood it all. 

“Fuck…” he mutters through his lips, his eyes wide with realization.

“What?” I press. “How about you? Where um, where is everybody else?”

He breaks away from his surprised stare. “I don’t know. Got separated. We were all staying up at some cabins back in Michigan, they came in the middle of the night. We all tried to fight them off, but it was no use. I woke up in the back of a truck, then again in a room like they had us held in when we were blindfolded,” he explains.

I won’t lie, I’m fucking enamored with the way he’s speaking to me right now, even with the heavy subject. I can’t help it. For years, just like every other person as deep in the fandom as I was, I spent my time being enraptured by him and the person he was. Completely taken by him, and possessing a crush unlike any other I’d ever had in my life. We all did. He’s still that man, just a little older, now. A little scruffier, a little more wrinkly. But then again, I’m showing my age, too. 

But I take his words in, picturing the scene and pretending I was there, and the fear he must have felt. How they all must have felt, being kidnapped by those things in the middle of the night.

“Your whole family was there?” I ask.

He nods. “I don’t even know who was kidnapped and who they left behind. But, it was men that took us, just like the fuckers patrolling us right now. They definitely weren’t aliens.” 

Did Jake Kiszka just fucking pick on me?

He smiles just a little bit as he watches me get offended. “I didn’t say they were aliens!” I yelp.

“Shh, shh!” he laughs, pressing his hand gently over my mouth. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly or else you’ll have the whole room freaking out.”

I bite my lips. Hard. Fuck, his hand was just on my mouth. 

I sigh. “I didn’t say they were aliens…” I whisper. “I said that they didn’t feel fucking human, okay?”

He breathes through another little laugh. “I know. I don’t doubt anything at all, these days,” he says. 

“So you don’t think I’m crazy?” I ask, just to clarify.

He takes a breath, looking behind me. “No, Y/N, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

My god, he just said my name. I have got to get my shit together. 

“Good,” I spit. “Because whatever had ahold of me wasn’t a person.”

His face goes white, and I watch his wheels spin. I can tell he believes me and my outlandish description. 

“Everyone up! Single file through the double doors! And stay quiet!” We’re suddenly aroused by the deep voice of one of the guards commanding that we all stand and move toward the doors. They’ve only done this once before, when they fed us what you could describe as a meal of sorts, but the effort it took to choke down would suggest otherwise. My attention is immediately redirected to Paps as I watch him stand and join Jake and I in moving toward the doors. 

“Paps, this is Jake,” I introduce them, and I watch as the slightest bit of a sparkle comes into Paps’ eyes as they shake hands. “Jake, my grandfather, Don.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Jake says, and his voice sounds almost normal. 

“Pleasure is mine, son. I uh, quite enjoyed watching you play over the years,” Paps says. 

Jake’s eyes brighten as they look back to me. “Is that right?!”

“I kinda made Paps into a bonafide fan, just like me. He came to a few shows,” I explain, feeling a little shy at admitting this, in this setting.

“Wow, shame we didn’t get to meet before, sir,” Jake says, with a half-smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“Silence!” one of the guards bellows, lifting his baton high in the air before letting it fall directly over Jake’s back. “You weren’t told to speak!” 

I scream out, I can’t help it. Jake falls to the ground in pain and Paps falls to his knees beside him, as they were still holding hands from the handshake. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” I yell, falling alongside them as he holds the baton high into the air again, ready for another strike. “Stop!!!”

The baton falls hard onto Jake’s back again before the guard stands back up, moving away from the line and addressing the group. I hear Jake hissing in pain as Paps helps him stand back up. 

“Does anyone else have anything to say?!” the guard yells, and I wish to god I could see his face behind his mask. The group mutters a few quiet no’s. “That’s what I fucking thought! Now move!”

We are all talking, why did they just punish him for it? Paps and I help Jake to stand and follow along with the line, and I feel myself seething with rage. What in the fuck was that even for?! We can’t even speak?

“Are you okay?” I whisper quietly to him. 

“M’fine,” he says, and we nearly carry him down the long, fluorescent-light lit hallway to the next room. It’s strange being around actual electricity again, and I snarl my nose at the fact that they’ve somehow found a way to harness it after the world has suffered so long without it.

After a couple of seconds he pushes our help away and we fall into the single-file line, walking fairly quickly to the room where they fed us before. 

JAKE

They told me they were going to treat me just the same as everyone else, but I never thought they’d be physically harming me out here in front of everyone. If anything, it’s almost as if they’re singling me out instead of blending me in, which kind of defeats the purpose, if they were telling me the truth. I know two of the men on guard with us are the two that spoke with me in the dark room, but I can’t tell if they are the ones using violence against me. Fuck, nothing really makes sense. And all I want is out of this goddamned building so I can find my family.

Now, as they throw us into this room with one singular long table, we gather to eat this sorry excuse of a meal again, all in complete silence. I can’t believe she had the confidence to come and talk to me on the cot earlier after that harsh, wordless look of warning I gave her two days ago when we were unblindfolded. I thought she may have gotten my warning and caught onto my message for her to stay silent, but I guess I have been on the anti-social side of things and probably look like I’ve been hit by a truck. 

Of course I’m locked up in this place with an old fan. Of fucking course. And of course she’s tattooed with all the symbolism we wrote into our music and art over the years, making her an unknown easy fucking target for this shit, if they knew. If they find out that she has just as much knowledge about whatever kind of shit we apparently fucking predicted, then she’s just as much on the road to having that baton over her back as I am. Should I tell her what I know? But even if I did, what would it change? She can’t wipe her tattoos off just as much as I can’t change my name. 

We all sit and eat in silence, all of us eyeing one another as the rest of them look on to me with pity, after having that fucking baton across my back. They don’t know me, I don’t think. None of them, except Y/N, have given me that feeling of being known, yet. 

As I scarf down the bland potatoes and cold canned vegetables, I run over the plethora of thoughts I’ve had for the past couple of days. I scan back to the very last few minutes I had with my family, if there was any detail that I’d forgotten, if there was any inkling I’d heard or missed that could give me any clue as to where they are. But every time I dig, I come up short. 

So then I move along to the conversation I had with those two in the dark room again. All those fucking wild things they told me, making me feel like this all is truly a fucked up dream. Realms? Other worlds? The battle… and the fact that they explicitly explained to me that the ones who live between both of these “worlds” are unlike us, could be the explanation for Y/N saying the ones who captured her felt like they were only halfway here. 

Kinda solidified that for me. She said it perfectly; the ones who captured them must have been the family that exists in both places, the ones who the Two told me were out still capturing immunes. It all adds up. But now, what do I do with all of this? And where the fuck am I gonna find my family?

My heart wrenches everytime I think of them, and how Josh and Sam and Daniel must be being treated exactly the same as I am, about to be pressured for information that we didn’t even know was important outside of our little fantasy music world. All those days Daniel spent locked away in his room, finally understanding that what we’d written was coming true. All of it being tied together… fuck, he was so right. And now we’re being punished for it. Used for it. I can feel my twin’s guilt from here.

I watch as one of the older ladies in the group is forced up by her arm, being pulled into another room. And then the same with the teenage boy. I panic, wondering where they’re taking them, and if we’re all subject to go. The rest of us all glance to one another in fear for a minute or two, until I hear what sounds like rushing water. A shower. Fucking finally. 

I haven’t felt a sense of impending relief like this in weeks. I’m hoping that the water is warm, at least, and they give us a few minutes of privacy to really get the good out of it. I look over to Y/N, and instead of seeing relief on her face, too, I see fear. 

It’s then that I realize there’s the possibility of one of the guards seeing her tattoos. She doesn’t know why, but she knows that based upon my look of warning, maybe they shouldn’t be seen. Now, I’m regretting not telling her. I have to do something. 

I get her attention and place both my elbows on the table, gently pulling my sleeve down with my pointer finger as I point to where her tattoos would rest on her arm. When I’m sure she’s locked in on me, I shake my head side to side, and again I place my pointer finger across my lips. Don’t let them see it, Y/N. Her brows furrow in confusion, and I try my damndest to quietly and secretly make her understand my charade. Finally I watch as realization falls over her, as she nods in return. 

Now I have to explain myself. 

A few minutes later one of the guards pulls me up and walks me to the apparent shower room, thrusting me inside and following me in. It’s even darker in here, which I’m thankful for, and there is a small stall with an old ratted shower curtain in the corner. The rest of the room is all concrete, with a small, cracked mirror on one wall and a tall cabinet on the other. “Undress,” the guard orders as he shoves me behind the curtain. I follow his order, the pull to have fresh water pouring over me more than my want for much else, right now.

The guard stands in the room with me, with his face to the wall. A little awkward, I think to myself as I look around for a shower head. “You gonna join me, or are you just here to make sure I don’t drown?” I ask him sarcastically as I peek from behind the dirty curtain. The water begins pouring from the chrome shower head, and I feel an ecstasy that I didn’t think was even possible, anymore. The water is lukewarm, but I’ll take what I can get.

I spot an old bottle of soap in the corner and help myself, lathering myself up quickly in fear of losing time in this paradise. I wash every crevice and my hair thoroughly, making quick time to rinse so I can spend a few blissful seconds with the water plummeting on my face. “Mmm, sure is nice in here, sure you don’t want to join?” I ask again, trying to egg him on or piss him off. I hum a loud song as if I’m enjoying myself, cocky with it even though I’m terrified of getting hit on the back again. I don’t even know if it was him that did it, I can’t tell any of them apart. 

Suddenly the masked guard is standing right by my shower curtain, tall and overbearing as he can almost see overtop of the pole. “You really don’t ever shut the fuck up, do you, Kiszka?” he blurts. 

I smile. It worked. I immediately recognize his voice as one of the Two. 

I continue rinsing myself off as I try and think of what to say next. “No, everyone always called me the quiet one, until they spent more than five minutes with me. Then they couldn’t get away quick enough,” I joke. “You the one with the baton? Could fucking ease up a little next time, you really make that shit real.”

“No. Isn’t me, it’s my brother,” he answers. The Two, they’re brothers?

Actually now, the more I think about it, the three minutes I spent with them in the dark the other day felt a little familiar. Their voices did mirror one another’s, and they seemed to offset the other’s energy. I could tell that without even seeing them.

“Was that the other one in the room with us two days ago? When you were explaining–”

“Yes. Was both of us,” his answer is clipped.

It’s silent for a second as I wait for him to say something else. Just then, my warm, blissful water supply cuts off, and my skin is already begging for it to come back. I groan at the loss, and begin wringing the water from my hair. “So you gonna give me something else? Any updates? They gonna take me away in the middle of the night again and drag me to a torture chamber to get answers out of me?”

I hear him huff a distasteful breath. “Listen, man, I don’t have much more information for you right now, but just know that yeah, that could probably happen at any minute. They haven’t told us much, lately. And I doubt they torture you…” he trails off. 

I rip the shower curtain open, completely uncaring that he’s seeing me stark naked, right now. Hell, this man has shared forbidden secrets with me, and I’ve never even seen his face. Fuck it. 

“Got a towel?”

He steps to the side and whips a door to the cabinet open, pulling out a thin white towel and tossing it across my torso. “Thanks,” I mumble. He then throws another set of thick fabric at me and I catch it before it falls. A pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt, both the same ugly gray color that look like they belong in a prison laundromat. Actually, maybe at one point, they did. 

I finish drying off and get dressed, and the man stands in front of the door with his back to me again. “That girl you were talking to, do you know her?” he asks. 

“No, not really,” I respond, “why?”

He shakes his helmeted head. “Just wondering, I do know that they’re going to take that old man that she sits with and sleeps beside.”

“Take him? Why? To where?” I’m suddenly panicked with worry, and I barely just met the man.

“He’s old, man. His time is limited. I don’t know much, but I’ve heard that they do some type of experimentation on the older immunes, see how much they can use them to their own advantage before their time is up,” he explains. 

“What the fuck? Experiments?!” I try and stay quiet when all I want to do is scream. “What is this, the fucking 1900’s?”

“I dunno Jake, all I’m saying is I heard they’re going to be taking the oldest from each of the pods here in the next few days and transferring them–”

“Pods? What are pods?” Now, I’m in his face, staring directly up into the dark glasses covering his eyes. 

“Eh, nothing, I can’t–”

“You can’t what, you can’t tell me? You’ve already given me all this fucking information and now you want to stop? I thought you said if I played my cards right, you’d be my best fucking friend… I’ve been cooperative, huh? So far?” I press. “What are fucking pods?”

His head nods away as he sighs, some type of radio beeping on his side. My time in the shower must be up. “Please…” I beg. “Is my family nearby?”

He looks at me again. “Listen, I don’t know much about the other pods, but I think that they are. I thought… I thought I saw your younger brother yesterday, walking down the main hall.”

“Sam..” I breathe.

“Yeah, Sam. The guy on the bass,” he responds. “I can’t tell you truthfully, Jake. Honestly, I just caught a glimpse. I would tell you more if I could, and as I learn more, I’ll feed it to you. We’ve just gotta be fucking careful, man. The other guards here don’t fuck around, ok? They’re trusted hires. Me and my brother, they have all the reason in the world to trust us. But they shouldn’t.”

I nod as his radio beeps again, and I place my hand on his shoulder. “Listen, would you do anything for your brother? Anything in the world to see him safe, alive?” 

I hear him swallow from behind his face covering. “Yeah, uhm. Yeah, I would.”

“Then you understand what it means to me when you said you think you saw Sam, what it means that I have to find them, protect them… just like you’d do for your brother just outside this wall, right?”

“Yeah, man. Yeah, I get it. I swear, as soon as I know more, you will hear it, too. From me or him. Remember, we’re on your side. We’re breaking free of this fucking place as soon as enough immunes are gathered… and we come up with a plan,” he says honestly. 

“I’m good at plans,” I say. “I’ll help.” He turns and opens the door, and I feel the rush of cold air enter the room with us, sending a chill over my still-warm skin. “And tell your brother that my fucking back hurts from the beatings…”

He forcefully ushers me back out into the dining area to join the rest, whispering to me through grit teeth. “All part of the charade…”

—-

As I’m laying on my cot later that night, I try to think of how in the hell I’m going to relay all of this to Y/N. How I’m going to warn her that they may be planning on taking her grandfather away. How we’re being kept in something called pods, which signifies to me that we’re just in some giant building being held in small groups so as to keep gossip to a minimum, keep us unorganized, distant. How I’m going to pass along to her the notion that everything we wrote, every piece of media we created, everything she followed and absorbed for so many years has literally everything to do with the situation we’ve found ourselves in. If I know anything about our fanbase at the time, it’s that though we wrote that music to be up for interpretation, most of it held true to a general, underlying fabric of that imaginary world. Well, I thought it was imaginary, and apparently Josh did too, until…

Should I tell her all of this? Should I even take the time to try and explain? I don’t even know her, but I almost feel obligated, at this point, to share my knowledge. She’s marked herself with proof that she knows the innermost details of our work, and has most likely formulated her own theories on it all. Of course they’d pester her for information, she’s a direct connection.

It may even be against her benefit to be seen talking to me.

I take a deep breath, wondering what good it would do to tell her about her grandfather, like she could stop it anyway. They’d probably just use force with them, too, and carry him off against his will if they tried to disobey and fight against the situation. 

The room is dark and quiet, save for the dimmed lights in the four corners of the room and the light snoring of my comrades locked up in here with me. I glance to my left, seeing Y/N laid on her side a few cots down, facing my way. Slowly, I lift my hand high into the air to wave at her, hoping that she’s still awake. 

A second later her arm is mirroring my action, floating up into the air and waving back at me. In the pale light, I can see a smile form on her face, her eyes lighting up just a bit as we both lower our arms back down beside us. It’s strange, I wonder what she’s thinking being locked up in here with me. I don’t often think about that kind of thing, from a “fan’s” point of view. I never really did, but sometimes it hits you. I wonder what it feels like to be on their side of things? Guess like how it felt when my brothers and I found ourselves in the presence of someone we looked up to. 

But this is quite different. 

I’ve got to get this information to her. If I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my days. But how in the hell am I going to speak to her while we’re under the constant eye of these masked men?

Could I write her a note, detailing it all out? No, they could find it, and then we’d really be in deep shit. Telekeneisis, speaking in code, using more hand gestures? I’m starving, and my mind is getting to a point of delirium. If it weren’t for that shower today and those frozen carrots, I’m sure I’d be on the verge of passing out, right now.

My eyes feel heavy as I watch her face half shadowed in the darkness, and I know it won’t be long until I think of something…

I fall asleep with a song stuck in my head, one that I haven’t even thought of in ages,

‘The drums will shake the castle wall, the Ringwraiths ride in black, ride on

Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before…’

The melody of Page’s mandolin is ringing in my ears as memories of writing with my brothers infiltrates my mind, my body begging for peaceful mental rest. I can almost feel the instrument in my hand and the strings against my fingers as I hear the song playing in my memory. 

‘The magic runes are writ in gold

To bring the balance back, bring it back…’

 Maybe tomorrow will bring something new. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Y/N

“Jake… Jake, wake up…” I urge him, watching as his eyes flit around behind his eyelids. I gently press his shoulder, feeling quite uneasy about coming in on such a private moment of his. How on earth I’ve found myself being able to be the one waking him up from a deep sleep, I’ll never know. So many years ago I dreamed of just being in their presence during a show, and now, this? I dunno. Mysterious ways. 

“Jake, hey…” I try again, learning that he’s a fairly heavy sleeper. I watch his eyes finally open and register my face, and so I step back a bit as I cower from his bubble. “I’m sorry, the guards have already started patrolling, and they’re acting really weird, not telling us anything… just thought you’d want to be awake for it,” I say, having trouble explaining.

He sits up under his blanket and rubs his hands over his eyes and face. I can see the dark circles under them have gotten much worse. I also see that sometime during the night, he’d taken his shirt off, and I notice the swollen bruises on his back from the baton yesterday. They’re puffy and red, and I feel horrible knowing he has to be in pain. 

“You took your shirt off, are you not freezing in here?!” I ask, hugging my arms to myself in effort to deter asking him about his back.

“No,” he mumbles, grabbing it from the floor and sliding it back over his head. “I burn up when I sleep, burn up all the time, actually. Can’t stand having clothes on.”

I open my mouth to argue with him, my mind zipping directly back to all those years ago when we would literally beg him to take his stage jacket off for a show, and even then, he only ever showed himself shirtless a handful of times. Psh, the fucker must have liked to sweat. But it feels out of place to question him, now. 

“Everyone up! Dressed! Single file!” one of the guards yells across the room as they all finally stand at attention. 

We do as they say, getting into our little line that we’re all now so accustomed to, standing silently in front of the double doors. My hand reaches behind me and finds Paps’, the two of our fingers quickly squeezing one another’s as we remind each other that we’re okay. Jake ended up in front of me, and I can’t help but notice that his hair is as long as it’s ever been… the ends a little frayed but still sitting perfectly across his shoulders in a way my hair could never even dream of doing. I want to reach out and run my fingers through it, it looks so shiny and soft, but I stop myself, knowing that a younger me would be shaking in her boots, right now. 

“We’re going outside today, your pitiful asses need sunlight and fresh air, or else you might wither up and die, and we can’t have that,” one of the guards announces with a sarcastic laugh. I listen closely to his voice and realize that he sounds like he’s around my age. I wonder how on earth he got tied up with a job like this, at the end of the fucking world, no less. His accent even sounds local. 

“Thirty minutes. You can conversate, but keep it to a minimum, we will be monitoring your every move, your every uttered word, and don’t think we won’t,” he says, and his voice is so normal, that it isn’t even threatening. His words, though, are. “Stay within the boundaries of the courtyard, or we will use force. Do not fucking test us.” He turns and adjusts his weapon in his hands as another one opens the double doors for us to be led out. We only take a few steps before he turns back around. “Oh, and it’s not warm outside. So enjoy that.”

They lead us through the doors and down a long hallway, almost as dimly-lit as the room we live in. I see multiple doors but no windows, just long, maze-like hallways of beige-colored walls. We walk for a long time, up and down flights of stairs, and I start to wonder if they are just giving us a little extra exercise. I turn to look at Paps, finding him keeping up just fine, surprisingly. “You okay?” I mouth to him.

He smiles, giving me a sweet nod. I feel proud of him, even in this devastation we’re living in. 

As I turn back around, I see Jake looking at me directly in the eye. He seems out of breath, but not in a sense that he’s tired. He looks nervous. His eyes flick to the side and I follow them, seeing an old fire extinguisher hanging on the wall, a big black ‘X’ painted across the front of it. That’s odd. 

We walk more, and I feel the muscles in my legs start to tire up a bit on our fourth walk up a flight of stairs. We stay silent still yet, all glancing around at one another as we start to realize how huge this building really is. 

We’re led through a door again, and I watch as Jake’s eyes flit back to me again, motioning at me to look at that exact…same…extinguisher?

What the fuck?

I watch as Jake is shaking his head side to side in front of me, his fists clenching at his sides. I can tell that he’s mad, I can feel it radiating off of him. We round the corner at the end of the long hall, and finally, another set of double doors are opening to allow us to see the light of day for the first time in nearly a week. 

My eyes burn and water at the sight of it, the icy cold wind already blowing across my face as we all walk slowly outside into the grassy courtyard. Fuck, this feels good. The wind freezes my nostrils, but the sun is bright. Beaming hot rays shine down onto my face, and I take a deep breath, smelling the scent of impending snow coming through the air. As my eyes dilate, I see the green of the grass, the brown bark of the barren trees, the shadows cast from the overbearing sunlight. It’s all almost overwhelming. 

As I get my bearings and shade my eyes in the light, I look around to find everyone else doing the exact same. Not even a week we’ve been locked indoors, but that was all it took for us to crave being outside.

“Do you smell the snow?” Paps asks, a sweet smile underneath his mustache.

“Yes,” I whisper, grabbing onto his arm as we share giggles. It is rare that we get heavy snows in Tennessee, but when we do, they arrive harsh and quick. And with the way the sun feels so different now, and the weather has made such harsh changes…

I subconsciously look around for Jake, and I finally see him seated on a stone bench, his hands in his lap as he looks around at the buildings that surround us. I look back at Paps, and he motions for me to go and join him. I bite my lip. “Just go,” he says. 

As I slowly approach him, I hug my arms around myself again, feeling my skin chill from the wind. “So I guess this cold isn’t bothering you, huh?” I ask him, noting his very relaxed and carefree posture as it cuts through me like a knife. 

He looks down and picks a loose string from the gray sweats that they’ve given us. “Not really in the least,” he smiles a little, glancing up at me with one eye. I take the seat next to him on the cold bench. 

“I’m jealous, I freeze all the time. Bet you’re thriving in that cold dungeon they’re keeping us in,” I say, a little awkwardly. 

“It isn’t a dungeon,” he blurts out, his fingers brushing over the stubble that’s started to grow in over his lip and chin. I always loved him with a mustache…

“What? How do you know?”

“Did you see the fire extinguisher I pointed out to you? We passed it three times,” he says. 

“I–I’m not understanding…”

He turns slightly and glances at the guards around us, stopping speaking as they pass by. “These buildings aren’t that big… not big enough for us to have gone up and down four flights of stairs and down the exact same hallway three times. Either that guy was lost, or they were trying to confuse us on how to get out of here.”

“Oh…” I say, all of it actually making sense as I look at the building, only two stories high. “Why did they…”

“I paid attention to where we were walking, because I want to know where in the fuck I need to go when I bust out of this place, even if I’m in the dark,” he growls quietly, crossing his arms. 

“Bust out?! Jake, you can’t–”

“Yes the fuck I can,” he says, his eyes cutting to me sharply. I completely lose my breath, he is still so…

His jaw clenches as he keeps eye contact with me for just a second too long. “I think they were trying to tire out your grandfather, too,” he says. 

My heart falls. “Why, what do you mean?”

I watch his jaw clench again as he looks right ahead of us, his focused stare on the red brick of the building. “Jake! What are you talking about?” I press as I feel myself grow anxious. 

He turns to me, his face extremely close as he leans in, his eyes darting behind me to see if any of the guards are nearby. “They’re taking him.”

I feel the blood drain from my body. No… No. “They’re what? How do you know? What do you mean?!” I blab, almost too loudly. His fingers drift up to barely drift across my lips, just as they had done when he shut me up the first time. 

“Shh, you don’t know how to keep your voice down, do you?” he says, and he’s serious. For the second time in a week, Jake Kiszka has touched my lips. But, I can think about that later. His head swishes around nonchalantly as he whispers. “I have intel that they’re taking him, soon. The weakest and the oldest of the groups. It isn’t good, Y/N.”

“Wait wait, groups? There’s more of us? What in the–” I’m losing my breath, I’m so confused. “Where are they taking him? What for?” I whisper, already full of nerves and worry. 

“There are more of us. They keep us in small groups so we don’t spread gossip or information. They call them ‘pods’, and I have reason to believe that my family is in this very same building,” he explains. Just then, one of the guards walks right in front of us, giving Jake what looks to be the tiniest nod, his neck crooking ever so slightly down. 

…What? I watch as the guard’s finger slides off the trigger of his gun as he hangs closely nearby us. To my surprise, Jake keeps talking. 

“They are planning on taking your Paps, and uh,” he swallows. “What they do isn’t good, Y/N, I think they– I think they run some kind of tests on them…” 

I feel a rage I’ve never felt before boiling up in my veins. I want to lash out, I want to scream, I want to wage war on anyone who dares lay a finger on my grandfather. 

“Tests?” I ask, clipped, “What kind of tests?”

Jake swallows, keeping his eyes on the guard beside us. “Experiments.”

“Fuck…” I breathe. “No, they can’t, for what? He hasn’t done anything.. He–”

“He’s old, Y/N, his time is limited,” he says, and I watch as he struggles to explain it to me. Nothing is making sense… what in the hell is even happening? 

I’ve read plenty of books in my past that detail fictional apocalypses… the end of days in some other made-up world, but never did I think I would find myself in one, living day to day and having to think of ways to protect my family. Never.

“I won’t let them, I’ve got to do something…” I fluster, trying to stand from my place to go and be with Paps on the other side of the courtyard. Suddenly, I don’t want him out of my sight. If they’re going to take him, they’re going to take me. 

Jake’s hand is on my arm, stopping me from going anywhere. “Wait, listen. Don’t you want to know why they’re taking him, the oldest and the weakest?”

“Yes, but… you saw Paps in there, he kept up with us as we walked, he isn’t weak–”

“Exactly,” Jake says, “which makes me think we have some time.” I’m rendered speechless, the weight of everything falling over me as I’m enveloped with overwhelming worry. I look to the guard again as Jake goes on with a speech that he should be keeping quiet, but he isn’t.

“We’re immune, Y/N, from the rash. All of us, that’s why we’re here. They’re collecting us,” he says, no longer caring of the tone of his voice being loud enough for anyone to hear. I keep my eyes on the guard. 

“In the past few days, I’ve learned more than I ever thought could be possible, found out more information than I even have time to explain to you right now…”

“Try, Jake, please, I’m so lost…” I plead, my eyes never leaving the guard as Jake’s chin is almost rested on my shoulder, his lips close to my ear. I’m nearly shuddering at his proximity, but I have to force it away. The emotions running through me right now are almost too much to bear. 

“We are a part of something much, much bigger than us. Something that we can’t even fathom. You weren’t that far off when you said that those things that captured you didn’t feel human, it’s because they’re not. The world as we know it is trying to push us off, kill us with the monster that we created, but some of us, we are immune to that sickness. You, me, your Paps… all of us can’t be infected by technology. So they came and gathered us here to wait while the rest of us are collected, so that we can continue on with mankind.”

I’m speechless again as I let his words sink in. Nothing makes sense, everything is so far off base, I can hardly form a thought. 

Continue on with…mankind?

“There’s so much more to explain, and I will, later, but our connection to this is much, much deeper than the people that we’re locked in here with. And I think we are going to have to pay for it…”

“Pay?” I ask. “Why us, and not them?”

He’s quiet again as the wind blows his hair across my face. I think I’m about to pass out as I feel him so close, but then I remember the heaviness of the words he’s saying, and not the feeling of his strands drifting across my face, as I’ve pictured them doing a million times before…

“You loved our music, right? Must have meant you had a love for our inspiration?” he asks, throwing me off. 

“Yeah, I guess…” I say, blinking as his strands catch in my eyelashes. 

“There were a bunch… who was your favorite? Who did you listen to most?” he asks. 

What the fuck? What does this matter?

“Uh, I dunno, Zeppelin, I guess?” 

“Good! Good… that’s good… so you are very familiar with them…” he breathes, confusing me even more. I pull away and meet his eyes, full of some type of new light. 

“...Yes…” I say through my teeth, the irony of the comparison almost making me laugh given their past with the band. 

He swallows hard as we hear a whistle being blown. 

‘The drums will shake the castle wall, the Ringwraiths ride in black, ride on

Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before…’ he sings, and I instantly recognize the song. 

‘The magic runes are writ in gold

To bring the balance back, bring it back…’

I nod harshly. “Yes, Evermore…?” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Inspired us a lot for–”

“Garden’s Gate. Yeah, I kinda always figured that…” I interrupt, wanting him to get along with it. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He bites his lips, his cheeks turning a deep pink. “Plant drew inspiration from Tolkien to write that song, right? Based the lyrics on a far-away world?” he goes on.

“Right, yeah…”

He licks his lips as he tries to formulate his words. “What if Evermore were real? What if it really exists somewhere out there, but only very little people know of its existence?”

“What are you talking about, Jake?”

“Would it be so far off to think that a song inspired us so heavily that it gave my brother confidence to write about a world that he had dreamt up? Had nightmares about? Decades-long nightmares about a world that we don’t believe exists, but only in our music…?” 

My eyes clench as I try and understand. 

“Jake, I’m…” I don’t really understand what he’s trying to say. “Josh had nightmares?”

He nods slowly. “Tons of them. About battles, ancient tales, warriors, characters who inhabited other worlds…” He pulls away, his eyes fixated onto mine. “About technology overtaking the world…” 

Oh. Oh my…god…

My face drops as my eyebrows raise. “What… how is that even…?”

I look to the guard again, watching as he nods at me, just as he had Jake. I hear the whistle again. 

“I have more to tell you, but first we have to save your grandfather…” he says. 

I feel panicked. “Is that man your intel?” I ask Jake as I turn to him and ask about the guard beside us. 

He nods, taking both of my hands in his. “Yes, he can be trusted. And so can his brother. There is so much more, Y/N, I just need to know that you trust me… do you trust me?”

Me? Is Jake Kiszka asking me to trust him?!

“Yeah, of course I do… I just–” The group is being rushed out as the whistle continues to be blown. I’m being pulled in the crowd away from Jake… but I watch as he mumbles to me. 

‘The magic runes are writ in gold

To bring the balance back, bring it back…’

Suddenly Paps’ hand is grasped in mine, and I feel the wind cut through my thin sweatshirt. I glance over to Jake again as he points to his arm once more, again telling me not to let anyone see the marks of my tattoos.

—-

We’re led back inside, taking the same route we did earlier, but backwards. I pay attention now, realizing that Jake was absolutely right. We pass the fire extinguisher three times, and go up and down the staircases an uneven amount of times it would take in this two-story building, even if it were the dungeon that they are keeping us in. 

My throat is dry as my emotions settle in, and I keep a keen eye on Paps, who I have let walk in front of me in our line. I need to tell him, but they will hear me. They will know. 

And Jake has intel?! What the fuck? How did he know he could trust that guard, we couldn’t even see his face! And he has a brother…?! All of this is still so gray to me, and I struggle with myself as I become a little internally irate that I don’t know every detail, like Jake does. I wish that we had more time to talk. More privacy. 

Jake is somewhere in the line behind me, and I try my best not to turn around and look at him. I need to look at him. I pull my sleeve down over my ink-covered arm, just like he’d asked, clutching the fabric tightly in my hand as we pace down yet another hallway. 

As they’re pulling us through a heavy metal door, two other guards are standing on the threshold. These guards aren’t like the ones who stay with us, they’re taller, thinner, and dressed differently than the ones we’re familiar with. They’re dressed in robes with hoods covering their heads, with heavy armored clothing underneath. They aren’t armed, but their faces are still covered. As the line passes between them, my stomach drops with a horrible feeling of dread. Something isn’t right…

These men aren’t guards, they’re the same beings that took us from the truck that night. 

“Paps!!” I scream, just as they grab onto either one of his arms, dragging him away from the line and through the door to another room. “Let him go!!!” I yell, my voice barely making the words out as I grab onto his waist, pulling him away from them. 

I catch his eyes, panicked and terrified as he fights against them. I feel Jake suddenly behind me, reaching out for Paps’ hands, as well. “Where are you taking him?!” Jake screams. “Don!”

“Y/N, no! Don’t let them…!” Paps yells back at me before a cloth is stretched over his mouth and eyes, and the heavy doors shut before us, leaving the whole group in a fury of madness. 

All of us, all of these people whom we don’t know but have spent the past few days locked up alongside us, all screaming and yelling and throwing their fists into the air to the guards who govern us. In this tiny landing in the curve of two stairwells, finally, all of us rise up against the guards in retaliation. 

“Let him go!”

“Bring him back!”

“Fuck you all, take us too!”

I hear the bunch of us erupt as my ears go deaf with adrenaline. I rush to the door, pushing my entire body weight against it to try and get through…to chase after where they had taken Paps. But it’s locked, barricaded with something heavy. 

I turn around again to the angry mob, the guards using force to hold them all back into the corner. They fight, they hit, they pull…I feel pride in the fact that maybe we aren’t all worthless in this place, after all... Watching on as we all finally stand up to them. 

But the thought is fleeting, as I watch Jake fall to the floor, blood pouring from the side of his face. I’m stunned, watching as it pools beside him. 

No…god, no. 

I rush to him, now, the mob of immunes now more infuriated than ever. There are only ten or twelve of us, all ranging in age and color and background…but they form a protective circle around Jake and I, layers of backs crowded above the two of us as I comfort Jake on the ground. 

Fearful tears are pooling in my eyes, and I feel the chaos above as I kneel beside him. They’re beating them, using force to drive through the protective wall to get to us, continuing on with trying to get to Jake. What had he done to piss them off? 

JAKE

I feel sharp pain near my temple and a dizziness overtaking my mind, but I also feel Y/N’s hand pressed tightly to my scalp and her presence beside me. I float in and out of consciousness, the noise of the chaos above me sounding more like a dull drone than individual yells. I’m being pushed and held down, but her hand never falters from trying to stop whatever blood is coming from the side of my head. I can taste metal in my mouth, and my ears are ringing so loudly that it hurts. There’s no doubt I will probably have a concussion. 

I look up at the blur above me, arms flailing, fists flying… all trying to protect me from…

Those beings. I know what they are…

They look different, though. They don’t look like the harmless hooded characters we emblazoned on the cover of our second EP, our mascots of sorts that adorned the front of so many posters and media. I remember how particular Josh was with coming up with the image of them, how cryptic he kept his descriptions. It all makes sense now… he was dreaming about the beings who exist between both realms. 

And apparently, they aren’t as nice as we had always envisioned them to be. 

Underneath their robes is a type of armor, chainmailled body suits made of heavy silver rings, all intertwined together and covering their chests like knights. Their faces can’t be seen, though I’m positive they keep them hidden under the heavy hood with a mask of sorts. They aren’t peaceful characters. What I always pictured as ancient representatives of our beloved world, our Infisonicosm, are nothing more than violent creatures who are apparently the ones sent to take drastic measures to protect the integrity of their realm. And capture my brothers and I.

It feels so out of sorts to even be thinking like this, believing what the First and Second told me about the parallel realm that we had written about. It’s ridiculous. It feels like insanity has overtaken my brain, believing in something so far-fetched that I actually want to laugh. 

…But all I want to do is run to my brothers and tell them that it is all fucking real. That Josh’s nightmares weren’t just dreams. That Danny was right all along, and nearly every single theory that was dreamt up by us alongside the ones who loved our music was, in fact, truth. 

“Jake!!!” I hear Y/N yell above the ruckus, trying her best to pull me to my feet. I’m dizzy, but I make it to my feet and stumble toward the stairs as she pulls me along, the angry mob behind me somehow holding off the creatures that haunted Josh’s nightmares. They need me. They want to hurt me, but they know I am valuable to their success. I have got to find my brothers, I have got to escape this place…

The two of us rush down the stairs, my feet carrying me quickly through the halls and dark staircases. Her hand is in mine, pulling me and keeping me on track as I stumble and bounce off the walls. “Stay with me, Jake… stay with me…” she beckons, and through my deafened ears, her voice is angelic.

My eyes stay half-closed as I run, keying in on her voice and the feeling of her hand pulling me along. I want to listen to her talk to me, I need the sound of it to keep me going… to keep me from succumbing to the dizziness. 

“Keep… Keep talking to me, Y/N,” I stammer out as we blast through another heavy metal door. I hear loud bangs and slams far behind us, and the pure fear of being caught again perpetuates my legs to keep moving. 

Suddenly I feel her hands on the sides of my head, her face so close I can feel her breath. “Jake, Jacob, look at me… open your eyes, we have got to keep running…” she pants, and the cadence of her encouragement lights a fire beneath me. “We’ve got to go, they’re chasing us…”

We take off again, the hallways seeming to become darker and darker the further along we go. I hear footsteps echoing behind us, and I know I’ve got to keep going, keep running. My heart is pounding as I try to stay alert. I know she has no idea where she’s going, but I’m just happy she is bringing me along. 

“Come on, Jake… come on…” she urges with a whisper, her hand squeezing at mine as she glances back at me every few seconds. It’s a miracle they haven’t caught up with us yet. I’m so out of breath I can hardly stand it, and the blood is dripping from the side of my head down onto my shoulder. But I hold her hand steady. 

The lights are flashing down here, and it seems as though we’ve run so far that we’ve reached a place that not many go. It’s almost too quiet, and only the sound of our heavy breathing is bouncing off the walls. We pause, looking around to gather ourselves as we take a second to breathe. 

“Are you okay?” she whispers, her hand shakily coming up to touch what I assume to be my head wound. I feel the immediate need to comfort her; the sound of the worry in her voice shoots right through my gut. 

“No, but I’m alright…” I breathe, barely hanging on to my consciousness. Thankfully, the adrenaline from running from those things has taken over and gotten me to safety. My chest is rattled and my limbs are sore, but still all I can think about is the terror that’s written all over Y/N’s face as she fights her instinct to want to assess me. “I’ll make it,” I reassure her.

“Your head, Jake, they– they hit you really hard…” her voice cracks, tears almost filling her eyes. I must look worse than I feel. The lights flash again and I suddenly notice a rumble under my feet.

“M’ okay, I prom- promise…” I stumble out, hanging on to my thoughts with everything in me. 

“Whoa,” she says, looking to the floor as she drops my hands. “What’s that?!”

The floor is vibrating, the walls around us beginning to make a loud humming noise as I start to feel uneasy again. The footsteps are still bounding toward us as we both scan around looking for another exit.

Suddenly, it’s as if the earth itself has decided to make every noise that has existed since the dawn of time- howling, cracking, lurching, growling… we both move our hands to cover our ears from the deafening sound, the shaking beneath our feet becoming more and more violent. 

It’s then that I know exactly what’s happening, another sinkhole. Right where we stand.

As the realization hits me, and the structure surrounding us begins to falter, I watch as the two creatures chasing us bound through the door we had just passed through, their arms outstretched and racing for us as we back away, hurling ourselves through the only other door that is available. 

The whole building begins to feel like it’s shaking, giving out from underneath us as I can feel the once-sturdy beams and foundation begin to give way. We have got to run. 

We race through the door, still hand in hand as we begin ascending the stairs now, trying to get out and to higher ground away from the buildings. I can’t explain the fear that’s rushing through my body; I’m not sure I’ve ever been as blatantly terrified for my own life as I am, right now. Fight or flight doesn’t even begin to compare to the fear of running from two things at once, both of them wanting to take your life for their own.

Running, bounding, skipping up stairs more quickly than I ever have before… somehow or another I’m managing, all because of the girl in front of me directing my motions, and not even thinking about leaving me behind. 

They’re on our tails, I can feel them… likely running to get to higher ground, too, at this point. The sound is still deafening in my ears as the walls begin cracking around us. We get to the top of a staircase and a bout of clarity hits me. I see one of those damned fire extinguishers hanging on the wall, an axe in the glass case with it.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!! Stop stop…” I say to her as I halt, our shoes sliding across the floor. I rip my shirt off, quickly wrapping the fabric around my hand. 

“What are you doing, Jake? We have to go!!” she yells, and I see the shadowed figures through the glass of the doors, bounding toward us. Without even thinking, I take my wrapped fist and break the glass, grabbing the axe that lies inside it. 

“Shut the doors shut the doors!” I yell at her, and she does, quickly leaning her back against them so that I can position the end of the axe through the door handles. Just as the head of the axe falls into place, the two figures hit the doors, trying as they might to pass through them. We step back, realizing our barrier is holding, and they cannot pass through it. I watch as Y/N holds both of her middle fingers up to them, and I hear their inhuman screams from the other side of the doors as they thrust their shoulders against them. 

Again we begin to run, flying up a set of stairs where I can see sunlight peeking through one of the windows. The building is shaking and moving below us, and my terror is at an all time high. Up we climb, my heart pounding as I watch her in front of me, turning to check on me every few seconds just as she had been. My heart flutters for just a split second at her concern for me, but it’s overtaken by the impending relief I feel for seeing daylight. 

“Go, Y/N! We’re almost there!” I yell, the ground below me vibrating so hard now that I nearly lose my balance and I put my shirt back on. “Run!!!” 

Finally we top the stairs and burst through the luckily unlocked door, rushing out into the cold brightness of the day. Yes, yes yes… I’ve never been happier to feel the cold rush of wind entering my lungs. My legs still carry me quickly over the now cracked concrete parking lot, around all of the old, dusty parked vehicles, and over barriers and fences as we run from the dreadful sound. I reach and grasp her hand in mine again as we hop over concrete barriers, onto what used to be the freeway.

A quick glance behind me shows me a sight I never thought I would see- the whole area we had just managed to run from, swallowed up by the earth. Fuck, Don…

I squeeze her hand as we rush again, both of us afraid that the fault line will continue to follow us. We run until we can’t anymore, until our legs are giving out on us, until we can hardly catch our breath. I finally stop, the dizziness beginning to reenter my mind as my adrenaline wears off. We’ve run about a half a mile, and we’re nearing what once was a string of stores. It’s abandoned, and shows no sign of any inhabitants. 

“Hey, are you okay?” she pants as we maneuver through the tall grasses that have grown through the parking lot. 

“I’m alright, I’ll make it…” I reassure her, watching her eyes light up when I say that I am okay. I squeeze her hand as we slow to a walk, feeling now that we might be safe.

We make our way to one of the old store fronts, what looks to be a convenience store. The windows are bashed out, and it has been looted, but I also notice something else on the cement below the door- fresh drops of blood. 

“Hey, Y/N,” I whisper, motioning to it. She looks to me as we both try and catch our breath, her brows furrowing in just as much confusion that’s probably written on my face too. I take the lead, the dizziness beginning to dissipate a little as I catch my breath, and my body calms. “Shh,” I motion with my finger over my lips, walking us through the old window as I follow the blood trail. 

We’re careful as we step over the glass shards and destroyed shelves, looking around to see if we could see anyone. Half of me thinks this is a horrible idea, and the other half wants to see if there is an injured individual who is hiding away, just as we are. I grab a pocketknife that once sat for sale on the shelf, wielding the blade in preparation.

There’s barely a breeze that floats through the old store, but I watch as the blood drops get smaller and smaller. They lead us to a door of what used to be the office of the manager of the store. Again, I hold my finger to my lips as I prepare to open it. This is such a bad idea…

My hand is shaking as I reach for the knob, second-guessing my decision with every ticking second. But Y/N doesn’t stop me, she must also know that any living thing we come in contact with is valuable, at this point. I grip the old gold knob and twist, my heart thrumming in my chest as I mentally prepare myself to fight. 

I shove the door open, and what I lay my eyes upon almost took all the breath from my lungs. 

“Sam?!”

“Oh my god, Jake!” He lurches toward me as I drop the knife to the ground, and the arms of my brother finally wrap around me in an unbelievably welcome embrace. 

Tears immediately fall from my eyes as we hold each other, and I can no longer feel the throbbing pain in my temple. “Is this real? Are you real?” I cry out, pounding my fist into his back in disbelief. 

“Yea, yea, I’m here!” Sam cries. “Fuck how did you–”

We pull away, meeting eyes as we fight to believe it. “There was another sink hole, we–we just managed to get out… we barely made it,” I explain, feeling out of breath again. “God, what– why are you here!? How did we find you?”

“We ran, we ran too! I used to come to this store sometimes, I dunno, it’s just where I ended up running to, then I was breaking the glass to get in and I sliced my hand open…” he says, running his hand along his dripping nose. “I heard you coming and we ran to hide…”

“We? Who’s we?!” I ask, looking around for someone else. 

“Jake? What the fuck?!” 

I turn to the voice behind me, recognizing it right off the bat as Daniel. I run to him, too, extending my arms around his torso as we embrace. “Oh my god…” he wails. “We didn’t think we’d find you, why are you here? How did you find us?!”

“Me and Y/N, we just ran…” I say, stepping back to look at her. She’s standing with her arms crossed, tears filling her eyes. “What’s wrong, are you okay?”

It only then hit me that she is watching the three of us reconvene, up close and personal. She looks like she’s in shock. 

“Yeah, I just…wow I never, I’m so glad you’re all okay…” she says through a thick smile. 

Immediately, Sam is walking to her through the pillaged rubble of the store. “Hey, I’m Sam, I’d shake your hand but, kinda bloody,” he says, extending his left hand instead. She sweetly takes it, her cheeks turning the brightest shade of pink.

“She knows who you are, Sam. She uh, followed us for years,” I explain. 

Sam glances at me with wide eyes. “No! You’re kidding!” 

I notice her cower back in shyness. “Yeah, sure did. Since uhm, since Strange Horizons,” she giggles. “All the way up until…”

The three of us stare at her as she collects her emotions. “I had tickets to the first show you had to cancel. Kind of uh, ironic, now…”

“Yeah, that one was a bit out of our hands,” Sam grunts through a laugh. I take notice of how long his beard has gotten, making me run my hand over my own rough, scruffy face. I haven’t even looked in a mirror in weeks.

“How in the hell did you two link up?” Danny interrupts my thoughts. 

“They had us in the same group, she and her grandfather,” I say, looking at her again. Her eyes hold mine for only a few seconds, fear and terror and sadness washing over her. She turns away as it looks as though she’s embarrassed for us to see her upset. 

I go to her as she turns, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, he probably made it out, they wouldn’t have just left him…he’s a strong and able bodied man, he—he’s probably rushing around trying to find you, right now,” I try to console her. 

“No he isn’t, Jake, you saw what happened to that building! There’s no way he made it!” she whisper-cries, covering her mouth. 

“Hey you don’t know that, Y/N. Those…things may have taken them with them when they ran. They know he was valuable. For all we know they got him out safely, you can’t think like that…” I say, and she bites her lips in trying to hold back her sobs. She holds herself as I hear Danny and Sam trying to make themselves invisible with pointless tasks behind us. She looks absolutely distraught. 

So I do the first thing that pops into my head, I take her into my best comforting embrace. “It’s alright, it’s okay to freak out for a second, if you need to…” I say. 

Her forehead rests on my shoulder as I feel her let it all go, her fear and sadness and worry that she’s been holding in for her grandfather. I can’t even imagine what she’s feeling right now. “Shh, it’s alright. We’ll find him, Y/N, I promise. We will find him.”

My promise holds less weight than I make it sound, but anything I can muster to try and qualm her sobs and calm her thoughts. I know how she feels, at least, being ripped apart from your family and forced into this terror. She relaxes into me for a short-lived few seconds, but as soon as she does, it’s as if the world around us disappears. I haven’t felt another human’s touch like this in weeks… the last time I really felt this connection was one morning before we left for the cabins, when my mom decided to break down on me a little, and I consoled her cries in the kitchen. 

It’s strange really, what the lack of that human connection can do to your psyche. You don’t really ever realize how much we thrive off of it, how much the chemicals in our brains rely on that rush of endorphins to keep us intact. I’ve missed it, I’ve missed a lot, honestly, but you don’t have time to think about your physical needs when you’re trying to survive. So I let her fall into me, and I into her, her hands gripping into the back of my shirt as her sobs shake her chest. I allow myself to squeeze her shoulders under mine, and rest my chin on top of her head, feeling more relaxed than I have in months. This feels…

“I’m sorry,” she says as she quickly pulls away and wipes her eyes. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be—“

“No no, it’s okay, don’t worry,” I say, the disconnection from her feeling more intense than I thought it would. Like my second of euphoria was snapped in half, right before the comedown. She dries it up quickly as she hides her face from me, and I decide to give her a second. I still feel a strange tingle shooting its way through my body, and I know for a fact just that small act of comfort will have me craving more later. 

“Jake, have you seen Josh anywhere? Heard from anyone else?” Sam says as he walks my way. 

I shake my head. “No, but I have some um, information…that I think could help us find everyone. But it isn’t the best,” I choke out as I watch their brows furrow. 

“What do you mean?” Danny asks, glancing back over to where Y/N is trying to collect herself.

I take a deep breath as I grab ahold of the old countertop beside me, still worn from years of use. My knuckles are red and busted, and my fingers look more frail than they have in my entire life. 

I’m honestly not even sure where to start with this…

“Daniel, before they took us, before everyone got separated, those thoughts you were having, those suspicions about our lyrics and our world…they’re um. They’re very, extremely real,” I try and begin to explain. “Unfortunately, I think… I think we’re in for a lot worse than we realize…”

"Wait, what? What do you mean they're real?" he asks, stepping toward me.

I take a short, chopped breath. "It exists, guys. That world we created, that we built from Josh's crazy fucking thoughts... We didn't invent it, it's real. It's in another realm that exists alongside ours. Josh um, Josh dreamt about it, for years. Everything he dreamed, he passed along into our music, visually, and conceptually. He was dreaming about it because it's not fictional. It's totally and completely a place that lives and breathes, just like we do."

It’s then that the four of us freeze, hearing loud footsteps trudging across the gravel-covered pavement in the lot outside. Three sets, at least. 

“Fuck,” Danny whispers as we all jump straight into panic again, rushing toward the back of the building to find a back door. 

We bust through, rushing to the heavily-wooded area behind the line of stores, straight to the unknown.

Again. Running…

Fear and anxiety grip me again as we rush up the hill, briars and sticks catching against my skin. Daniel and Sam are ahead of me as we scale up the steep incline, darting straight for any type of coverage we can find. I look back, realizing that it’s now my turn to find Y/N’s hand, and pull her along. 

No longer is my head throbbing, no longer is the dizziness wracking through my psyche. I’m not sure what switched, only fifteen minutes ago I was passing out as she pulled me through the hallways to safety, but here, now… I feel more clarity than ever. 

I find her hand, still damp from wiping her own tears, and I pull her to my side, giving her hand a tight squeeze as we run. We finally top the incline into a field full of trash and old machinery, abandoned vehicles and an old shed in the corner. The trees tower high above us, and I’m thankful that they had provided us with high boots as they held us in that damned building. We quickly trudge through the thick grass, and it dawns on me then how much nature has already begun to take over. How tall the bushes are, how much foliage grows on the trees.

It hits me then– it’s supposed to be winter… Why is everything so green?

I shake the disorienting thought from my head as I follow behind Danny and Sam, a quick and agile Y/N keeping right up with us. Darkness is about to fall, but my brothers and I are resourceful. Suddenly a brand new journey is awaiting us, a manhunt for the ages as our main concern is now finding Paps, and finding the rest of my family. 

As we run, I dig deep for gumption, for something steadfast to hold onto so that we can keep going. So we can work together to get through this, one step at a time. Our road ahead is going to be one of the most difficult we’ve navigated yet, but now I’ve got a team behind me. And though my other half is missing, I’ve got more drive than ever to find him, and stop them from taking us for our knowledge and twisting it for what we thought was imaginary, and using it to their own agenda.

I won’t be able to save the world, but damned if I’m not gonna try. 

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