#you can’t just BLOWTORCH THE OUTSIDE FOR A FEW SECONDS

[tvnacity]

watching paul hollywood explain what a s’more should be made me want to die

[rileysluvr]

something really short cause i have nothing else. könig nsfw

just imagine a situation where you’re forced to sit on könig’s lap because there’s less room than needed on the small military aircraft due to a field emergency, so you opt for his space because he’s the closest person to you out of the bunch and not to mention the largest, kindest, most comfortable looking one. he’s so hesitant at first but it’s all kept internal because he could never say no to you, let alone stand to watch you on another man’s lap for the next two hours. he begins to question if he prioritized the correct things, however, when he ultimately fails at suppressing his hard-on after just barely managing for the first half hour of the flight.

you feel his dick practically digging into your ass through the multiple layers of cargo pants, and he knows his prayers for discretion have gone unanswered when you adjust your hips against his lap. the feel of it surprises you—you want to laugh, why now?—but the entire concept of it does not come as a shock; it only nourishes the given cockiness in you. you’d have to be a blind mutt not to notice the way he looks at you, shying away when he thinks you’ve caught him staring. silly guy. the hood doesn’t hide all, könig.

“scheiße, du schweinehund,” he breathes defeatedly to himself, eyes squeezed shut in humility. he’s the only mutt here, really. he can’t imagine how pink his cheeks have gone, except for the fact that they feel like they’ve been repeatedly grazed by a blowtorch you hold. he musters up a straight voice, yet his words just barely break past a whisper; “…forgive me.” he grits his teeth and bites his tongue, “gott—i am not in the correct headspace right now, i-i am so sorry.”

you giggle that same laugh that had his knees threatening to buckle in on most days. “it’s okay, könig, really,” you tell him, so convincing and so sweet that he has no choice but to believe it to be true. still, he’s beyond mortified. you hum after a few seconds, “more than okay.” he sucks in a sharp breath. you don’t need to see him to know what sort of affect you’re having on him, arms crossed over your chest while his are unsteady and sweaty at his sides. he’s so awkward, it’s adorable.

like this, you can truly absorb all of him like you never could on an average day; he’s soft spoken off the field and with a deeper drawl, and far more reserved. that manly, post-mission musk of his, apparent through the close proximity, is only insanely attractive. and he’s just so. fucking. big. you lean further back against his frame, head resting on his broad shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating at his ribs against your upper back. with everyone else chatting amongst themselves or already deep into their sleep, you wouldn’t mind teasing him a bit.

“i actually think it’s really cute,” you add, with another slight of a giggle, of course. “and hot.” you bite and bite and he groans so lowly every time, something almost of a broken whimper, you’d say. you wiggle your hips a bit, not terribly noticeable to the outside world but he swears your every action comes with a bite of an aphrodisiac. you smirk and he hears it, right past the nonchalance in your voice; “and quite impressive, i’d say.”

you hear a whine die in his throat—it’s fucking whorish, and needy—along with another swear, and in an instant, you’ve made up your mind to take him out of the public eye once you land and show him just how impressive he really is.

[lovelymel]

❛ 𝓝ext 𝓓oor ❜

joe “coop” cooper x fem!reader x doug remer

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n :: I LOVE BASEKETBALL i literally have watched it so many times + im a coop girl 🤭

warnings :: swearing, coop n remer being coop n remer

✧ ✧ ✧

ever since you moved into a cheap little neighborhood in milwaukee, you’ve found yourself concerned with your next door neighbors. just two twenty-something year olds with nothing to do apparently, as signaled by the fact that all they appeared to do was shoot hoops in their driveway and cause a racket with their pets.

although they admittedly dressed like bums, you had a thing for them. how could you not? there was something about them.

despite their good looks, you could not stand the noise they made. their dog growled whenever you walked past their house, the cat hissed and mewled throughout the day, and you could even hear crude jokes from the thin walls of the cheaply built houses.

on one particular summer evening, you decided you had enough of their ruckus as you heard non-stop blowtorch noises.

what are they doing?! you frowned, slipping on your shoes and stomping over to the house next door.

ding dong.

you stood at their door, tapping your foot and crossing your arms. whoever was in there took their sweet time coming to the door. it felt like you had waited there for hours.

finally, a blond opened the door, sporting goggles covering his eyes and a blowtorch in his hand, “oh, hey, we’ve never actually talked before, miss…?”

“y/n l/n. i just wanted to know what you’re doing.”

“joe cooper, “coop”, and uh, just some building.” he says, quickly taking off the goggles and tossing the torch to the side.

you just nod, “ehm, well could you please keep it down? i have work to do.”

“oh, yeah, sure,” coop said, “i never really see you that often. what do you do?”

“i’m looking for a job still…” you sheepishly reply.

coop gives you a tiny smile, “i’m sure you’ll find a job! it can’t be that hard.”

“well, what do you do?”

“i don’t actually have a job either…”

steps from another person were starting to get louder. you could hear another man yapping at coop, who was obviously very embarrassed. his face was dusted with a light pink.

“coop, man! you gotta start cleaning the hairs off the soap bar! and what happened to the la-z-boy? what happened to my baby???”

coop closed the door a bit, “would you excuse me for a sec?”

despite him closing the door, you could hear both guys shouting.

“shut the hell up!”

“you’re the one who decked the la-z-boy!”

“there’s a chick outside!”

a few seconds later, a man with curly hair and a set of glasses opened the door, “hi miss l/n, we’re really sorry for the disturbance. if there’s anything i could do—”

“—we could do.” coop butted in.

you looked down, tapping your foot on their porch, before glancing back up. god, they were attractive. “it would just be great if you guys could keep it down.”

you were turned, facing your house. before you stepped past their driveway, coop called after you.

“hey! you said you needed a job right?”

“uh, yeah… why?”

remer piped up, “we’re making this new sport, and if you want we could pay you to be a cheerleader to promote it. you’d be great.”

“y-yeah. you’d be perfect.” coop chirped.

you grinned at them, noticing how rosy their cheeks were. you told them you would sleep on it before making your way back to your house. it honestly didn’t seem like such a terrible idea…

[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost & Found

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: *long sigh* finally. This story has been haunting me for months now. I was so tempted to just go crazy and start uploading it because I love it so much. But If I’m uploading this, it means that we’ve made it to the promised day! Yay! You guys, I think this may be one of my favorites. Which, if we’re being honest, all of my works are my favorites. But this is everything.

That is all. Please read and enjoy. Let me know your thoughts, I’d be overjoyed to hear from you.

Chapter 1. Unbreakable Bond

It was easier than I thought it would be; breaking the bond. Perhaps I was just desperate enough. Practically begging on my knees as I stood outside the dingy apartment building, knowing that this was irreversible.

Wanting it to be irreversible.

The woman’s name is Christina, and she gives me a wary look as she explains the cutting process. Her own severed thread is a testament to her underground business. I trust her.

“I need you to be absolutely positive about this,” she warns. “There's no going back once I cut the thread. It will be nearly impossible to find your soulmate.”

That’s the least of my problems. I know that it’ll be all too easy to check in on the whereabouts of my soulmate; after all, he rarely goes anywhere without it being broadcasted to the entire world.

“Burn it.”

Warning me about the impending heat as she pulls out a blowtorch, I hear her sigh. Christina gathers up my thread and places it delicately atop a metal slab. 

The little warehouse attached to her apartment offers little distraction; there are a few scattered tools laying about and nothing else but dull gray walls. In a time like this, a distraction would be nice.

“Do you ever regret it?” I ask, an uneasy turn of my stomach pushing the question out. Christina pulls her faceguard down, gesturing for me to look the opposite way. My shadow takes up the entire wall as she fires up the blowtorch.

“Me?” I can feel the heat of the fire, but I refuse to flinch. “Not really. But I do feel a bit bad for my soulmate.”

I frown at the gray wall. “Why?”

Christina shifts to get a more direct angle on the thin red thread that hangs from my finger and extends to disappear under the door. “You’re not the only one who is about to lose a soulmate today. At least it’s your decision.”

Staring at the unforgiving gray wall, I have plenty of time to mull over her response. However, the second I begin to worry or feel sorry for my soulmate, I remember the sweaty palms and crippling anxiety from earlier.  

As Christina takes a step back after nearly thirty minutes, turning the blowtorch off, I turn to assess the damage. Frowning at the still intact thread, Christina snorts.

“Don’t move.”

She takes a lofty hammer in her hands, bringing it down hard on the thread. I gasp as sparks fly into the air, my thread tightening around my finger and pulling. Grabbing my hand, I struggled to remain upright on the stool.

“We’re almost there!” Christina huffs, bringing the hammer down again and again. Sparks continue to fly, one landing on my shoulder and burning a small hole in my shirt. My hiss of pain is cut short as the pressure on my finger suddenly loosens, nearly causing me to fly backward since I was straining against it.

My breath comes up short as Christina removes the hammer from atop the thread, and I see what happened.

The formerly vivid red hue fades to a dull color, almost a brown-red like dried blood. I watch as the frayed ends begin to retreat, one end slipping off the table and disappearing under the door.

I push off the stool, ripping the door open just in time to see the red thread glinting under the moonlight, drifting away on a breeze. Retreating to its other half.

Glancing down at my hand, I hold up my finger where the other frayed end stops just a few centimeters away from the base of my finger.

“Yeah, it’ll stay like that,” Christina says as she comes to stand beside me. “Unless you want me to burn your finger off…?”

I give her a dry chuckle. “No, thanks. It’s alright like this.” I tilt my head, marveling at the fact that I’m looking out into the world without my thread obscuring my view. “So...will his thread just disappear?”

Christina shakes her head. “Your threads, while cut, still mirror each other. So his will look like yours in a few minutes when it catches up to him.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

She invites me back inside, offering me a salve for my aching shoulder that was burned, frowning as she tells me that it will most likely scar.

“I’ll just consider it a souvenir,” I mumble. Christina laughs.

“That’s the spirit.” She passes me a mug of apple cider, sitting across from me at the same metal slab she calls a table where my thread was severed. “So, do you know who your soulmate is, then? Is that why?”

I take a long sip of the cider, my mind instantly replaying the scene from hours earlier. “I know who he is. Although, I wouldn’t say that I cut it because of who he is. He’s a great guy, actually. Top notch.”

Christina raises her brows at me. “Really? What makes you say that?”

I pause to look at my frayed thread, the string of fate loved by the world over. The thread that I always thought would bring me joy beyond belief, but made me realize that it would be better to let go.

For him.

“Do you know BTS?”

Christina sets her mug down with a loud bang. “Do I - of course I know who they are. Why?” Her expression turns to horror. “Why?”

I wince, taking another sip of my cider. Holding my hand up to display my severed thread, I wiggle my finger. “Park Jimin.”

✂

Jimin is in the middle of his dinner when he feels a sharp tug on his red thread. Chuckling at it, he holds his hand up for the thousands of fans watching his live to see.

“My soulmate is acting up, I think.” He watches as the comments flood in, most everyone mourning the fact that they are not his soulmate. A few people tease him about it being them on the other side of the thread, and while he knows that they’re simply joking with him, he can’t help the increase in his heart rate.

If only.

The thread tightens around his finger, making him hiss in pain. “Ouch,” he mutters, pulling back against the thread in order to sit still. “Sorry, everyone. What were we talking about? Oh, right. The concert today -”

Jimin whines as the thread pulls even harder, nearly causing him to spill his drink. Pulling back as hard as he can, he gives the camera an apologetic smile.

Then, his eyes widen as an idea strikes him. “Do you think I should follow it?” He asks excitedly. He hasn’t ever heard about people’s threads pulling them in the direction of their soulmate when they’re not even in the same room, but maybe she’s here, staying at the same hotel-

“I’ve gotta go!” Jimin shouts, blowing a kiss with his free hand before promising to visit everyone again soon. “Thanks guys!” Ending the live, Jimin shoots out of his chair, barely remembering to grab his room key before bursting out of his room and into the hallway.

Following the pull of the thread, he grins as he follows it to the elevator. Punching the button as hard as he can, he jumps from one foot to another as he waits for the doors to open.

“C’mon, c- bingo!” Sliding into the elevator with a gleeful shriek, he ponders for a moment before deciding to hit the ground floor.

Jimin’s cheeks are red with excitement by the time he reaches the lobby of the hotel, not even noticing when a couple of the bodyguards that escorted them to the concert venue today see him and immediately start following him.

“Mr. Park!” One of them calls. “Mr. Park! You can’t just leave without some form of security!”

Jimin hardly spares him a glance as he bolts for the exit where his thread continues to pull him. “Then follow me!”

The bodyguards chase after him into the night, exchanging concerned glances as Jimin follows after his thread like a convict on the run.

They nearly tackle him as they round a corner he just turned a few seconds prior, stumbling to a stop as they see Jimin standing still in the middle of the empty road.

“Mr. Park,” one of them pants. “Where are you going?”

Jimin stays completely still, the sudden lack of tension from his thread causing his heart to stop. Glancing down at where it’s wrapped around his finger, he feels the exact moment his heart stumbles to a stop.

Floating on a breeze, he sees the other end of his thread. Skimming along the ground like a plastic bag tossed about by the wind.

“What is it?” Jimin breathes out, the question leaving his lips without his consent. “What is it?”

There’s a chill that settles over him as the thread comes closer and closer, making Jimin retreat almost as though he could stop it from reaching him.

“No!” He yells, taking another step back as the end of the thread now arrives at his foot. “No! Not like this!”

The bodyguards watch on with disbelief as the thread works its way up to Jimin’s hand, slowing to a stop just below his finger. They’re continually glancing down at their own threads, making sure that they aren’t about to stumble upon the same ugly fate.

But it’s just Jimin with the cut thread. It’s just Jimin, who falls to his knees with a dull thump. Staring down at the thread, raising his shaking hand and grasping the frayed edge.

“Are they…?” One young bodyguard asks. His senior shakes his head.

“No. The thread turns gray when they die, remember?”

“Then what happened?” He asks again, eyes wide.

His senior sighs heavily, heart breaking at the sight he’s only ever heard stories about. “They must have found someone to cut it.”

The young bodyguard gasps. “Cut it? Is that even possible?”

Jimin’s sobs answer the question for him, the sound echoing off the buildings. One by one, lights turn on in the surrounding apartment buildings as people wonder what the commotion is all about.

Jumping into action, the bodyguards swarm Jimin, picking him up and supporting him between the two of them. Jimin’s body is weak and limp as he shouts and sobs.

“C-come back to me.”

next

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masterlist

taglist: @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @onewoneman @moon-write​ @marianeamine​ @missseoulite​ @preciouschimine​

[mercurial-madhouse]

@oldbay-on-apples asked, I wish you would write a fic where characters of your choice are spies and trying to escape a facility with the blueprints they need!

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

See my point of view (As someone staring back at you)

“We’re in, Haz.” 

Louis’s voice transmits through his earpiece. The tech relies on sound vibrations, picking up the resonance of Louis’s vocal cords so that, even though they can all hear him clearly, on Louis’s end his words are below a whisper. 

“Surprisingly, I can see that.” Harry scans the multiple video feeds on the screen before him. Louis, Picklock, top left; Niall, Ammunition, bottom left; Liam, Data Encryption, bottom right. 

Top right: blank. Where his feed should be. 

Louis’s face pops into Liam’s camera long enough for him to wiggle his eyebrows. All black looks so damn good on him. “How’m I supposed to know you weren’t mid-kip, old man?”

Harry tears his gaze away from Louis before his attention is compromised. Louis’s only two years older than he is and he’s been arse over tit for the footie player-turned-spy since they met years ago. But feelings cloud judgement, a potentially fatal threat too dangerous to dare in their line of work. He eyes the silver-tipped black cane leaning against the table next to him.

Current mobility status: severely limited.

“Promised Payno he wouldn’t have to babysit you alone,” he mutters without missing a beat.

Louis screws his features up then disappears from Liam’s screen, clearly shoved aside. Light glints off the camera implanted in the thin film of the eye-contact he’s wearing that’s allowing Harry to see their views. The nanotech Liam used to create it and their earpieces is too valuable to risk discovery by foreign governments. Any indication of compromise they must destroy the only lifeline Harry has to them.

Frustration tenses his muscles and tweaks the bulging disc between vertebrae L4 and L5. A lance of pain shoots up his spine. He raps a button on the keyboard. A fourth feed appears, the hijacked surveillance camera on the front gate with views of the Russian security guard manning the video booth.

Niall’s already detached from the other two. He oversees the perimeter. In complete silence he’s setting up remote-controlled explosives, the failsafe to create chaos should the other two need help during the extraction. Liam and Louis are silent. Harry watches like a video game without a controller as they scale the rear wall and infiltrate the building through the massive heating duct. 

As rogue operatives, their only link back to MI6 is a non-existent papertrail: an agent simply known as Z (probably because Q was already taken). The most dangerous jobs go to them, the ones MI6 can’t chance having connected back to the British government if the four of them are compromised on a mission.

If the window of opportunity to sneak into the Kremlin for a specific set of blueprints only known as TMH-11 weren’t closing fast, they might have waited for Harry to heal. All it’d taken was an unfortunate twist on their last mission in Bulgaria and he’d slipped a disc. He’s certain a gunshot to the back would be less painful. Louis had barely kept him on his feet to get to safety.

The silver world surrounding Louis and Liam steadies. For a few seconds Harry can see them both as they look at each other.

Liam glances at his watch. He’s spent months logging the patrols for the building and knows the timing by memory. 

“Six minutes, Tommo. No more.”

Louis nods. A breath, then they lift the ceiling grate aside. Liam finds leverage, planting his feet, gloved hands tight around the rope as Louis hovers towards the ground. The red laser lines criss-crossing the entire area as thin as trip-wires. 

Harry releases a breath when Louis’s feet touch down soundlessly, just before the tiny metal boxes all stacked like mailroom slots at a post office. The grid’s so small Louis’s got to keep his knees locked together. Even then, barely a centimetre separates him from discovery.

He works efficiently on the lock for box TMH-11, tools so tiny they make his slim fingers look even more slender. The miniscule flame of the blowtorch matches the alarm lasers in width. 

“Two minutes, eight seconds,” Liam says, tone even.

Plenty of time.

Louis is silent. He doesn’t answer when he’s concentrating. All of them know he’s heard.

The flame flares once. Louis cuts it off, pocketing the tools. He eases the door open, peering inside.

Motion on the screen catches Harry’s attention. The security guard’s feet have landed flat, squinting at the video monitor in front of him. His hand hovers over a call button, lips moving.

“Possible indeterminate error,” Harry warns. “Lou, get out now.”

Louis slides a cylinder from the box. At least a metre long, he slips it up to Liam.

“I’ve got movement,” Niall reports.

“Tommo, now,” Liam hisses.

Louis clicks the box closed. There’s no time to get the lock back into place. Footsteps fuzz through Liam and Louis’s earpieces. Pain surges through Harry’s back as he lurches forward, staring at Louis’s feed. Louis’s gaze whips over his shoulder towards the closed door of the vault.

“Lou, get out!”

Liam appears on Louis’s screen. Louis’s silent, but whatever he says to Liam with a look has Liam shaking his head.

Harry’s seen this too many times in his nightmares. They know their orders. They know what’s most important. “Lou, you still have time. Go.”

“Get that cache to Niall,” Louis whispers. He detaches the line from his back.

“Lou!” Harry shouts, in time with Liam. “Niall, code one. On my command.”

“Copy this.”

“Payno, go.” In Louis’s feed, Liam looks too far away. It’s not the distance that’s the enemy, it’s getting Louis through the grid without tripping the alarm. It’s precision that can’t be done quickly. The moment they trip the alarm the whole building goes on lockdown, cutting Liam off too.

Liam curses. Louis’s face vanishes in his screen, replaced by the cord Liam’s hauling up, then the descent of darkness as he closes the vent.

Heart racing, Harry splits his attention between Liam and Louis, anxiously tracking Liam’s progress back through the building. Louis doesn’t move except to press his forehead against the wall of metal, completely still. He can’t risk alerting the guards or sounding the alarm before Liam’s far enough out.

“Lou, he’s on the roof.” Harry doesn’t need to whisper, but his voice comes out soft anyway. “It’s only four metres to the door.”

If anyone can get out, it’s Louis. He’s as expert at slipping through tight spaces as he is at picking every lock. Harry refuses to believe he can’t find a way through these.

Louis pushes out a slow breath, loud enough for Harry to hear through the wire. “I won’t make it, Haz. You know I can’t risk it.”

Fuck. Fuck. This possibility isn’t a surprise. They’ve got hundreds of contingency plans and this one is no different. Once Liam successfully drops the cache with Niall, he’ll go back for Louis. 

“Payno, report.”

“Three minutes.”

Three minutes to get to Niall and back. A dangerous gamble.

“Think you could go a mite faster there, Payno?” Louis mutters, voice light despite the tightness.

Another man has joined the security guard. They’re pointing at one of the feeds. Harry’s heart thuds as dread washes over him, pulse pumping in his jugular. 

“Damnit, I should be—”

“Right where the fuck you are,” Louis cuts him off, an edge to his words. They soften. Something indescribable leaks into his tone and slicks Harry’s palms with sweat. “Right where you need to be, Haz.”

“I need to be with you.” The words are out before Harry can stop them, but it’s the truth. If Harry were there this wouldn’t be an issue. He should be getting Louis out while Liam runs the line. They operate in pairs for a reason.

Louis hasn’t moved at all. His control is impressive. Off the clock he’s all manic energy. On a job every move he makes is precise and carefully thought out. None of them could possibly fill his role.

“One minute,” Liam reports. He’s scaling to the roof.

Footsteps echo through the corridor behind Louis. Russian voices, too far for the mic to pick up, so the internal translator won’t work. They stop outside the door. The bleeps of a keypad.

A torpedo of terror surges into Harry’s chest and ruptures.

“Hazza—”

“Niall, now! Liam, go!”

“Haz, I’m sorry... I’m in love with you.”

Niall’s explosives detonate. Louis’s feed goes dark. Harry’s heart gets caught in the blast.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*< 

(Ok, I tried so hard to make this a drabble of 500 words. Then 1k. It wasn’t meant to be. This is the story the characters told me. I hope it fits the bill, love! I do enjoy me some spy AUs even though this is my first to write! Love my action and adventure!)

Have something else you’d like to see me write? Go wild! Pairing, situation, feeling… Send me an ask (anon or not) completing the sentence ‘I wish you’d write a fic where…’

Superpowers Drabble

Invisible Drabble

Only one bed (H-POV)

Only one bed (L-POV)

ABO new-omega!Louis drabble that became a fic on AO3.

[loversdelusion]

Days Scattered

Deacon St. John x St. John!Reader

Part 2 of 3

previous- next

Deacon spent the next day orchestrating a plan of rescue, much to his own dismay, Rikki convinced him that he couldn't go in blindly shooting or both of them might not come back, Deacon was deep in thought, his mind constantly racing over what was happening to you.

(Y/n) groaned in pain, her head and wrists were aching, she didn't know why they were aching but she got her answer when she opened her eyes to her wrists being strung up to two thick branches, she was in a candlelit room, words were crudely written on the wall in blood, sharp dead branches littered the room, she assumed it was the Ripper's definition of decoration.

"Shit.." She rolled her head, doing her best to stretch her neck muscles, (Y/n) lazily tugged against the bindings, seeing how secure they were, seeing they were tied pretty firmly against her, she still kept tugging, despite the burning sensation of the ropes digging into her wrists "Dammit!" She exclaimed in frustration, sighing heavily as nothing was happening.

The sound of approaching footsteps sent her alertness to 11, her eyes darting to the door across from her, the door slowly opened, it's hinges creaking steadily, a Ripper was in the doorway, this one seemed different than the others, held a more powerful aura. "Carlos.." She said, weakly as she came to the realization of who this was, Carlos let out a small smirk "Mongrel Princess, when the group I sent out told me they were successful in catching a Mongrel, I never expected it to be you.." Carlos took slow but calculated steps to where she was bound.

Carlos stood two steps in front of her "Oh my, should've told them to be gentle, I would have if I knew I was dealing with precious cargo" Carlos leaned closer, (Y/n) could see his numerous cuts more clearly, she leaned back as far as she could.

"The little St. John" Carlos declared, almost proudly, (Y/n)'s gaze hardened, she looked to be thinking hard, her face contorted into a look of shock "Jessie.." She muttered quietly, Carlos barely picked it up "Jessie Willamson.." Carlos pulled away, sighing lowly "That is not my name, not anymore, I soon won't have a name at all, we renounce our names to rid of our pain" he stated "As do all Ripper's".

"Deacon had a hand in torching your Mongrel tattoo off after you murdered someone in the MC over drugs..I was there, I watched them drag you into the old safehouse, Deacon told me to stay in Jack's car and to turn on the radio while they dealt with you" (Y/n)'s gaze darted at Carlos. "I came out of the car after awhile, Deacon came out of the safehouse and from the second he opened the door, I smelled burnt flesh and I saw your body on the table, bloody and torched, thought you were dead but guess I was wrong" Carlos let out a breathless chuckle. "I have found the path, and soon you, your brother and Boozer..will be forcefully put on the path, as for you..you will be my wife" Carlos sneered, leaning closer to her, she could almost feel his breath on her face "Fuck off, I'm not marrying you" she replied, kicking him in the thigh, Carlos let out a low growl "But first, you must be cleansed" Carlos eyed her left arm which was covered by her shirt, he looked away and down next to her, he picked up a blowtorch.

(Y/n)'s eyes widened at what he was about to do "You touch me with that and I will shove that so far up your ass, you'll turn into a dragon" she tensed against the binds as he lit the torch, it's ominous blue glow lighting the small distance between Carlos and (Y/n)'s facial features. "Princess, you must be cleansed as I have" Carlos held a dangerous look in his eyes, he grabbed a knife, cutting through her shirt's sleeve with ease, he ripped it off once the fabric was thin enough, he exposed her inked skin to his insane stare, (Y/n)'s arm was tattooed with a whole sleeve that reached from her shoulder and down to the back of her hand "My, my..your whole arm is tainted, that's not good" he tutted, bringing the torch back up again.

Sweat was rolling down her face in beads, her chest heaving heavily, Carlos brought the blowtorch closer to her arm, she began to feel the white hot heat of it, nearing closer and closer with every second "You'll pay for what Deacon did" Carlos muttered lowly, (Y/n)'s whole body jolted and tensed at the feeling of the hot flame torching her tattoo off, she screamed, gritting her teeth together tightly, tears welled up in her pained (e/c) eyes.

Carlos brought the torch away, admiring the small patch of melted skin on her shoulder, the smell of burned skin wafted in the air, (Y/n) almost gagged at the scent, Carlos said nothing as he brought the torch back to her skin, burning another patch of her tattoo off, she yelped, thrashing wildly against the ropes, trying desperately to back away from the crazed Ripper, the pain was unbearable and she begged to God that she would black out already. Her head lulled forward, the pain from being tortured mentally and physically exhausted her "No, no, Princess, you stay with me" Carlos patted at her tear-stained cheek, Carlos roughly gripped at her chin, pulling her face to look at her arm.

(Y/n)'s jaw clenched at the sight, more hot tears trailing down her face, it was burned up to the middle of her bicep, words refused to be spoken at the sight of her arm, the top layer of her skin was completely gone, she could just see black charred, bloodied patches of the tissue underneath, it was a stark difference compared to the rest of her untouched arm "Don't worry, Princess..I'll cherish you regardless" Carlos was pressing his face into her hair, inhaling heavily at her scent, but she ignored it, too traumatized at her injury to fight back anymore.

-

Deacon made it into the Ripper's camp, Boozer right behind him on his bike "You remember the plan?" Deacon spoke in a loud voice over the roar of the engine "Yeah, blow the dam, drown the rats, kill Carlos and save (Y/n)" Boozer replied, Deacon didn't acknowledge it, keeping his attention forward on the road. They approached the dam "You know how to do this, right?" Deacon asked, raising a dark brow at the one handed man beside him, Boozer shook his head with a chuckle "Easy as riding a bike" Deacon rolled his eyes "Are you sure? I mean, I know how to do this, I was in the army for God's sake" Boozer shook his head again "I got this, brother, just watch my back".

Deacon guarded Boozer as best as he could, keeping the Ripper's that attacked off of him, Boozer was on the last charge "You sure this is gonna work?" Boozer asked over the walkie talkie "You doubting my plan?" Deacon replied, a teasing lilt in his voice "It's..it's a lot of water, it'll get 'em" Deacon said "If you believe it, I will too" Boozer said, a few seconds later. Boozer approached the last detonation site, Deacon sniping the Ripper's that attacked with ease "How's it going, Boozeman?" Deacon asked, a wary tone in his voice "Hey, it's not easy with one hand" Boozer replied "Just hurry it up" Boozer rolled his eyes "I got it!" Boozer started into a dead sprint, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the dam "Get the hell out of there, Boozer!" Deacon yelled, waiting for his friend to catch up.

The explosives went off, sending a shockwave and tremors through the surrounding area, the blast knocked Deacon and Boozer on their asses "Christ!" Deacon shouted as he covered his face to protect it from the brief blast of heat, the area darkened as the light from the bomb died down, Deacon and Boozer let out a laugh "Fucking hell" Boozer exclaimed as he sat up, Deacon helping him to a stand. They looked at what was left of the blast, tons of water was still rushing through, big chunks of debris was being swept towards the campsite "Lets get going" Deacon nudged Boozer's arm, both of them setting off into a jog.

-

Carlos left (Y/n) alone for a bit, saying something about Deacon and Boozer needing to be here to change too, her head was hanging, exhaustion taking its hold on the beaten and battered girl, the sound of the door opening was heard but she paid no mind to it, lighter footsteps approached her, she still ignored them. "Hey.." it was a girl's voice, (Y/n) weakly lifted her head, her bloodshot eyes met the worried ones of Lisa, a girl her brother saved a while back "Lisa..?" Her voice was weak, barely there, Lisa was bald, cuts littered her body, the signature 'R.I.P' symbol carved into her forehead. "That's not my name.." Lisa grabbed a knife nearby, gingerly grabbing hold of the uninjured part of her arm "Ripper's are cleansed of their pain, and made into a new person once they completely abandon their name..and I have" she cut the rope and (Y/n)'s arm limply fell to her side, a sharp jolt of pain shot through her body as her shoulder muscles stretched, pulling at her healthy and injured skin, she yelped, hissing at the sensation, Lisa cut the other rope.

(Y/n) was unprepared to hold her full weight, she collapsed into Lisa, who barely caught the older woman "I-..I can't" (Y/n) whispered weakly, Lisa helped her stand fully "Yes, you can" she quietly said words of encouragement "Your brother might be here, the dam was blown, the camp is flooded" hearing the mention of Deacon lit a small fire of hope for her. "C'mon, I know a way out but you need to walk" Lisa held her at arms length again, (Y/n) grunted in pain at the bruising on her legs, she closed her and sighed heavily, willing the pain away "I'm right behind you.." She said quietly, crouching low behind her as she walked out of the room "I'll meet you outside" Lisa said in a rushed whisper, walking ahead of her.

(Y/n) eyed the room she was in now and if she wS being honest at all, she felt a lot safer in the room she was being held in, (Y/n) carefully stalked towards the Ripper slashing up a survivor, who looked nearly dead, she grabbed the Ripper, wrapping her hand tightly over his mouth and slicing his neck open with the knife Lisa left her, she helped the body quietly fall to the ground "So, you wanna find the Path, huh? Let me help you, motherfuckers" she said through gritted teeth, wiping the blood on the knife against her pant leg.

She cleared the whole room, silently mourning the losses of the survivors that she couldn't save, she opened a set of double doors, it opened to a skywalk, she walked into another set of double doors but they were already open, it had a small staircase inside that led into another room. This one had a group of Ripper's in it "There's too many" she said under her breath, she carefully walked towards the door instead, hoping they wouldn't see her, she sighed in relief at breathing in fresher air than what was inside.

-

Deacon and Boozer fought their way into the lodge, killing every Ripper and Freak they saw "What if she's not here?" Deacon rose an irritated brow at Boozer "Like not at the lodge but somewhere else in their territory" Deacon's stare left the one handed man "We look for her, and I don't care if we have to kill every single one of them to do that, they're all fucking dying tonight anyway" Deacon grumbled, venom in his tone.

-

(Y/n) panted, having escaped the area where she was held, she was too scared and exhausted to go look for her little bit of things, she was grateful that she decided to pack light today, bringing merely a boot knife and handgun, her jacket she could part without, again she packed light to just go out on a bounty run, not to get attacked by Ripper's.

She ran through the fields, trying her best to remember which way the lodge was, she prayed to whatever was left out there that Deek would find her or she would find him, she could hear the shouts and yells of the Ripper's, finally discovering that she escaped, this only fueled her adrenaline, running even faster.

She wasn't completely aware of her surroundings, not realizing she was crossing a road or that a Ripper was on patrol there, but the Ripper was aware of her, the female Ripper lunged at her, successfully knocking her to the ground, (Y/n) yelped in pain as she landed on her injured arm, she scrambled to her feet as fast as she could, realizing she was in danger "Where you off to in such a hurry, little girl?" The Ripper rasped, a sickening smirk on her face, (Y/n) growled, clutching her knife as tightly as possible, the Ripper was armed with a club, nails embedded at the tip of it.

(Y/n) sliced through the air, the blade connected with nothing, the Ripper laughed wildly as she swung the club around, (Y/n) narrowly dodging every swing, (Y/n) swung again, the blade cut into the Ripper's skin, the Ripper kicked at (Y/n)'s hand that held the knife, successfully knocking it out of her hand, (Y/n) cried out at the pain, she was now left defenseless, the Ripper still having her weapon. The Ripper swung once more, this time (Y/n) ducked low, the attack barely missing her head, she could feel the swing send a gush of air across the top of her head, (Y/n) saw an opportunity of attack and she took it.

(Y/n) kicked the Ripper in the kneecap, the Ripper's knee easily snapping backwards at the force of her kick, the Ripper doubled over, screaming in pain at her broken leg, (Y/n) hastily came to a stand, glaring down at the Ripper who tried her best to still grab her, she eyed the leg, cringing as she saw the bone protruding through the skin. "Guess eating shit and dirt all day didn't do you any good" the Ripper growled "You little bitch!" (Y/n) took two steps toward her, standing directly above her head "Get low, bitch" (Y/n) said as she stomped hard on the Ripper's head, a chill creeped up her spine at hearing the sickening crack of the Ripper's skull caving in.

(Y/n) kept going, she could see the lodge across the field she was in, the dam was indeed blown up, the damage from the water was strong but they deserved it, they all did, she trudged on, despite her legs protesting. She paused in her steps as she heard a light staticy noise- like from a radio, she scrambled to find it instantly, scrounging around through all the debris and looking around in the vehicles, she found the source of the noise, it was a walkie talkie, she grabbed it and immediately held down the talk button. "Deacon St. John, come back" she said, her voice nearly wavering, nothing yet "Boozer, Deacon, come in" she said again, more static reached her eyes, she sighed heavily, wanting to hit something but she held back "Deek, please come in" she begged, stray tears trailing down her dirt and blood covered skin.

-

Deacon cut through the last Ripper standing between him and Carlos, they went inside the lodge, both sighing in frustration at the lack of stairs "You're never gonna make it up there" Deacon grumbled, Boozer kicked a pillar that was next to him "Yeah, I know, I'll boost you up though, throw in an extra hit for me, will ya?" Boozer got into position to boost Deacon up to the second floor. "-con St. John, come back" Boozer and Deacon froze at the sudden voice blaring through Deacon's walkie talkie.

"Boozer, -eacon, come in" the signal was cutting up badly "Deek, please come in.." The voice came through loud and clear that time, Deacon gripped the device and pressed the button "(Y/n)?! (Y/n), is that you?" He released, white noise filled the air for what felt like forever. "Deacon..?" Her voice was low, Deacon felt like he could burst into tears "(Y/n), it's me..I'm here" Deacon replied, he could hear her sniffle, he could tell she was crying. "Deek, I wanna go home.." She sounded so weak, Deacon swore he'd kill everything here for making her like that "Wh-where are you?" Deacon asked, brows furrowed with worry.

"I made it out of where they were keeping me, I'm outside, on a road" Deacon nodded "Okay, just uh, come to the lodge, and be careful" Deacon pleaded "What are you going to do?" Her voice replied, Deacon's gaze hardened "Something that should have been done awhile ago" Deacon released the button, turning to Boozer "I'm ready".

[leftsidebonfire]

OG Hamon Crew Headcanons by Yours Truly, Leftside Bonfire

Tagging a few peeps who showed interest, hope you don't mind 👉👈 @theeggcatwizard @its-that-guy-again also @go-dark-turtle cuz it's ur man and @berryvalentine because you appreciate my PB love. Also @bleach-and-a-blowtorch cuz we appreciate Will together.

Okay so.

Firstly, Dire, Will and Straizo were not as serious as you might think. When those 3 started Hamon training, they were about as goofy and Caesar and Joseph. Caesar gets his shenanigans from someone, after all. 👀

Will, of course, took it very seriously and was a dedicated and hard worker, as were the others, but they're young men with a special skill who are bound to play around eventually.

For example, look at Will. He's hopping along the water using hamon, giggling and clearly having a good time even at 50. He's clearly very playful and eccentric. It wouldn't surprise me if the others got in on it, too!

Straizo was the most serious. Will was the most eccentric. Dire was somewhere in the middle. He was very studious, but got roped into shenanigans with Will a lot easier. Straizo was the level headed one who shook his head when Will woke up at 3 am with another plan to try water hopping.

Sometimes the boys would sneak out, too. They can't be perfect all the time. Will was a night owl who got his best ideas at night, and it was one night he just couldn't sleep, so he tried using Hamon to stick to the wall. Needless to say, he found a way to climb and visited Dire and Straizo at their own respective rooms... from outside their windows 3 stories up!

Dire is the himbo of the group. Every group needs a himbo, and he is it. He puts on a very serious face, a lot of the time, but he has his moments. When he does something skillful, he is very proud of himself. In more than just a prideful way, more like a "Hey, cool, I did it!" Type way. After he taught himself Thunder Cross Split Attack, he took great pride in getting both Straizo and Will with it several times.

Dire tried to get Tonpetty with it once. Once. And never again.

None of the boys invented the Hamon breathing mask, but they did watch in its creation and were some of the first to try them out. They looked a lot different and improved over the years, which Straizo actually did participate in.

Will invented his wine technique on accident. It was a genuine moment of, "fuck it, I wanna see if this works." And it did. He showed the others and they thought it was weird.

Dire learned how to ballroom dance at a young age, and in his free time, taught the others.

Dire and Straizo were a part of Will's wedding.

Will gets a lot of his energy from sailing. The seas are tough and the people on them are more gruff and brutal, so he had a lot more freedom to be eccentric. This carried over into adulthood, clearly. Even being a distinguished gentleman, he still can't resist a good prank, much like sneezing yourself 20 feet into the air.

Straizo would mainly come out of his shell when intoxicated. On the nights the boys shared their wine, it wouldn't be unusual to see the three leaning on each other, and Straizo with the biggest smile and drunken blush dusting his cheeks.

Since so few people in the world studied Hamon, the group, even the teachers alike, had a very close bond. And while the students had their fun, on occasion, the others would also join in the shenanigans every once in a while. Tonpetty was a lot like Lisa Lisa in his teaching, but it doesn't stop him from laughing at some of the things others come up with.

Will's hat was still a family heirloom. He got it from his father. And it was Speedwagon who made sure Mario Zeppeli got it. It fell back into Speedwagon's hands after Mario died, and Speedwagon once again made sure it was received by Caesar.

And to finish off this round of headcanons (I'm willing to bet there will be MANY more)...

Will was the most skilled of the group. Hamon came very naturally to him. Straizo was second best, though it took far longer. Will was the fast learner, Straizo was best in the long run. Dire wasn't the best. It took him far longer to get the hang of it, though once he figured it out, he was first to start inventing his own techniques and even the trainers were impressed.

💕💕💕

Ight so like... I feel really really inclined to make a fic out of Will's training days with some really headcanoned lore.... would anybody actually be interested in reading it? I haven't been in my Harry Potter phase in a long time but this gives a major Marauders vibes and I'm sooo inspired by them right now 👉👈

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “My Beautiful Sun.”

And end to another arc. And yes I know I am better at writing angst than fluff, so if you guys want some fluff, I am going to need some recommendations or ideas . I hope you like it and I hope you have a great Thursday!

The space above fiery A136 was quiet, a marble of glass hung in a vacuum of darkness. Fire licked silently across the planet’s surface as rain clouds gathered along the border of light and dark. 

The star sone with increased intensity, white hot through the darkness. A myriad of satellites, space stations and the occasional abandoned mining ship orbited the planet systems of light blinking in the darkness.

One of these ships, a luxury civilian transport was on the bright side of its orbit, silhouetted against the fiery star=, the lines of white where the sun hit and pools of black where it did not, making a sharp contrast upon the face of the ship between light and dark.

It seemed a peaceful thing, hanging there in the darkness unsuspecting of thwart was to come.

ON the far edge of the planet’s orbit, there was a sudden whirling and a sharp flash of light as another ship appeared from the darkness.

It was hulking, massive, and painted black against the stars, only its blue highlight strips gave any indication there was a ship there at al. She crawled from the darkness stealthily slithering through the starry expanse until her shadow bore down on the unsuspecting ship.

***

Fiery starlight spilled in through the front window, tinted just enough that they were not completely blinded by its awful magnitude. A figure stood against the burning light, unmoving, arms crossed over his chest.

On his shoulder there sat a smaller figure all colorful fluff and impossibly large eyes.

“Lord Avex….”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Deploy the grapples… and don’t bother to be gentle about it.

***

Sunny sagged against her chains, her legs dumbed from the increased drugs. The dosage they had given her far outweigh any of the other doses that had come before, insuring that she would not move during the procedure. As limp as she was, she worried about her joints dislocating, as her shoulders were the only thing holding her up.

“Hold it steady.” The man ordered, and she could feel the cool, clammy tough of the man’s hand on her lower left arm as the last bit of her forearm carapace was stripped away. The cold was immediate and unpleasant, and the feel of the air against her bare skin made her want to scratch it off. It was a horrible sensation that she detested immediately.

Looking down at her arm, the only thing left there was the grey, gore stained skin cut with abrasions and pale from never having seen the light . The  sight made her sick, as hideous as it was, and she used the last of her strength to turn her head away.

The man held up what was left of the carapace, “Ah, that should be enough for three vials, don’t you think? He walked across the room, and Sunny watched in hopeless anger as he fed her shining armor into the machine, grinding it into powder right there before her eyes. From there it dripped down into three bottles, and held them up to the light, “A little less than I thought we would get, But it should be enough.”

He walked back over the the fancy woman and handed her the vials, which she looked down at with distaste.”

“Is something wrong ma’am.”

She turned to look up at him as if that had been a stupid question, “Not as much as you were expecting? That sounds like you are short changing me. When I came here for three vials.I wanted three vials of the promised size, not a little less than what we were hoping for.”

The man held up his hands in a defensive way, “Ok ok, my apologies. We will get you some more.”

He turned to look at Sunny, and she knew what was coming next.

The circular saw blade began to spin slowly as his partner held it at the ready, lowering his goggles down over his face.

And then the ship jolted violentl.

The man pitched forward, nearly imbedding the circular saw tool in his own face, but catching himself at the last minute. The fancy woman keeled over backwards and hit the floor hard as her shoes unbalanced her, and the third man slammed sideways into the chains, releasing the mechanism that held her up, and causing her to fall to the floor. She didn’t really feel much when she hit, she hadn’t been all that high up anyway.

Out of all of them, her descent to the floor had been the least violent.

One of the men stood, “What the hell was that!”

The massive clatter of metal, was accompanied by the groaning of the ships hull which deflected and popped against the weight of something. Sirens began to go off overhead as the two men leaped to their feet, while the fancy woman struggled just to make it to her knees.

One of them raced over to the coms and slammed their fist against it, “What’s going on up there.”

There was no answer for a long moment before, “We are being boarded, sir!” The voice was frantic, and on the other end of the line Sunny could hear more metallic screeching.

The ship continued to vibrate and scream as the group of men staggered their way across the floor.

Sunny tried to lift her head, but didn’t have the strength.

Her mind moved slowly.

Being boarded.

Could it be?

But no…. That was too much to hope for…. Wasn’t it?

Next to her the other Drev shifted and lifted their heads.

The man pressed the comm again, “Someone do SOMETHING.”

“We can’t, sir they have shielding.”

“Than get rid of their shielding!”

The man on the other end of the line went quiet, “We aren’t going to win this one boss.

“Get the escape pods ready then.” She snarled.

“I can’t sir, its a magnetic grapple field, so nothing is getting out of this.

 THe man howled in frustration.

There was a sharp thud on the outside.

“How could they even get in?” one of the men wondered, “There is no outside access to the airlock.”

Just then another voice came over the line, “Sir, sir something has taken over out internal computer systems…. I I don’t know what it is but I….”

There was a loud THUD from somewhere below them.

“The airlock!” someone yelled 

And that was when Sunny began to laugh. It was so startling, that the entire room went quiet as they turned to look at her. She wasn’t really amused, but there was a part of her, one that was very smug about what she was sure was soon to happen.

“What are you laughing about, scarab.”

She continued to laugh for a long moment, “You’re fucked.”

“What is she talking about.” The woman demanded.

Sunny laughed again, “I know whose ship that is.” 

More laughter

The men looked concerned. One of them pointed the circular saw blade at her, “Tell us!”

She giggled manically, “That’s the Omen.”

“What do you mean the Omen.” The man said nervously, shuffling his feet, “I mean you dim bastard THE omen. The pride of the UNSC fleet…. Captained b Admiral vir and a crew of a thousand men and aliens. Celzex weapons, Vrul shields…. And GRAVITY enabled grappling fields.” She began to laugh again.

“He’s coming…. Hes coming.”

Her manic laughter had clearly unsettled then, and her warning made it all the worse.

“Someone…..I, give me the damn blowtorch.” 

Once given his prize, he thrust it at one of the other men and pointed towards the door. Outside Sunny was just beginning to hear the sounds of distant carnage, “Weld it shut!”

WHen the man didn’t move at first he nearly went ballistic, “DO IT NOW.”

Sunny began to laugh again.

The man still holding the saw blade turned to look at her, viciously kicking her in the side, “Shut up scarab.”

The man at the door was having a tough time getting the idea to work, and with everyone screaming at  him and his hands shaking, it was doing no real good. 

That was probably why the door didn’t last more than a few microseconds. With a loud screech and thunderous bang the door was ripped off its tracks. The six inch thick metal door, not just dented open or blown inward, but kicked out of its brackets and completely detached from the wall all together, with such a powerful force, it slammed into the first man and sent him back gnarly three feet, slamming into the floor, unmoving.

When the sparks settled, and the room quiet, Sunny heard the hydraulic whirr and hiss as two feet clattered against the floor.

Smoke from out in the hallway filtered in through the floor as the figure stood at the door.

The first human, the one at the intercom, raced forward, a steel pipe having appeared in his hands some minutes ago. He swung it at the newcomers head, but it was useless, he cot the steel pipe with the queal of metal against metal, forearm to pipe, and then ripped it backwards out of the man’s hands , sending him flailing to the floor.

The second man came at him with the only weapon left available: the whirring circular saw.

He caught that too on the metal of the exo skeleton and then droe it hard downward, sending the circular saw blade cutting right into the man’s foot and sticking him to the floor. The man screamed long and loud, but his attacker did not heed him, spinning once with a backhanded swing that sent the pipe careening into the other man’s head, with a violent THWACK.

The second man wrenched the saw blade from his foot with a roar of pain, but it was knocked aside and went clattering across the floor as he was punched in the sternum.

There was a sharp crunch as he went staggering backwards and hit the floor very still.

Behind him, a group of other figures poured into the room.

One figure, big and red, grabbed two humans by the backs of their coats and threw them into the nearby wall with a sharp clatter.

The original figure knelt on the floor fist drawn back, ready to send his fist through the man’s head.

“ADAM! HELP HER!”

His fist stopped and grew still. For a moment the man below him looked relieved, but with a sharp blow to the face he was knocked unconscious. 

Adam stood, blurry in her vision as he raced over to her side.

She heard the soft hissing of the Iron eye suit as he knelt next to her.

Strong hands and warm arms grasped around her chest and middle, hauling her partially upright where her head leaned against his chest. He held her tight, tight enough that it should have hurt but she didn’t care.

“Sunny…. Sunny can you hear me?” 

It echoed around and around inside her head.

Carnage nearly drowned him out.

A hand pressed against her cheek, “Sunny, Sunny please say something.”

Her head lolled against his chest as the light overhead faded in and out…

Her body, tense from a month of perpetual fear and anger slowly relaxed and she felt her body sliding downward before he caught her, holding her upright to sag against him.

For the first time in over a month, she was safe.

Her mind knew it.

And her body knew it.

So, it shut her off, allowed her some peace, in the arms of a person who wasn’t about to let anything more happen to her.

***

She didn’t feel the movement, wasn’t aware of the strong arms that carried her from the ship all on his own, wasn’t aware of the hushed voices and the quiet whispering. Wasn’t aware of the days that went by with her stillness and the waiting concern of those around her.

When she finally opened her eyes and awoke it was to soft beeping, and dim blue light. White curtains hung about her, over her head, and for a moment she wasn’t really sure where she was.

It wasn’t the sound at first but the sensations.

Something warm gripping her hand, and gripping it tight, and a soft caress over the skin of her exposed stomach, repeating circles, up the side down to the side and back.

She turned her head very slowly and groggily to the side.

At first she didn’t recognize the face of the man who sat next to her but as her slow brain caught up with her eyes she hummed in confusion and worry.

“Adam?”

The man lifted his head, turning to look at her. Scruffy, gaunt, and supporting about two weeks of growth on his chin and face, but when he smiled at her she knew for sure it was him, brighter than any light in this place. He rested a hand against the side of her face, “I…. i was worried…. You scared me.”

“Sorry” She muttered softly.

He brought his other hand up to the other side of her face leaning down to gently touch foreheads with her for a quiet moment, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it sooner.”

The pain in his eyes made her hurt just to watch and she shook her head, “An entire universe, and you still found me, considering you did it in a month is pretty impressive.”

He gave a weak smile. “If… If i had just been safer during the storm.”

She raised a hand, “Shh…. none of that.”

He trailed off and nodded sheepishly. He leaned forward, “I’m sorry, this… this isn’t about me…. How are you feeling?”

She shifted, and despite lethargy, she was at least able to move, “A bit…. Drugged.”

“Yeah, there were massive amount of paralysis in your system when we found you. Krill has been pulling the drugs out, but he says it may take a few weeks to get back to normal.”

Below her on the bed  She flex and unflexed her lower left hand. She wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to look, but she knew she had to. WHen she turned her head down she grew sick to her stomach. The hideous grey expanse of scarred up tissue and  disgusting pale skin. She turned her head away, but he caught her, hands to the side of her face again.

She let out a shaky breath

“Hey, hey, none of that…. Don’t even start.” One hand still on her cheek, he lowered the other and took her lower left hand in his, “This doesn’t change anything you hear me, nothing at all. Not about the way I feel, and certainly not about the way you should feel about  yourself ok….”

She struggled internally for a moment.

He squeezed her hand tighter, “No matter what, ok.:

She felt as he slid his hand down the inside of her wrist, resting his hand along the strange exposed skin of her forearm. It felt strange, unusual, tingly. It made her cringe thinking about touching it, but he didn’t flinch once, “Don’t you think for one minute that this makes you any less.” She stared into his face and he stared back with a conviction so strong she felt herself starting to believe.

His serious face was broken by a sudden smile, “Besides…. I…. I have something for you.”

The bright smile and excitement filtered over to her and she sat up against her pillows.

“I made it myself!” he announced with pleasure, pausing as he turned around with a box between his two hands.

“I….” He looked down a bit sheepishly, “Don’t laugh alright….. It was my first go but I… I wanted to make something….”

Sunny didn’t even have to see it to know she would love it anyway.

Slowly he handed to box over to her, and she lifted the lid.

Inside, was a polished metal vambrace made of shimmering blue metal flecked with little golden bits on the inside.

She stared.

“Do you like it…. I…. well I made it while you were sleeping,... i mean i would have stayed here if krill had let me, but he sort of forced me to leave and get some rest, of course I couldn’t sleep so I ended up down in your workshop instead, and I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I made this and I thought maybe it would help, and since I remembered that  there was a little bit of your dad’s carapace in my leg, I removed a little piece and used that inside the metal, and I’m sorry if that’s a bad thing or….” She gripped his hand to stop him from rambling.

“Can you, help me put it on.”

The relief on his face was so visible it was almost a sound, and he gently took the metal bracer from the box. He looked nervous as it snapped open and he situated her arm inside.

She had trouble looking at it, but his expression didn’t change once as his fingers brushed over the exposed skin.

The metal was cold against her arm.

He took a deep breath, and snapped the brase close with a sharp snap. 

The strange feeling of the room was now gone, and she was left only with the slowly warming underside of the metal, and the beautiful glittering of the Crude metalwork inlaid with pieces of her father’s carapace.

“Does it fit?”

She lifted her arm and turned it this way and that, admiring the shine of the metal.

She looked up at him, “Not bad…. Not bad at all.” 

He grinned, the relief still evident there. He pressed his forehead against hers for another quick moment before sitting back, “Now rest, or I’ll knock you out myself, you hear.”

She snorted but yawned, “I’d like to see you try.”

“If i can find one Drev in an entire universe, I’m pretty sure I could knock that same Drev unconscious, but whatever makes you feel better, Zhak, hijan chal.”

She closed her eyes.

And fell

Fast

Asleep

[kpopfromtheblock]

a/n ⇾ i’m so late but better late than never i always say lmao… this is like partially edited, i’m sorry y’all… i’m so tired, i’ll re-read and fix the mistakes i’ve made later on. thank you all so much for your patience and support. i hope you enjoy part one of LWB 010! 

for reference,*this* is what i imagine the villa to look like in this story (the photos of the air b & b do not belong to me. the only reason why i’m adding the link is because i’m terrible at descriptions and want the readers to have a good visual of their settings). also, any text that is shown in ‘Bold/Italics’ throughout the story will represent Y/n’s thoughts.

LIFE WITH BANGTAN | ot7

010

genre ⇾ mature content (swearing, smut is implied), fluff, comedy

pairing ⇾ bts x fem reader, ot7 x fem reader

summary ⇾  two years spent together surely calls for a celebration right? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. the boys whisk you away to paradise for the week to celebrate your anniversary!

warning ⇾ talks of kidnapping and murder, slow burn, mature content (the reader and namjoon get a little frisky but no sex… at least not in part one), dirty talk, talks of fellatio and cunnilingus — usual warnings: cringy-ness, swearing

words ⇾ 6,3k

. * 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . * ⁺ ⁺

“No way.” You mumble to yourself as the car you’re in pulls up to one of the largest villas you’ve ever seen. Just from looking at the exterior of this place, you can tell that it was expensive. This couldn’t possibly be the place the boys had rented out for your vacation. There’s no way. This was way too much for just the eight of you and you were only staying for ten days.

“Um, excuse me sir?” You call out to the driver, whose name you had quickly forgotten within the two hour ride from the airport to this castle you’re currently in front of. “Yes Miss?” He answers politely whilst unbuckling his seat belt. “Are you sure this is the right place?” You question, voice riddled with uncertainty. “Of course Miss. This is the address I was instructed to take you to. Please stay seated, I will get the door.” His accent is thick but you are able to make out every word he says. 

You enjoy the way the words sound rolling off of his tongue. It’s quite pleasant to hear.

“But this-“ You’re unable to protest because the driver eagerly gets out of the car, jogging around to the opposite side to unlock the backseat door. As soon as the door opens, the extremely hot weather hits you. You had no idea Paris got this hot in the summer time. 

You hesitate getting out of the car as it is still cool from the air condition that was just on.

You definitely regret a black hoodie with matching black leggings now…

“Please step out miss,” The driver says with a kind smile. You know that’s just the professional way to say ‘Get the fuck out of my car.’ — so you do, not wanting to hold the man up any longer.

He probably has other people to pick up or maybe you were his last ride and he wanted to get home and retire for the evening, get home to his family... Whatever the case was, you finally decide to step out the car, feet hitting the concrete and the warm weather kisses your face. You instantly hate the feeling. You do enjoy summer, but not when it’s this hot. 

“I will get your bags Miss.” You nod and turn to look around. 

The place is extremely beautiful from what you can see outside. It’s rustically designed, with bricks, stone and wood. The path leading up to the house is all cobblestones… There’s no way you’d be able to get away with walking around in heels without busting your ass in process.

There is a large archway, made completely of stone. You assume that is where the entrance is. 

You pull out your phone and quickly unlock it then go into your contacts... For a few seconds you’re not sure who you should call but then you decide it’d be best to call Taehyung as he is probably the one who picked out this villa… It pretty much has his name written all over it. 

The phone rings two times before you hear the base of his sweet voice flow through your ears. 

“Hi Darling, have you reached?”

“Kim Taehyung, I’m gonna murder you and the others.” You say, somewhat jokingly. 

“Why? What’s wrong? Is everything okay with the house?” He asks you a hundred questions at once. You take few seconds to process everything before responding to him. “Everything is perfect...” You start as you watch the kind man take your duffle bag out and put it on top of your suitcase. He rolls the two up the pathway until he is disappearing behind the stone arch…

You are afraid to move from beside the car, just incase you are in fact, at the wrong place and have to make a quick exit before the owner of the property comes out with a blowtorch to light your ass up for trespassing. 

“That’s the not problem.” You continue, there’s a pause on the other end. Tae is waiting for an explanation.

“What’s wrong Y/N? I’m starting to get worried.” Tae says after a few seconds of silence. You suddenly feel bad for making him concerned but you can’t wrap your head around the fact that the boys went out of their way to get a place this fancy for your anniversary. 

“This place is way too big and expensive... You guys didn’t have to do this.” 

Tae chuckles and shakes his head as if you could see him. “I know we didn’t have to but how often do the eight of us get to go on vacation together?” 

He did have a point. You’ve known the boys for five years and have been dating them for two and in those two years of dating, the eight of you have never gotten a chance to go on a vacation without work being involved. 

“I guess you’re right.” You start. “But still, isn’t this place a bit too much for the eight of us?”

“I personally think it’s not enough but Hyung wouldn’t let us rent the bigger villa a few blocks down.” Tae sighs and you have to chuckle at him. Tae is definitely Prince High in the land of Maintenance and he has the right to be. He’s extremely humble and has worked hard for everything he has, alongside his members. He deserve to enjoy the finer things in life and if that means spending a large sum of money on a vacation villa for eight then why the fuck not right? 

“Okay Miss, you’re all set.” Your driver says as he jogs back over to meet you. “Thank you so much.” You smiled brightly at him. “What time does your flight get into tomorrow?” You ask Tae whilst pressing your phone between your ear and shoulder so that you can rummage through the bag that is draped across your body.

The boys had to take a flight a day later than you as they had a few things to finish up before getting to officially rest. You’d be missing a day with them but you figured you could use that time alone to do a little bit of self care and pampering or maybe a little bit of sightseeing.

“Our flight lands around noon so we should get to the villa around one or two pm.” Taehyung informs you as you pull your wallet out. You hum in response. “Sounds good. I can’t wait for you guys to get here.” You tell Tae as you take the crisp note out of your wallet and hand it over to the driver.

You’re happy that you remembered to convert your dollars into euros before leaving the airport. 

The man before you smiles kindly and thanks you before heading back to his vehicle. 

“I’m excited too darling,” Taehyung informs you, you can tell by the sound of his voice that there is a smile present on his face and that makes a smile form on your own. You go down the cobblestone path to your new home for the next ten days. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you get closer to the entrance of the villa. You’re relieved to be away from the sun and under the shade of the stone archway. 

“Whoa” You mumble to yourself when you see the large glass door and the neon red ‘Exit’ sign beside it. 

“I gotta getting going babe. The boys are waiting for me in rehearsal… We’ll call you later” Tae’s voice rings in your ear.

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too baby. Talk to you later.”

“Okay.” And with that you pull the phone away from your ear and end the call with Tae. Phone still in hand, you swipe your finger across the screen a few times to get to the massage app. Opening the group chat you have with the boys, you scroll up just a bit to find the access pin to get into the villa. 

Once you find it, you take a few steps up to the door and tap on the key pad. It beeps to life and you slowly type in the pin, not wanting to mess up. The key pad light up a neon green, indicating that you put in the correct code. You grab hold of the handle and twist it before pushing the door open. “Oh my god,” Leaves your mouth in a soft gasps as you see the interior of the beautiful home. If you thought outside was gorgeous, inside takes the cake. 

Your place would look like a freaking shoe box compared to this. 

You close the front door and take off your bag and the hoodie you’re wearing. The cool breeze from the air condition meets your warm skin and you are incredibly thankful to the owner for leaving the AC on.

You decide to take a few minutes exploring the house. Upon entering the house, you are in the living room which is surrounded by stone walls and archways, just like outside. The brown leather furniture compliments the grey tone of the the walls. Walking further into the house, you step into the kitchen. It’s an open space, with a large window and a rustic wooden table in the center. Moving on, theres a common area with a large cherry wood piano taking up space in the corner. The wall across from the piano has a huge ceiling to floor photo of some musician you’ve never heard of. 

Exploring more of the house, you discover that there is a second living room complete with a huge ass fire place and massive tv, a dining room that seats eight, five bedrooms and five full bathrooms. There’s a recreational area outside complete with a grill, benches and a huge pool. A second recreational area complete with a pool table and to top it all off, a gorgeous cement spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

“This place is a fucking dream.” You think out loud, shaking your head is disbelief. You can’t even imagine how many numbers are on the price tag for a place like this. You don’t even want to think about how much money the boys spent to book it… 

Going back to the front door, you grab your suitcase and pull it down the hall towards the bedrooms. There are three of them upstairs and two on the second floor. You’re sure you’ll be room hopping or maybe even sharing one room with all the guys so it doesn’t really matter what room you’re in but you do need somewhere to keep your things while you’re there… So, you go for the first room you see. It’s just as gorgeous as the rest of the house and maybe a little smaller than some of the other rooms in the villa but you don’t mind… It’s designed with stone walls, just like the living room, a queen sized bed facing a HUGE window that basically takes up the entire wall. Theres a small circular table and chair placed snuggly in the corner and a few pieces of artwork on the wall. 

It’s perfect for you. 

You pull your suitcase into the room and lay it flat on the floor. Pulling your phone out your back pocket, you sit on the floor with crossed legs. Opening up the camera on your phone, you decided to take a quick selfie. 

You hold the camera up and stretch your hand out to get the perfect angle for the photo. You don’t look your best after a day full of traveling but you smile anyways.  Eyes scrunched closed and two fingers up in a peace sign up, you snapped the picture. You don’t even take a second look at it before going into the family group chat. You select the photo then type out a message under it before hitting send. 

From You

1 Attachment

hiiiii, not sure if Tae told the rest of you but i made it to the villa! its absolutely gorgeous and i can’t wait for you all to get here 🥺 love y’all! 

After the message has been delivered, you start unpacking. First you pull out all your skincare, beauty and body products so that you can bring them into the bathroom. Next you take out all the little dresses and flowy tops you brought with you to hang in the closet. You take out your hats and accessories and neatly arrange them on the little table in the corner. Last is your shoes. A lot of sneakers and flat sandals because comfort is key and a few pairs of your favorite heels that go with everything. You line your shoes up against the wall in the closet. There’s no dresser in the room so you decide to keep your socks and undergarments in the suitcase before pulling your suitcase into the closet so that it is out of the way.

When you’re done with unpacking, you go into the bathroom to take a shower. You need to wash your hair and wash the flight off of you. 

Stepping into the large shower, you immediately sigh when the water hits you. You start by washing your hair, taking time to let the soap lather up and seep into your roots. You could almost fall asleep from how good your fingers feel massaging your scalp. 

When you’re done with your hair, you move on to washing your body. You let the warm water smooth your aching muscles. It takes you a total of thirty minutes to finish up your shower.

You push open the shower door and grab the nearest towel off the shelf. You quickly shake the cloth through your damp hair before tossing it in the hamper. You then decide to work on your skincare. That routine takes you about fifteen minutes. That’s enough time for your body to air dry because you are too lazy to pat yourself dry with a towel. 

In the middle of the last step of your skincare regimen, you hear what sounds like the doorbell ring. The sound startles you, causing you to yelp. “What the fuck?” You think out loud. It rings again and you quickly pat the rest of your moisturizer into your face before grabbing your silk robe off the back of the bathroom door. You wrap yourself up in it before exiting the bathroom. 

Extremely confused, you walk out your room and towards the front door. The closer you get to the front door, the more you’re able to see someone standing on the other side of the frosted glass. 

You can’t make out who is it but there is definitely someone there. The doorbell rings again, causing you to jump for a second time. “Hello?” You say, putting your hand on the knob as you wait patiently for a response but it never comes. 

The person on the other end lifts their hand up to knock this time. “Who is it?” You ask again, feeling like your heart is about to drop down to your stomach from

how nervous you are...

Who in the hell could be showing up to your secluded air b and b at six pm in the evening? 

The knock on the door comes again, a little louder this time. “Who is it?” You ask for the second time, frustration evident in you voice. You’ve watched too many foreign hostage movies to know that the minute you open that door, someone in a mask is going to snatch you up and take you away. 

You look to your left and grab the umbrella from the bucket beside the door... It’s not much but the end is pointy and if you push it hard enough, you’re sure you’ll be able to pierce through the skin of whoever is on the other side of the door. You steady your hand on the knob, ready to open it but you halt when the person on the other side finally speaks.... 

“Kitten, please open the door. It’s hot as fuck out here.” 

You’d know that voice anywhere. Quickly pulling the door open, you are both delighted and relieved to see your boyfriend Yoongi, dressed in all black much like you were earlier. His gummy smile makes an appearance and your heart flutters. He looks down, taking notice to the umbrella in your hand before looking back up at you and raising a questionable eyebrow. “I thought you were a murderer.” You told

him and he chuckles. “Come here.” He says before, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You wrap your arms around his neck, umbrella still in hand. 

“I thought you guys wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.” You say, pulling away from Yoongi to look at his face. “We wanted to surprise you.” He tells you and you smile before leaning forward to press a kiss to his soft lips.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to escalate. You immediately melt in Yoongi’s arms. He holds you close to him as his tongue desperately licks at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You smile against his mouth before parting your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his warm tongue into your mouth. “Mmm” He moans against you. Your tongues caress each other’s, causing few moans of your own to fall past your lip. 

“We haven’t even been here a full hour yet and Hyung is already hogging her.” You pull alway from Yoongi against his wishes to find a very pouty Jungkook staring at the two of you. You chuckle then turn back to Yoongi and peck his lips once more before moving yourself out of his grip. You walk over to your big baby and lean up to kiss his next. “I miss you Kookie.” You tell him truthfully and he smiles. “I missed you more.” He says before kissing you again. 

“Um excuse me, can I get a little help please?” Taehyung huffs out. You look away from Jungkook to see poor Taehyung struggling up the cobblestone path with two large suitcases. “No.” Yoongi quickly says. “No one told you to bring a hundred bags. We’re only here for ten days.” He adds and you laugh. You walk over to Tae and take a suitcases from him. “Thank you Darling,” He says sweetly. “I can always count on you.” He continues, speaking loud enough for the other members to hear. You watch Yoongi ignore him and walk into the villa, Jungkook following closely behind. 

“Wow!” Jungkook says excitedly, upon entering the home. 

Turning your attrntion back to Tae, you begin pulling his suitcase along. It’s extremely heavy but you use all the strength you have to get it up the small steps. “Tae, what the hell? What’s in here?” You struggle to get the words out. 

“Is it too heavy for you? I’ll take it.” 

“No, no, it’s fine I can do it but what’s in here?”

“My shoes.”

You stop dead in your tracks, to look up at the handsome boy. “Seriously?” You question him in disbelief. “It’s good to have options baby.” He says nonchalantly. You laugh and shake your head, finishing your journey up the steps and into the villa. 

Tae comes inside after you and his mouth drops in awe at the beauty of your home for the next week. “This is better than the pictures online.” Tae says as he pushes his suitcase to the side and runs off to explore the house. 

Yoongi has already taken up space on the couch, his eyes closed and hand placed over his stomach as he lays across the cushions.

Jungkook is in the kitchen unloading his bag of snacks. 

You realize that those two are probably done helping with the luggage so you go back outside to give a hand.

As you step towards the door, you come face to face with the one and only Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly at you. “Hi Princess!” He greets you excitedly. “Hello Handsome.” You give his lips a quick kiss before stepping aside to let him in. “Why do you have an umbrella?” He questions you and you look down at your hand. You totally forgot you were holding it. “Oh,” You says before putting it back in the basket it belongs in. “Umm, funny story. I’ll tell you about it later.” You say in amusement. “I look forward to it.” He says, as he struts back over to you and wraps you in a tight bear hug. Your face is pressed to his chest and you silently inhale, taking comfort in his scent. 

“Are you sniffing me?” 

‘He caught me.’ You think to yourself.

 “What? No.. That’s weird.” 

“It’s okay…” Jin tells you. “If I were you, I’d sniff me too.” He says smugly and you instantly roll your eyes. “Ugh!” You groan trying to feign annoyance but the smirk on your face tells a different story. You try to push yourself out of Jin’s grip but he just holds you tighter, laughing at your attempt to escape. “Where are you going?” Jin ask, snuggling closer to you. 

“I’m going to help with the rest of bags.”

“It’s okay Angel,” You hear Hobi’s voice from behind you. You turn around as much as you can whilst still Jin’s grip. Hoseok comes into view, looking as handsome as always, Followed by the equally handsome Park Jimin, strutting in a pair of pink tinted sunglasses. 

“Jimin and I got the last of them.” He informs you as he drops his duffel bag off his shoulder.  “Hi Guys!” You say excitedly before turning you head to look back up at Jin.

“Babe, you gotta let me go now...”

“And why is that?”

“We’ve been hugging for at least five minutes, I wanna hug Hobi and Jimin too.” 

“Yeah, we missed her too Hyung,” Hobi says, making his way over to the two of you. “I suppose... But first,” Jin pokes out his lips out, indicating that he wants a kiss from you. You first reaction is to laugh at him...

“You big baby...” You mumble before standing on your toes to peck his lips once. Of course one kiss is not enough for him, so he pecks your lips two more times. He doesn’t get to go for a third kiss because Hoseok is pulling you out of the older man’s grip and into his arms for a hug. He picks you up off the floor and you squeal.

In an instant, Hobi is smothering your face in kisses, ending each one with an exaggerated ‘Mauh!’ 

“Hobert Jung, put me down. My robe is riding up.” You say through fits of giggles.

Taehyung and Jimin emerge from the kitchen just as the words leave your mouth. “You’ve been naked under there this whole time?” Tae says cheekily. “Obviously, I’m surprise that wasn’t the first thing you noticed.”  Jungkook responses for you.

“So what? It’s not that we haven’t seen you naked before.” Hobi states, finally putting you back down. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You know they belong to Jimin. You can tell just by the feeling of his chest against your back. You lean into his touch as he places a single kiss on your check from behind. “I missed you.” He says sweetly and you smile at the sound of his honey-like voice in your ear. 

“I missed you too.. All of you, I’m so happy you guys are here.”

“We’re happy we’re here too.” Jin responses as he walks over to the couch Yoongi is laying on. He takes a seat at the end of it, putting Yoongi’s legs on his lap. Yoongi has already fallen asleep, eyes closed and lips parted as he breathes peaceful. 

“Now the eight of us can really get this party started!” Jungkook exclaims while bouncing side to side enthusiastically. 

“Speaking of the eight of us, where is Joon?” You question, you realize he’s the only one you haven’t seen yet. “He’s upstairs, I think.” Taehyung informs you, ignoring the other seats in the living room so that he can plop down on the floor in front of the coffee table. “He snuck right past me.” You say, a pout evident on you face. 

“Well Hyung was in you face the entire time and I think Namjoon Hyung was on the phone with Manager Sejin.” Jimin tells you, his arms still securely wrapped around you.

“He should be off by now, why don’t you go see.” Jin suggest and you nod your head in agreement. “We should pick rooms now anyways then we’ll eat.” He adds. 

“What should we eat? I didn’t get a chance to go to the market.”

“That’s okay Princess, we saw one in town on our way in. We can stop there.” Jin explains and once again, you nod. “Okay, I’ll go check on Joon.” You say, slipping out of Jimin’s arms. You already miss the comfort of his body against your but it’s fine. You’ll be wrapped up in him again at some point during this trip. 

You make your way over to the spiral staircase and walk up the stairs in search of Namjoon. 

Upon reaching the top step, you can hear the faint sound of his voice. 

He’s still on the phone.

The further you get down the hall, the louder his deep voice escapes through bedroom door.

“We’ll be okay, we have GPS.” You hear Namjoon say. You knock lightly on the door before poking your head in to let him know its you. A smile forms on your face when you see the sight of your handsome man sitting on the edge of the bed, looking oh so delectable in a pair of baggy tan shorts and a cream colored Fear Of God t-shirt that you could’ve sworn you saw on Yoongi once but maybe not? 

The glasses on Joon’s face raise as his check puff up from smiling at you. You nearly swoon at sight of his dimples. 

With one hand pressing his phone up to his ear Namjoon uses his other hand to motion you over to him. “C’mere,” He mouths to you then pats on his thighs indicating that he wants you to sit on them.

You don’t hesitate, happily taking a few small steps across the floor until you’re in front of him. Joon quickly wraps his free hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You straddle his lap, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. The little robe you’re wearing raises up, exposing more of your thighs as you make yourself comfortable on Joon’s lap.  You try to ignore the feel of your bare core resting on top of the soft cotton of his sweatpants but it’s a lot harder to do than you’d like to admit.  

The man beneath you brings his hand to rest on your soft skin and you drape your arms over his shoulders. 

“Yes, okay...” Namjoon responses to whoever is on the other line, he watches you as your hand comes forward to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. While you’re in your own world, suddenly fascinated by his jewelry, Namjoon takes the time to admire you. His eyes scan over the features of your face... You look different… well-rested, happier. You’re radiant and glowing and he loves to see it. 

You’re too busy admiring the necklace to notice his eyes on you. “There,” You say patting your fingers against his neckline where the chain lays. When you finally look up, the man’s eyes are already on you.

Slightly thrown off by his stare, you ask “What?” your voice comes out in a whisper, you don’t want to interrupt his conversation but you also want him to hear you and he does. Namjoon shakes his head in response, the smile never leaving his face.

“Nothing, you look pretty.” he confesses and you blush, a small smirk forming on your lips. You lean forward to place a single kiss on his plump lips before pulling away. Joon leans into you, chasing your lips for another one. You chuckle at his eagerness... You couldn’t resist him, even if you tried. 

You press your lips against his again, this time with more purpose. A soft moan ripples from Joon’s throat at the feeling of his lips on yours again. He pulls back from your lips to speak. “I’m fine Hyung.” He says to the person on the line. Now, that you’re closer to him, you’re able to confirm the sound of Manager Sejin’s voice on the other end of the receiver. A devious smirk forms on your mouth as you think of the time that Joon had decided to eat you out whilst you were on a very important call with your boss. Granted, you didn’t stop but still... You would love to pay him back for the time he spent down on his knees in front of you.

You kiss Namjoon again and he wraps his arm back around your waist, pulling you so close that your chests are touching. You’re sure he can feel the way your nipples have harden through the thin material of what you’re wearing. 

Both your hands come up to softly rest on either side of his head, holding his face in place so you can take advantage of his mouth. You tilt your head to the side and begin sucking on his bottom lip. His groan is muffle by you gently pushing your tongue into his warm mouth. He welcomes the sensation of your wet muscle against his. 

You taste so sweet to him, always so always.

As your tongue begin swirling around his, you realize that your hips have been rocking back and forth against Joon’s lap. Your bare cunt, rubbing ever so lightly against his clothed cock. 

‘When did I start grinding on this man’s dick?’ You think to yourself. 

As surprised as you were about your hips having a mind of their own, you don’t stop them from grinding and your mouth doesn’t stop moving either. You decide to drag your lips from his mouth to his jaw line. You begin peppering kisses there before bringing your mouth further down, stopping to give special attention to the spot on his neck that you know drives him crazy. “Y-yes… I’m listening Hyung…” Joon stutters out and you smirk against his skin. He grabs hold of your hips and for a minute you think he’s going to stop you from grinding against him but he doesn’t. 

Instead he pushes you down further, pushing your core against the bulge in his sweatpants. At the feeling of Namjoon’s dick against you, you fight back the moan that is creeping up the back of your throat. You are not here for you, you’re here to make him feel good.

Pulling yourself away from his neck after leaving a few bruises on either side, you take a good look at his face. His eyes are low and they gaze at you filled with desire, his lips are slightly swollen, you assume from biting them when you weren’t looking. 

He’s so fucking fine.

You can’t stop yourself from sliding your hands up his shirt. Your fingers caress the ripples against his stomach. You’ve always loved Joon’s body but since going back on tour, he’s been working out more, defining his muscles and chiseling out his usually soft features... You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the results.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon whispers his question after having moved the phone away from his ear briefly. “Me?” You ask innocently, fluttering your eyelashes. “Nothing...” You say, voice trailing off before you use both hands, still under Joon’s shirt to push him back on the bed softly. He huffs as his back hits to soft comforter. You smile before leaning back down to kiss him once again.

The kiss is more heated than the last time, all tongue and teeth. Your hips start to move on their own for the second time in the span of ten minutes. This time you can feel your wetness spreading across your pussy lips as Namjoon’s cock rubs between your folds. His hand finally slip under your robe and he grabs a hand full of your ass cheek, using it to push you down hard against him. You gasps softly against his mouth before sitting up on top of him, both hands on his chest. 

There is a sneaky smirk present on Joon’s lips. “You’re not wearing any panties?” He mouths to you with a brow raised and you shake your head, seductively bitting your lip. “I’m not wearing anything at all.” You correct him. You thought it was impossible for his eyes to get any darker but boy were you wrong. The way he looks at you with pure unadulterated lust is out of this world.

You lean back down to kiss him, never stopping the rotation of your hips. Joon is solid underneath you, hard as a rock and it feels so good to be pressed up against him like this. 

“Uh, I’m-...” Namjoon tries to speak with his mouth against your lips but it sounds muffle...  You pull back again, just enough to give him room to talk to his manager.

“Hyung, can I call you back?” He says as you sit up, placing your hands on his firm chest. His shirt has risen up, exposing the skin of his stomach and the happy trail that leads to gold. You so desperately want to kiss him there but the hold he still has on your ass and the look in his eyes keep you in place. “Yeah, I’m fine... I just need to take care of something real quick.” He says, the low bass of his voice causes your abdomen to tighten. 

‘Yes, please take care of it,’ is what you want to say but you keep your mouth shut.

“I will hyung. Talk to you later.” Namjoon hurriedly ends the phone calls then tosses his phone down on the bed. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, now with his full attention on you. “Nothing...” You say, you faux innocent look you’ve perfect over the years doesn’t fool Joon. He sits up, using one hand to support his weight while the other is still on your ass, gently messaging it. 

“Why are you giving me a heard time? I’m sure Sejin Hyung heard you.” 

You shrug, deciding to focus on something else besides the look on Namjoon’s face. 

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”

“You bad girl, couldn’t you wait until I got off the phone?”

“I guess but it would’ve been hard when you were sitting here looking so… Fuckable...” Joon chuckles, shaking his head at you. His pushes a strand of loose hair out of your face. “What will I do with you?” He asks, it’s a rhetorical questions, you know but you decide to answer it anyways. 

“Let me suck you off.” 

“Oh baby girl,” Joon starts, pulling you closer to him, so that his lips hover an inch or two away from your own. “How could I ever say no to that?” He starts. “But first,” He continues but before you can respond he is flipping you on to your back, his body in between your legs. “Would you mind if I just….” He begins slowly pulling at the tie in front of your robe.

“Take this off…”

“Joon, I..-“ 

“I don’t think so.” The two of you hear the sound of Jin’s voice. Turning your heads to the door in unison, you see the older man standing against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Namjoon asks with an expression mixed somewhere between slightly confused and slightly embarrassed. 

“I walked in on the ‘let me suck you off.’ part.” Your face flushes at having being caught. No matter how comfortable you are with your sexuality or with your boyfriends, being caught talking dirty will always be just a little bit embarrassing to you. Especially since you were never someone who was good at it or so you thought... Things changed when the boys came into your life. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You finally speak

up. 

 “I don’t know... Curiosity, I guess.” Jin shrugs. “Anyways, there will be no sucking off anyone in this house, not until after dinner.” He explains and you have to giggle at his choice of words. 

“Ah but Hyung we haven’t seen her in ages.” Namjoon whines, still on top of you. 

“It’s only been a month Namjoonie.” Jin protest. 

“A month too long... Don’t you miss having her mouth on you?” He says. “Of course I do,” Jin confesses. “Which is why we, as in all of us should wait until later. Why should you have her first?” Jin continues and you sigh, rolling your eyes at the conversation the two are having. 

“First of all, she is laying right here. Don’t I get a say in who I get to sleep with first?” You say as you begin to sit up, forcing Namjoon to remove himself from between your legs, you’re quick to push your robe down, not wanting to expose you wet cunt to world right now

“You know you do Princess. It’s your say or no say at all but I just thought since the seven of us haven’t seen you in a month…”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Now I have to think about it.” Your tone is playful as you get up off the bed, smoothing down the silk material your body is wrapped in. You retie the strings, so they don’t come loose as you walk past Namjoon’s pouty face and over to Jin, patting his chest. “I’ll be in charge during this trip... Especially when it comes to my body.” You tell him before leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Where are you going?” Joon asks, as you step out of the room. “It’s about time I put some panties on.” You say before going back downstairs to finally get dressed…  

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Well, I read the ‘sneak peak’. God I hope they cut a lot out because there were places where the pacing felt like they cut something out.

The was... a general level of ‘I think I’d have more fun beating my head against the wall’, but there were a few places where I had some things that needed to be said.

Under the cut because I’ve included the full available text in addition to my b*tchy little notes.

So I’ve just realised the whole thing +sneak peak is 14,232 words, that’s a bit excessive for a single post.

I might leave just the snark here (I chucked the +sneak peak chapters up on AO3, it’s just for more contexts.)

Prologue

Under her list of ideas, she’d written the results of her experiments.

July 6th—candles—no burns.

July 8th—camping stove—no burns.

July 10th—blowtorch—no burns.

Experimenting on herself had been scary, but not as scary as the memory of her home burning.

You set shit on fire and your only experiments thus far are: “does this burn me? How about this?” CHILD! Start with a candle, a lighter and a f*cking FIRE EXTINGUISHER and practice putting out a single flame!!!! Then: light a single candle!

Stop putting your hand in fire if it scares you! “I am this many kinds of fire proof” does not equal “control of fire so I don't hurt anyone else”!!!!

Also, the wall behind the woman had opened into a shimmering portal of light. Just another clue that something unusual was going on.

Bloom waved this off. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m magic now?”

“You always were, Bloom,” said Headmistress Dowling. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

That was enough. She might have mysterious powers that were out of control, the world might be going mad, but her parents hadn’t raised her to listen to strange adults who approached in the dead of night with what sounded like a cult recruitment speech. Bloom snorted, abandoned her sleeping bag, and made for the door.

The woman’s voice stopped her at the mouth of the warehouse.

“I know about the fire, Bloom.”

Bloom trembled like a candle flame in a gust of wind. Slowly, she turned around. The woman was watching her with a steady gaze, keen but not unkind.

“Where are you going? You can’t go home. You’re too afraid you’ll hurt your parents again.”

Headmistress Dowling was right.

Kay, so obvious magic goes unremarked upon, not even a “nice trick with the lights, is that suppose to convince me”.

Also, either someone's been stalking Bloom, or Dowling is some kind of Mind Fairy.

FIRE

Once upon a time, it was my favorite possession, the fanciest book I owned, with golden swirls on the cover. But I’d grown up and packed the book into my old toy chest along with my teddy bears. I’d thought I was long past fairy tales.

That was before I used magic to burn down my house. My toy chest and my fairy-tale book had burned, too.

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz: 01

My book of fairy tales hadn’t included a swarm of kids around my age. One long-legged, capable-looking African American chick strode by, wearing a denim jacket and carrying a bag full of athletic gear. Wait, she wasn’t African American. Fairies didn’t have Africa or America. I didn’t know the name of the fairy realm I was currently in. Also, I hadn’t pictured fairies being into extreme sports.

Another girl, pale with a cloud of brown hair, was clutching several plants to her bosom as she hurried across the courtyard. A third sauntered by, vaguely punk rock and olive-skinned and wearing enormous headphones that buzzed faintly on her ears. I hadn’t pictured fairies rocking out, either.

Oh look, this Bloom also subscribes to the: “it's not whitewashing if they're aliens” theory

There was a rangy guy with skinny jeans, overly sardonic eyebrows, and a knife-bridge nose. California had plenty of white boy edgelords, but this edgelord had an actual knife. Oh no, actual knife! I wasn’t interested in getting to know Knife Boy better.

Called out Riven.

A stunning blonde girl with porcelain skin was taking a selfie with a group of overawed younger students. A luminous wisp floated in the air, making her glossy hair shine. Talk about a beauty angle. Seemingly, fairies could create their own beauty lighting.

Bloom is gay for Stella count: 01

I sneaked a look at him and grinned. His hair had coiffed peaks like a gold helmet and his shirt was pink, which I liked because gender stereotypes were for the weak. He even had a summer tan that fishbelly-pale redheaded me could only dream of. But no matter how cute he was, I wasn’t going to encourage him.

“I guess that means we have to do this forever. There are worse things, but—”

I stopped and turned to him. “I don’t need help, but thanks.”

Now I was looking at him properly, Some Guy was very cute, with a hero jawline and a confident air. Some Guy might be cute, but I was the independent type.

By the way, it's very important you all know that Bloom is a strong independent woman™  who scoff at gender roles, because she's hip and edgy, but she's like, totes not an edgelord(!) She's cool(!) Even if she hates her super pale skin.

Some of the chandeliers in this place were so dainty and delicate, they looked like stars suspended on gilt ribbons. The rooms were large and bright, with sunbeams dyed by stained-glass windows that were as intricate as the embroidery on a princess’s hem. Much of the stained glass was different shades of green, subtly coloring the air around us as though we were in a world made of jade and emerald.

Welcome to the Emerald City of Oz?

She continued talking, full of ennui about the fairy-tale castle, while I sneaked another look at her ring. “If you ever want to go back,” Stella said as she deliberately flashed it at me. She was making some kind of power play, and I didn’t know why.

Stella might be a bitch now, but I'm pretty sure It's only because Stella is also Diaspro in this reality?

FIRE

There was a realm called Eraklyon, which sounded like a dragon clearing its throat.

I mean... that's one way to pronounce it? I guess?

FIRE

I’d do anything for my parents, including lie to them about my new boarding school in Definitely Switzerland. 

Your parents didn't ask about any paper work? They just accepted that you were moving overseas without warning? Who's paying for this alleged boarding school? Actually how are you paying for school?

We’d get dressed up and she’d play me cheerleader-type music. I remembered one chant that went Close your eyes and open your heart! The cheesy brainwashing hadn’t worked. I never much cared about frilly princess gowns, but I liked the idea of being at home in my princess castle.

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz: 02

In what beautiful blonde Stella had called the Winx suite—a bright series of rooms with tall windows and a view I couldn’t allow my parents to see—only one person got a room of their own. To my total lack of surprise, that person was Stella.

Bloom is gay for Stella count: 02

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz: 03

Really? That's how you're chosing to shoe-horn the Winx brand in? It just happens to be the name of their dorm. Sorry, their 'suite'.

When Mom, always waiting for my transformation into Ms. Popular, asked about the other girls, I shrugged. “Honestly, it’s five girls in an enclosed space, so … it’s only a matter of time before we descend into a Lord of the Flies situation and kill one another.”

So... no. Lord of the Flies is an extension of a study in relation to a very specific mono-ethnic (white), male and privileged group. It is literally young rich white boys, and the break down in community and sense of ethics that results in their single bias attitudes in the face of adversity.

The Winx are firstly female, multi-ethnic (not as much as they should be) and from a variety of socioeconomic backgrounds. If it devolves into murder, it will be vicious but it will not be “Lord of the Flies.” Find a better reference.

I busied myself with unpacking to hide my discomfort. “Ms. Dowling said there’s a fairy somewhere in my family tree? A long-dormant magical bloodline?” I sighed. “One day I will get used to how ridiculous all this sounds.”

Aisha’s surprise became wry amusement. “Oh my God. Have I just met the one person in the universe who’s never read Harry Potter?”

… why is that your conclusion? Long lost princess/prince/hero/magical heir swept up for adventure is a common trope. It doesn't make it feel any less ridiculous.

I wondered if any of my new suitemates ever felt that way. Happy bustling Terra, cool girl Musa, glamorous Stella, and Aisha who seemed so grounded.

It is so amazing how the girls that Bloom just happened to notice outside, you know, the only girls Bloom noticed outside, are all her roommates.

MIND

Terra’s super sweet voice revved into overdrive, picking up speed and frantic pleasantness on the way. “She’s just having fun. And I know it’s a lot. Shocker, Earth Fairy named Terra likes plants. It’s a family thing. I’ve got a cousin named Flora. My mom’s name is Rose, and my dad works in the greenhouse here. That’s why I know a lot of the second years. I grew up around Alfea, and—”

ohp, there it is

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz:04

“Stella’s a second year? Why is she in a suite full of first years?”

“Oh yeah. Actually … I don’t know. Some administrative thing last year? I mean, I think …”

I think you’re lying, thought Musa. She turned her back and dipped her power toward Terra, getting a faint sense that …

Somehow I doubt it was blowing up a potions lab in pursuit of a new shade of pink.

SPECIALIST

Less cool was Sky, Riven’s super annoying best friend in the whole world, who was rattling on about the ginger girl from the human world he’d met yesterday. Riven was sure she was crazy. He knew this because crazy was what Sky looked for in a woman.

So Riven is Riven and Brandon, okay.

I hate these assholes.

Riven bared his teeth. “Correction: I got high this summer.”

… : /

There was no real point trying to beat Sky. He was the best. Anyone in Alfea could tell you that … right after they told you Riven was the worst.

There was no real point, but Riven kept trying to beat Sky, anyway. Hey, nobody ever said Riven was smart.

… >:(

Sky’s dad was Andreas of Eraklyon, the dead legendary hero, slayer of the Burned Ones. Sky’s dad-substitute was Specialist Headmaster Silva, their fearless leader with the cold blue eyes and passion for early morning runs.

So many dead parents suddenly

He passed the blue, shimmering Barrier and went into the deep, dark woods. He could almost hear Silva’s voice now, telling the first years that the Barrier was their magical shield against the Burned Ones. Beware those merciless monsters with their inhuman strength and speed, never mind that nobody’s seen one in sixteen years, woo woo, so scary.

And Bloom is how old? Also: guess who’s about to start showing up suddenly! Trick question, it’s the Burned Ones, the ones we’ve already been told are the new series’ enemy.

EARTH

Their suite was called the Winx suite, which was such a cool name. Maybe they could call themselves the Winx Club?

Yep, they're going with that, okay. 

You couldn’t even name the suit Wings in the kind of obnoxious cursive that makes it look like Winx and have Bloom misread it and become a running joke amongst the girls?!?!?!

Terra nervously eyed the food laid out on the tables before them. Sometimes she felt as if food might bite her before she bit into it. She couldn’t take cookies. All the other girls in the Winx suite were so skinny and pretty. If Terra ate a bunch of cookies, people would say, “No wonder she looks like that.” But if Terra got a plate full of carrots, people would say, “Who does she think she’s kidding, when she looks like that?” It was hard to know what to do.

Wow, just, wow. Terra honey, they do you so dirty. Fat girls don't have to hate themselves, just a note for the creators. And Terra, baby, if people gonna talk shit either way, you eat whatever the f*ck you want.

(If this is not the set up for a personal growth arc in which Terra learns to not-hate-her-body and that she is worth loving regardless, and the creators really think plus sized folks just hate themselves as a constant state of being, I'mma be so unbelievably pissed off.)

She wasn’t going to hunt for her annoying brother.

Hold up, Terra has a brother?

FIRE

I still needed a breather. “Where can I go that’s the opposite of this? What’s outside?”

Cute Guy looked alarmed. “Past the Barrier? Depending on the rumors, bears or wolves or something much scarier.”

Did you not hear about the dead body? The very mutilated dead body? Sky, buddy? You're not going to bring up the very murdered and mutilated dead body in order to prevent the new girl from a foreign world (that you want to bang) from going into actual and legitimate danger? No?

I thought about Stella saying once she knew me, she’d find something to love about me.

It made me smile.

Bloom is gay for Stella count: 03

As if I’d conjured her by thinking about her, Stella’s voice rang out. “Hey, Sky. Can we talk?”

Stella was wearing her flawless new outfit and holding two drinks. Every twinkly light in the courtyard caught gold in her hair. She was looking right at Cute Guy, whose name was apparently Sky. From Sky’s expression, he knew Stella pretty well.

Yeah, Stella is Diaspro now

EARTH

Oh, for the love of … Riven was menace-flirting at some poor Specialist boy. This was Riven’s typical behavior when he felt off balance. Terra had once witnessed Riven looming at a fern in a way that suggested he either wanted to prune viciously or make out.

I... what???

“Really? Bullying the new kid? Be more obvious.”

Riven smirked, because of course he did. “Can’t bully the willing. Right?”

There was something loaded about Riven’s tone.

“I don’t know what that means!” the new boy said sharply.

The new boy was clearly feeling uncomfortable. Terra sympathized. The poor thing mustn’t take Riven’s terrible personality personally.

Well, someone belongs on a sex offenders registry. What the f*ck Terra, don't excuse this shit, it's not okay.

“But sometimes we’ve had a bad day, and a scrawny little twerp says the wrong thing at the wrong time,” Terra purred. “And all of a sudden, we’re not happy you’re talking to us. And we’re not nice. And most of all, we’re not harmless.”

“purred”, really? You gonna make it sound sensual? Let the girl Snarl! Damnit!

The vines were suffocating him so he couldn’t even talk. It was so nice and peaceful.

Terra smiled sweetly. “What’s that, Riv? I’m sure it’s clever. I just can’t hear you.”

His face turned red. He was about to pass out, Terra noted, still with that feeling of cheery distance. She shouldn’t actually let him faint. Riven would hate that.

Uhhh, so Terra might have psychopathic tendencies and maybe a dissociative disorder.

She shouldn’t actually let him faint. Riven would hate that.

Yeah, and his victim would have hated being assaulted, choke this douche.

Gods above I cannot stress how much I hate this Riven in comparison to OG Riven, and I was not OG Riven's biggest fan.

FIRE

THESE ARE THE SCENES FROM THE TRAILER!!!!!

Bloom continues to be a dumbass.

WATER

Aisha wasn’t used to Alfea, but she was used to being part of a team. 

Well someone hasn't watched the show.

How her mother and Bloom had been fighting about her social life, and how Bloom would rather fix old lamps than cheerlead.

Who is this woman, where is Vanessa? And Bloom's art thing? The lamps sounds interesting, but I've never seen sign of it yet, was it cut for time?

“It was almost like the fire had a life of its own,” Bloom went on. “I don’t remember how long I let it burn. I just remember their screams.”

When Bloom finished the story, she was clearly fighting back tears. A subtle, weary tremor went through her frame, like a runner past her endurance. It seemed like Bloom had been fighting for a long time.

“My mom was covered in third-degree burns,” Bloom said. “Because of me. And if I hadn’t gone in there to stop it? To stop what I started?” She looked completely burned out.

“Every night after that, I sneaked out. I was so scared I’d hurt them again that I slept in this creepy-ass warehouse near home. Until Ms. Dowling found me and …”

Given the Tragic Backstory™ , I'm actually a little surprised Bloom didn't straight up run away from home completely, the fact that she went back at all...

“I’ve heard the story of my birth a million times.” Bloom’s tone brooked no argument. “Miracle baby. There was a problem with my heart in the womb, but the day after I was born, it was gone.”

Aisha went cold. “Oh God,” she breathed. “You’re a changeling.”

Because Bloom needs to be even more Special™, this is doing nothing to ruin my theory Bloom is a Burned One, by the way. (Actually starting to think Burned Ones are Fire Fairies whose powers pretty much consumed them or cursed that way or something along those lines.)

So where's the “real” Bloom Peters? Was the fetus even real, or just a simulacrum to have something to switch MC Bloom with?

MIND

Stella’s tone gave Musa pause. Plus, Musa could tell Aisha was really upset. Deliberately, she let her powers turn on, and faced Stella with her eyes glowing.

I'm sorry, I thought Musa couldn't control her powers and that’s why she “has to wear her headphones at all times to block out the noise of other peoples emotions”, now she can 'deliberately turn them on'? When did this happen? Did I miss some Implications?

“You’re a Mind Fairy,” Aisha observed, but there was no other judgment.

Aisha turned to Stella just as Terra came out of her and Musa’s room.

“A Mind Fairy?” Terra repeated sharply. “What’s your connection? Memories, thoughts—”

Okay, so now we learn there are different types of mind fairies. Explain to me why Musa is an Empath with Synthetic input? ('hearing' feelings, or experiencing them in a way that registers as audio.) Is this a “Song of their Hearts” reference, because I don't feel like that was done on purpose if it is.

Only Terra was moving toward Stella, and the way she moved wasn’t Terra’s usual going-nowhere happy bustle. The way Terra moved was that of a woman on the warpath.

Musa was almost impressed.

“She was talking to Sky, wasn’t she?” Terra demanded.

“And?” Stella demanded haughtily in return.

Terra pursued: “And I know what happened to the last person who talked to Sky. I was here last year, remember?”

A crack appeared in Stella’s veneer as she shot back, “You don’t know the full story!”

Didn’t seem like Terra cared. “Ricki was your best friend, then she talked to Sky. Now she’s not here anymore. Why is that again?”

Yeah, definitely getting the feeling DiaStella isn't being held back for a Pursuit of Pink Potions accident.

FIRE

There was even more rustling than usual in the detritus piled in the warehouse corners, but I didn’t care.

Why teleport there? Is there a Rule about where Portals can go? Or is is just Because Bloom felt this was the best place to pop in?

“You don’t have to be okay,” Mom assured me. “You’re only sixteen. Being that far away is a huge deal.”

Dad said gently, “I couldn’t have done it when I was your age. Be thankful you got your mom’s bravery.”

But now I knew that wasn’t true. I didn’t get anything from my mom. No wonder I was always such a disappointment to her.

Osmosis [noun] Def. 2. the process of gradual or unconscious assimilation of ideas, knowledge, etc..

You have some damn decent parents by the sounds of this scene, even if your mother is sure you're a likeable human being who will have friends one day, why are you this way?! For the Angst points?!

Only I could see Mom through the kitchen window. She didn’t seem disappointed. She looked so happy just to be talking to me. How could I ever tell her what I did to her? How could I ever tell her what I was?

Okay, so this line is bringing back the “they deserve to know what I am” line from the trailer, and now I'm torn between “The Winx deserve to know Bloom is a Burned One” and “my parents deserve to know I'm a Magical Fire Fairy (who burned down our house) and maybe a Changeling and thus not their biological daughter technically, maybe.”

My parents told me they loved me. I knew I loved them. And I knew I didn’t belong here. Maybe I never had.

May I advise you: remove your angst blanket, turn on a light and clean the room to remove the Dark and Gritty filters of your life.

I heard faint whispers. Sibilant. Strange.

Sibilant means hissing by the way. In case anyone was wondering.

The monster was on the grate above me.

I crawled as fast as I could. The ring was on the other side of the mesh, but there was a hole just big enough for my hand to get through. I reached for the ring, almost had it.

But in the crawl space in front of me, past the barrier, the shadow of the creature passed on top of the grate. The monster bashed frantically at the grate. Once. Twice. Until with a ringing metallic crash, the monster fell into the claustrophobic space with me.

I made one last grab for the ring, but the monster slammed its hand down on it.

Oh man, if only telekinesis was one of the most basic of Fairy abilities Bloom might have been able to do something, but no, it's basic bitch elements or nothing.

SPECIALIST

I really freaking hate this version of Sky, just, so much.

Terra has her suspicions about the Stella-Sky dynamic and she just, 'oh they's in love at first sigh nothing could possibly go wrong here' hand the number over? Really?

Diaspro!Stella confirmed?

[renaroo]

Super Brothers (1/12)

Disclaimer: Superman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Child Abuse, Gender Dysphoria, PTSD and Anxiety, Character Death Rating: T Synopsis: Jon Kent knew he pretty much had the perfect family life, but something still felt wrong with himself. At the height of feeling like an alien in his own skin, however, his world got turned upside down when his parents took in a troubled child who embodied everything he felt he lacked. However, becoming a brother ended up being the smallest of the trials brought by adopting Christopher Kent. And being best friends with Damian Wayne has not exactly helped keep a neutral perspective on the matter.

A/N: I have made no secret over the last few years just how disappointed i’ve been by the treatment and reintroduction of Chris Kent, aka Lor-Zod, in DC Comics. This little guy is one of my favorite comic book characters in existence, and it feels so dirty to see what has become of him. For a while, I’ve wanted to do a story that really tried to rectify the Rebirth version of Chris and the continuity at large with the core of the character I love, so this story is my attempt at that. I can only hope that I bridge that gap gracefully.

On the other end, I didn’t want to erase Damian or Jon and all the positives I have seen with their relationship and additions to the DCU at large. For their parts in this story, I want to focus on being in the middle school age range, all the confusion that entails, and open a dialogue about issues of gender and acceptance. 

Obviously, these are a lot of heavy topics, and I am certain that despite my intentions, there can and will be things I mess up. My hope is, when that happens, you all can keep an open dialogue with me on the subjects. I want to learn and better myself and my portrayal of the issues. 

That being said, please pay attention to the warnings throughout this fic. I will touch on dark subjects, and I don’t want anyone to read and feel unprepared for the subjects broached, which is part of the reason I chose to make an opening scene that is rather dark and disturbing on some levels. It won’t be ALL dark and uncomfortable, but I want to make this plea now rather than later. 

I hope the story is still worth your read <3 Thank you for your time!

Chapter One: The Cost of Friends

Jon hates this.

At the absolute worst of times, his tiny body reminds him of just how unreliable it is. He can’t count on it, it’s not consistent — it’s not a Superman body no matter how hard he tries to fit it in as one. His limbs are gangly, his bones poke through pale kin, and his messy black hair curls untamed out from around his ears. It’s not good it doesn’t do what he needs it to do.

And at that moment, Jon’s terrified that it’s about to get himself and his best friend killed.

Ordinarily, being half-Kryptonian, Jon would easily burst through chains and bindings without a second thought. And he’s still strong, he tore through the ripe around his waist like it was taffy, but the chains keeping his legs and neck locked to the floor aren’t budging. And Jon’s getting progressively tired.

There’s something strange about this macabre carnival where he and Damian take the center ring. Of course, there is, because it’s Professor Pyg and he’s the stuff of nightmares. But beyond even that, the spotlights on them show with a heavy red glow that is making Jon sluggish and weak.

So weak that he’s less than a circus ring away from Damian and he still can’t get to him.

“Come now, come now, wait your turn,” the grotesque villain squeals in delight toward Jon. “Little Bat has been scheduled for this appointment for such a long time! You must be patient, my little bird. So patient. Everyone has their time with the professor.”

“Superboy!” Damian snarls from where he is tied up, flat and without his utility belt. He’s laying on a gurney that looks far from sanitary and, if Jon didn’t know better, it might even look like Damian is actually concerned. “Focus! Red sunlight radiation shouldn’t dull your brains as much as it does your strength!”

Blinking, Jon looks up to the spotlights again and can see, with what vague telescopic ability he still has, that there is something unusual about the spectrum of light coming from them. “Is that what this is?” he asks, voice small but filled with relief all the same.

“Oh, my, I cannot, must not, pass an opportunity to educate my subjects, inform them of their peril,” Professor Pyg pantomimes his way from the circus ring with Damian toward the center stage with Jon.

Immediately, Jon feels his body stiffen on instinct. He looks warily at the flabby, disgusting pig mask as the rest of the pudgy and unkempt professor makes his way toward Jon. He knows he should be focusing on getting free, but it’s a difficult thing to do when he’s being approached by unmitigated evil and brutality.

He isn’t sure how Damian gets his suit on every night if this is what Gotham patrols are really like.

“It is your body,” Pyg snorts and chortles.

A cold splash washes over Jon. “My body?” he repeats with wide eyes.

“Get away from him, Pyg!” Damian roars, his gurney shaking and rocking with struggle.

“It isn’t right, doesn’t fit on your bones,” Pyg bemoans, jerking out his hip and slithering his own arms around his chest and waist. He sways back and forth on his feet with a sashay of his hips. “It misses the shape of your spirit, the delicate frame of your face. And it’ll only get worse with age.”

Despite himself, Jon feels his struggle slow to a complete stop. His eyes widen as he looks at Pyg. There is a chill that travels from the base of his spine up, standing all his hair on end.

Deep inside of Jon’s chest, muscles tighten and his heart thunders. He feels a shiver move from his core. No oh no oh no oh no. HIs guts churn, his jaw trembles.

“Oh, you feel it, don’t you, that deep deep down,” Pyg continues, approaching. “You’re in the last years of it being passable, of being acceptable. Before your bones grind and the sinews snap into shapes thick and unbecoming of your gentle nature. I see what you are, in that deep deep down, because I am an artist who shapes and molds my subjects out from their souls.”

“You’re a monster,” Jon whispers, his voice giving up halfway through.

Pyg’s eyes shine with something dangerous through the outsides of his mask. He reaches forward and cups Jon’s cheek with his itchy gloved hand. Jon doesn’t even know when he got so close; when he started towering so tall over Jon.

“You’ll be one of my finest Dollotrons,” Pyg promises, rubbing his thumb just under Jon’s eye. “But your clay’s too strong, have to soften you up, get you nice and fleshy, then I’ll shave and I’ll cut and I’ll shape you right up.”

It doesn’t come off as a promise, so much as it does a threat, one that terrifies and unsettles Jon deep down within himself.

Jon’s mind draws a blank, his eyes wide and unfocused and he attempts, desperately, to come up with some intelligent response. But he can’t, not while a fear racks his every nerve and turns his muscles to stone.

It takes Jon completely and utterly by surprise when a familiar whoosh in the air flies overhead before glass crashes and electricity sparks. He catches a glance at the familiar shape of a Batarang lodged into the spotlight directly overhead.

He’s instantly overcome with relief.

Pyg releases his cheek and steps back wildly, looking around. “No! Not now! My art is not ready!” he cries out before letting loose some piglike squeals and sobs.

Looking toward Damian, Jon expects to see his friend released but is surprised to see Damian still trapped. He squints, uncertain of what’s happening when a second then third Batarang plunge into the remaining red sun spotlights.

“Batman?” Jon wonders out loud.

“Ugh,” Damian lets out in frustration before struggling with even more force against his bindings. “Overdramatic, sanctimonious, can’t believe—“

Dollotrons are racing onto the tent floor while Professor Pyg whines and bemoans his ultimate fate, but as the lights extinguish one by one, the shadows take on a new form.

She moves like a dancer, each step and hit against the army of zombified victims perfectly paced and timed. She is all in black, save for her golden accents and bat, and she spares not a single motion. A kick becomes a launch for a leap becomes a smack becomes a twirl becomes a fist to the face of the blubbering Professor. And each and every movement grows in its momentum.

Jon has never seen anything like this outside of super speed, and he certainly hasn’t seen it using the shapes and silhouettes of the shadows like a comforting show curtain. He has so many questions and so many concerns that he forgets himself and getting free. Even if he could, with his body still unresponsively slow and dulled from the radiation.

Damian, at the least, is in motion, finally getting one of his hands free and using the points of his gauntlet to slice through the leather of the other bindings. He is muttering to himself, annoyed and embarrassed based on the flush in his cheeks. It’s not a rare sight but it is unusual for Jon to see Damian this way around one of his multitudes of siblings.

The shadowy bat launches into a final attack, knocking out the last of the Dollotrons before pouncing on the escaping Professor Pyg like a hungry lioness.

With her full weight on Pyg, the Bat narrows her eyes and for the first time can really be seen by Jon as she reaches over and yanks Pyg’s disgusting mask off of his face. Her lips curl in displeasure, but it doesn’t take away from her fair features or the delicate, smooth control she has over her body.

“Wow,” Jon hears himself say as Damian reaches his side and begins pulling out a small blowtorch for the chains. “Is that your sister?”

“SHH!” Damian hisses.

Jon strains to listen to whatever is being said between the Bat and Pyg, but it gets him nowhere, only words at a time coming in clearly as his powers remain in flux. Regardless, Pyg is squirming and blubbering too much for it to matter anyway.

“Took her damn time,” Damian snarls, letting Jon lean on him as he glares toward his sister.

“She saved our lives,” Jon reminds him.

Damian’s nose curls. “Tt, debatable.”

Cassandra apparently finishes whatever minor conversation she was having with Pyg and flips him over, handcuffing him swiftly. She’s powerful and strong without losing her leanness or size, it mesmerizes Jon in a way. By the time she looks up at them, her expression has completely changed.

“You okay?” she asks them both.

“No thanks to you,” Damian says at the same time Jon gets out, “All thanks to you!”

Something approximating a smile crosses her face before she gets to her feet and reaches up to her ear. “Oracle. Done.”

Looking at Cassandra, Jon feels like he’s found yet another new hero. “Whoa, your sister’s awesome. And cool. And so in control,” Jon tells Damian, his strength returning. “You’ve got so many siblings, can I have your sister?”

“Father would be displeased, otherwise I’d say yes,” Damian huffs in that way that Jon cannot tell, for the life of him, if it’s sarcasm or not.

***

Damian watches as his friend flies off.

It took the better part of an hour as well as a stop at Big Belly Burger for Jon to feel up to the task, but the half-Kryptonian flies home after departing from them and Damian watches him go.

Cassandra, as it turns out, is also there. She leans back against her motorcycle — a sleek but redundant design, like any of the numerous other bat-themed motorcycles or vehicles any of their extended family has access to — and watches Damian more than Jon.

They haven’t had much time with just the two of them. Their paths rarely intersect. And Damian is pretty sure he prefers it that way.

His cheeks are still on fire from the embarrassment of being rescued by her.

“I would have gotten out,” he informs her, crossing his arms. “Pyg was distracted and far away from me. I was working on my restraints.”

She tilts her head at him, a frown tight on her face. “Distracted you, too,” she points out.

And Damian knows she’s right about that, he was distracted. Just the look on his friend’s face, the growing horror and dread. Jon isn’t used to the types of villains that Gotham can throw at people, the psychological toll it takes. Damian is, or at least he likes to think he is, but Jon still can be scared and surprised.

But what looks crossed Jon’s face at that moment were unexpected even to Damian. He had never seen anything like it. Jon had been soaking up every word and phrase like it had been ripped straight from his dreams.

It was enough that it frightened Damian for his friend, and he didn’t even know why.

Over the course of an hour and a Big Belly Burger, Jon had refrained from mentioning a single thing about it.

That, too, was very unlike Jon.

Such things could be dwelled on at another time, though. Damian had the pressing matter at hand of his own reckoning. And his so-called sister.

Without looking up to meet Cassandra’s gaze, Damian kicked at the ground. “What are you going to tell father about tonight?” he asks.

“Truth,” Cass answers unhelpfully.

Gritting his teeth, Damian looks back at her, eyes narrowed and angry. “That’s not fair, you know,” he growls at her. “You never come around, never work with any of the rest of us, and then you pop in and judge us from on high. No wonder father speaks highly of you. You’re just like him.”

Her brows come together in a way that wrinkles her forehead. It’s hard to read her expression, even with her modified mask and hood. “I’m not,” she says. Her words sound final, but she apparently thinks better of them and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Judging you. I’m not.”

Damian looks her over. She hasn’t moved from her bike but her arms have dropped to her side. She is looking at him rather intently and it makes him want to squirm in his combat boots.

“Tt, sure you’re not,” he finally snaps back. “You’ll still tell father that I was captured by Professor Pyg.”

“Yes,” she said too casually.

“And that I let Superboy get captured, too,” Damian glowered more at that one, his eyes rest on the asphalt beneath his feet. He kicked again.

Cassandra paused slightly longer with that one.

When her hand snaked its way onto his shoulder, Damian flinched bodily. He slapped her hand away and twisted around to get away on instinct. He hated that — no one should be able to sneak up on him. He was trained by League of Assassins, he had been prepared since before he could speak to be on guard.

But Cassandra had, too.

She looked at him passively. “Not your fault, happens,” she said, in reference to Pyg.

“That’s not what father will think,” Damian snaps.

“I’ll tell him,” she promises.

Damian stares at her for a moment, sizing her up and considering all the ways he could make her more respectful to him. But it fizzles out quickly. He knows, as much as he resists the thought, that he isn’t upset with her.

He’s upset with himself.

“In the League, they trained us that there is a cost to every relationship formed,” Damian informs Cassandra like she doesn’t intuitively know from her own history. “Partnerships, even necessary ones, would cost you heavily. They could be deadly. And more relationships than strictly necessary should be avoided. All this family and friendship that is just around me all the time now. I don’t want to pay the cost for them.” He looks to the skies where Jon once flew. “I don’t want my friend to pay for them either. It’s not worth it.”

Cassandra stays quiet, but she places her hand on Damian’s shoulder again. He doesn’t attempt to knock it off this time.

“Sometimes it is,” she tells him.

But Damian isn’t so sure. Especially not hearing it from her. Cassandra does not work with others to the same degree as the rest of their family. She doesn’t go to school. She doesn’t join teams outside of father’s pet projects. She doesn’t operate in a daily partnership like Damian has with Grayson or father.

She seems to be living by those lonesome standards that the League taught Damian. And all anyone can do is praise her.

What sort of lesson is Damian supposed to learn from that?

***

Jekuul feels oppressively hot outside of the crystal palace.

Lor has watched his parents stand, looming in the skies, over the land’s natives as they constructed the palace for them. He watched as their eyes glowed threateningly each time the native population faltered, and he remembered how easily their bones cracked and snapped when corrected by the general and his lieutenant. It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying to witness.

Inside the palace, things are smooth and temperature regulated. The pantries are stocked with foods far greater than anything Lor had tasted within the Phantom Zone, but still foreign and sometimes unexpected.

If he questions what was on his plate, he is quickly reprimanded.

So he doesn’t ask.

It should be easy, if not simple, to follow the rules at this point. Stay in the palace, eat when told without questions, listen to his lessons from the Sunstones without fault.

He is the Last Son of Krypton, and he is supposed to inherit everything the universe owed them for their lost greatest civilization. All he has to do is stay in place, not ask questions, don’t be, don’t move.

But he was not born on Krypton, nor was he born on Jekuul — New Krypton, by his father’s declaration — he was born in the perilous depths of the Phantom Zone. A prison.

Inside of the Phantom Zone, there was no movement, there were no questions, there was not being or doing or screaming or aging — that had been the only thing he’d ever existed and it was torturous.

Outside of the Phantom Zone, he thought, things are supposed to be different. He is supposed to move and change and grow, he thinks.

So even though there is every reason not to leave the palace, Lor-Zod leaves in the oppressive heat and feels the sun against his Kryptonian skin as he flies under the two yellow suns.

As he moves across the lands, the violet skinned natives of Jekuul fall to their knees and avert their eyes. They whisper and whimper in a tongue completely foreign to Lor-Zod and it feels, well. It feels good.

Lor-Zod knows that they react this way to his parents, but to have even adults of the alien race fall in reverence to him, he feels more powerful. He feels like the Last Son of Krypton that his father insists he is.

He wonders, vaguely, if it is something his father would like to see.

Deep down, Lor hopes so. Because it is easy for Lor to imagine what his father would think or say when he doesn’t like something Lor has done. He has no concept of what would happen when he makes his father pleased.

He is nearly at the end of the primitive village when Lor’s eyes fall on an unusual sight.

One of the Jekuul natives, a young female no older than Lor and having not yet earned her yellow stripes, stands and stares up at Lor. She doesn’t drop to her knees or avert her eyes.

For a few seconds, Lor continues flying, arching his head back to watch for the girl to finally do as she is supposed to but she never does.

Aggravated and surprised, Lor turns in his flight path and descends, landing promptly in front of the girl.

“Why aren’t you kneeling?” he asks before his feet are even secure.

She stares at him, head tilting. Her black eyes are large and reflective, Lor can see himself in them.

He huffs at her, crossing his arms like he has seen his father do so many times before. “Don’t you speak Kryptonian?” he sneers.

After a quiet moment, she scratches at her head and looks around. That seems to answer Lor’s question for him.

“You’re supposed to kneel,” he groans. “Look, like this,” he says, bowing down to one knee and lowering his head. He’s seen so many others do it before.

Then he hears laughter.

Lor looks up and sees the girl covering her mouth as she giggles before she gets down on both her knees and dips her body down in a silly, teetering display. A mockery. Then she gets back to her feet.

“No!” Lor snaps, getting back to his own feet and grabbing her shoulders.

At first, she stiffens, surprised, and looks at him wildly. Her hands grip onto his wrists and she seems afraid.

“Like this,” Lor repeats, then pushes down on her. He dips with her, down to the ground on their knees. But when they both lower their heads, they immediately smack foreheads.

It feels like nothing to Lor, but for the girl, she jolts back and begins rubbing at her skull.

Instinctively, just like he follows his parents’ motions, Lor reaches up and rubs at his own head. They stare at each other as they both sit there on their knees, rubbing their heads.

Then, despite himself, Lor giggles.

The girl giggles.

They both giggle.

Once the giggles subside, they are both sitting on their knees in the dirt and staring at each other expectantly. They don’t speak the same language. They aren’t remotely the same and, yet, Lor has never felt more of a need to communicate with someone in his life.

He points at his chest, at the house emblem emblazoned on his armor. “Zod,” he tells her. “Zod,” he repeats.

For a moment, the girl is quiet, absorbing his words, then she points at her chest and the purple skin. “Jekuul,” she says.

“No, not what you are,” he mutters, catching on quickly. “I’m not…” He is a Zod, though. Maybe more than he is a Kryptonian, if only in his own mind. He sucks in a breath and tries again. He points at his face. “Lor,” he tells her.

Understanding fills her expression and she points at her own face. “Ti’ahl.”

And, maybe for the first time, Lor feels a wide smile cross his face.

From that moment on, their afternoon is filled with delight.

Ti’ahl points at every structure, every creature, every plant with words and phrases that will not stop saying until Lor repeats. Repeatedly, Lor picks Ti’ahl up easily, flies her from location to location, lifts up every boulder and animal they come across as she claps in delight.

It’s thrilling — and Lor laughs more than he has ever laughed before in his life.

By the time the second sun begins to set, a chill quickly crosses the lands, and Lor can see Ti’ahl gain a shiver. It makes Lor feel bad to see Ti’ahl uncomfortable in any way.

“Hold on,” he calls to her at one point, slowing her run through the grass. He reaches up and carefully unclips his cape from his armor. Grinning, he floats toward Ti’ahl and drapes her with the heavy fabric.

After Lor ties the cape closed over her neck, Ti’ahl looks down and touches the knot. A funny look crosses her face and she looks at Lor.

Ti’ahl leaps onto a nearby rock, standing tall and crossing her arms. “ZOD!” she declares herself.

Realizing what is happening, Lor giggles and drops obediently to his knees. “I kneel!” he laughs.

At first, Ti’ahl joins his laughter, but then she becomes strangely quiet.

Confused, Lor looks up at her. “Ti’ahl?” he asks before realizing that a shadow has crossed over them both.

Heart sinking, Lor twists around and sees his father, arms crossed, standing over them both. He looks displeased.

“Father,” Lor gets out, voice thin.

“Is this how I find the Last Son of Krypton? Kneeling before his lessers?” the general snarls. He drops his hands to his sides as Lor begins to stand up and easily kicks Lor back down. “If you lower yourself in the dirt for a mongrel child, you will stay there for your leader, do you understand?”

Breath catching in his throat, Lor nods. “Y-yes, Sir.”

“To the palace. Immediately,” General Zod orders, his gaze carrying over to Ti’ahl. “There will be a price to pay for this, Lor-Zod. Let us see if you are grown enough to pay it.”

Lor cannot bring himself to look at Ti’ahl as he leaps to his feet and takes off in the air. His blood is rushing to his ears, tears building up in his eyes even before he reaches his top speeds of flight.

It isn’t until he was home that he realized he had left his cape.

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 10: Ch 5

Previous 

Summary: Significant changes have occurred while she was unconscious. One of them includes the imprisonment of Syco. Part 10 deals with the unnamed Space Explorer’s reconciliation.

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Shiitakee and I came barging back into the ship’s command center panting and sweating from cutting what was supposed to take fifteen minutes from the basement to the center by walking to a forth by running. My running companion is gripping the door frame as he tries to catch his breath. Between breaths, he mumbles how he needs to cut back on smoking as I include myself into the meeting at hand, which continues to proceed even with our unexpected, loud arrival. I take my position at Saamuki’s right. She and several Tauvoxes, high-ranking ones, including the lieutenant, of course, are looking down at the large holographic three-dimensional layout of what I can only guess is Commander Knox’s spaceship. One of the rooms, a big one, is missing. So, there’s a giant hole in the middle of the illustration. I don’t get the chance to guess what it is because when Saamuki points at it, she figures it out for me. 

“That must be where the ship’s crystal is, but why isn’t its room showing up?”

One of the Tauvoxes, who I’ve only seen one other time, which was when Syco carried the three of us back on the ship, speaks up after saluting her. “Pardon me, Commander Saamuki, but is it really wise to stage an assault on Commander Knox? They outnumber us one to ten million and most of them are our own.”

I only caught a glimpse of him the last time I saw him. Now that he’s standing to my left, I can see his brown fur has sprinkles of white and grey. His body type is similar to the others in that he is muscular and about double either mine or Saamuki’s heights, but he’s wider. His stomach is protruding. There’s a scar over his left eye, and a small metal pole has replaced the bottom half of his right leg. The captain, as I soon learn his rank, truly fits the physical description of a pirate. 

“Captain, if it comes to that, we just have to give it our all. That being said, our best option should be having a small group sneaking onto the ship and assassinating Knox while he’s busy conquering that planet. Rescue the others as well, but finding Shiitakee should be our priority.”

“Then, I volunteer to go, Commander Saamuki,” the lieutenant offered. He saluted when Saamuki made eye contact with him.  

“No. We can’t afford to bring any Tauvox with us. This mission requires stealth. Besides, you’ve proven you can keep this entire ship from blowing up.”

“That would put you at four hours if Commander Knox defeats Commander Zel in the time I calculated, which my calculations are never wrong.” This Tauvox standing right across from Saamuki would look like any other Tauvox, but his fur is longer than the rest. He tied the ones on his head into a ponytail, which looks like a wolf’s tail because of its aged appearance. He gets out a screen and tosses it towards us. Once it’s right above the replica of the enemy ship, it changes into three shapes. One is a large ball and the second is a dot slowly inching towards the larger shape. The third is a clock that shows how much time we have left. We’re at eleven hours, twenty minutes, and thirty seconds. “With such limited time, Commander Saamuki, if none of us can join you in such an imperative mission, one that will decide the fate of the entire Universe, who could possibly qualify then?” 

All these men had their eyes on her. As someone who was once a sex worker and one who still looks like one, even with her conservative outfit, the look of these men isn’t of lust. They are hungry, yes, but not for a taste of Saamuki. Instead, those eyes hungered for answers and hope, hope for their commander to make the right decision.  

The fate of quadrillions is in the hands of us—a snake possessed by some nonbinary ghost, a mushroom with a smoking addiction, and a human with a magical crown. They flew towards Commander Knox’s spaceship using Saamuki’s much smaller spaceship. Her Tauvoxes are following not too far away. Commander Knox had apparently defeated Commander Zel an hour earlier than predicted, which got a rise out of the ponytailed Tauvox. While the three of us didn’t show how anxious we are, I could feel it in the room. Shiitakee and I stayed silent. While piloting her ship Saamuki mentioned how we’re finally getting the others back, but I didn’t vocalize my excitement.

I didn’t vocalize anything because I was far from excited, even if I’ve been longing for this moment. I just sat and watched the stars fly past us, looking like lines because of how fast this tiny ship was going, with the outfit I copied from my dream using my crown. I did look at Saamuki, though. Without words, we shared something, and that was acknowledging our contingency plan. If we failed, then one of us would need to stay behind while the others escaped. The one that does would have to detonate Knox’s crystal. That would instantly kill everyone in a hundred-mile radius. Not even an overpowered Watcher could survive such an explosion, which would mean the one that would stay behind wouldn’t either. Hopefully, that doesn’t happen. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. 

Quadrant Eighty-Five. The planet is called Vecta. It’s the same as I remember it. Its moons light up the night sky, this rocky landscape, and its light glints around the edges of those ahead, on the other side of this boulder. I can see Tauvoxes, Virmuses, and other alien species fighting on Knox’s side. No signs of Skeema, Ashley, Mikrovos, or even Khavas. They clash against the Talten’s blazing weapons and the weapons of the other figures. I spot a red-painted symbol, which is glowing, on one of the wrists of the Talten’s allies. Not only may Licata be part of the fight but Sakhra too. Saamuki doesn’t know who she is, of course, but I can see she realizes the same thing I do in the case of her long-time rock friend. She turns to us with fiery blue eyes. “We have a mission. We can worry about the fight later. Come on you two while everyone is busy fighting each other.”

Saamuki, with a blaster far more superior than the ones we used in the beginning, is the one in front leading us to Knox’s ship that’s about a yard away. I’m in the middle with my dagger in one hand and my own blaster in the other. It’s just as strong as the one in her grip. Before we separated from her Tauvoxes, I watched her test them. They went through five walls of what’s been her ship for about two days now. It nearly took off an inch of the Tauvox in one of the rooms she shot through. Luckily he dodged just in time, or he would’ve joined Apulsion in the afterlife. Shiitakee is last in case he needs to omit one of his gases and is empty-handed. What he can do with that cap compensates for his lack of weaponry. 

With every step we took to bring us closer to the spaceship ahead, the louder the battle to our left became even though they continued to be well far away from us. Screams are heard as well as curses to Knox’s followers. Hundreds of blasters are going off, probably from the Virmuses, but only a Talten is heard collapsing from the shots. Horns, those from Tauvoxes, rip through flesh, and screams follow suit, but Knox’s side isn’t in complete control of the battle. I smelt flesh being burned. Some of the Taltens set a few Tauvoxes, which howled to the night sky, on fire. Sakhra’s group is pulling their weight in the fight, hitting the opposing side with their symbols.

In the corner of my eye, Sakhra’s group slaughters hundreds on Knox’s side. I can’t even imagine how many have been killed. The battlefield must be covered in bodies, blood, and whatever insects are on this planet. While over here, it sounds brutal enough; the fight taking place above our heads doesn’t seem too merciless either. Several factions of Space Pirates are shooting at each other. Thousands are probably fighting outside of their ships, fighting out in space. There must be hundreds of corpses floating out in outer space now. 

One of the ships catches my eyes. Banners stretch over their sides. Those long strips of cloth have the symbol of the Lords, which means one of the battalions has joined the fight. This must be their last stand against Commander Knox, but Saamuki’s Tauvoxes aren’t taking part in it. Knox would know we’re here if they were, but the lieutenant is in command of the ship if they’re spotted. 

Saamuki activated her screen, which has the layout of the ship. She took a moment to study it, and then she motions for it to vanish. “Shiitakee, this will take a bit. Watch out backs and,” she turns to me then continues with, “Make sure both of your weapons are at the ready in case there’s someone on the other side.” With that, she held down her blaster’s trigger, causing it to become a blowtorch. Sparks flew, and the metal groaned as its being forced to tear. I held my weapons even tighter as she got closer to finishing. When the piece finally gave way, we were thankfully not greeted by someone pointing their blaster at our heads but instead a four-sided hole the right size for each of us to easily slide into and enter a dimly lit room with flickering lights and some crates. The room must be for storage. Our leader’s eyes are fully engulfed in blue. Then, as quickly as they swallowed the rest of her eyes, they went back to just filling her pupils. 

“I didn’t see anyone in the room. So, let’s go.”

We stepped inside. The room is far more expansive than what it looked like on the outside. It’s about the size of the library, but a lot colder. Someone set the air conditioner to the max, it seems. I’m shivering even with this armor. Shiitakee is too, but not Saamuki. She has her supernatural powers to thank for that. 

For such a big room, there isn’t much in here. We walk past a few crates as tall as Shiitakee. “Those boxes are giving me the creeps. Please, can we walk a bit faster? They’re weirding me out and I’ve been friends with Syco for years.”

Saamuki jokingly remarks, “I’ve known Cabelo all my life and I have to tell you Syco has nothing on Cabelo.” 

“Cabelo? That guy that owns that whole sex hotel? That Cabelo?” She nods. “I knew you looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure since you’re you know wearing that whole get up. Never heard that you had the whole blue thing going on until, well, we met, but it’s really cool. I wish I could do what you can. I would’ve shot Syco a long time ago.”

She giggles. “I haven’t always been able to shoot fire out of my hands. My powers are recent. It has some ups and downs too.” She shrugs.

“You got to tell me the story behind it, especially how you and her met. A human. Wow. I mean Syco already told me a long time ago, but I’d still love to hear it from you two. Also, about your friends that are on this ship. Who’s Mikrovos? Syco complained about him plenty.”

I felt the tension emanating from Saamuki. She is facing away from me, but I just know the mention of Mikrovos made her uncomfortable. Her vibe is making me uncomfortable, but Shiitakee hasn’t noticed. Our backstories must’ve distracted him from his worries, but I get a terrible feeling. So, I slide the dagger underneath my breastplate, grab Saamuki’s hand, and bolt towards the door. Shiitakee follows suit but asks what’s happening while he’s trying to catch up with us. Saamuki is questioning too. Both are answered when a hand to my left smashes through its wooden container. We’ve run past it, and I try not to look back around, but it’s Shiitakee’s cursing that gets me then Saamuki to glance back. An oozy, hairless, and eyeless body goes splat onto the metal floor. Their mouth opens, or what is supposed to be one does, as strands of skin have stuck parts of their lips together. They struggle to make a noise. They muster out a groan and begin crawling towards us. Their slime spreads around them and trails behind them as they slither closer to us. When we’re right about to exit through the door, they reach their hand towards us. I turn back around and force myself, with Saamuki still holding onto me, to sprint the distance left. Once the two of us then Shiitakee finally escape, I get out my blaster and shoot the door’s control panel. Whatever it is won’t be reaching us anytime soon. 

As the three of us try catching out breaths, Shiitakee comments, “Thanks for almost leaving me back there. A little warning next time, don’t you think, but what the hell was even that? Saamuki, I thought you said you didn’t see anyone in that room?”

“I-I didn’t. It must not have a soul.” I’m hit with another sense. I look away from them. My grip on Saamuki tightens. I’m standing stiff. “What’s wrong,” she asked me.

I respond to her, “Her.” On the other side of the hallway is a red-headed figure. Unlike the last time I saw her, she’s been fitted with gauntlets that stretch to her elbows. Like before, her eyes are dead.

“Who’s she?” Shiitakee finally looks to where Saamuki and I are looking. 

“Ashely,” I told him. 

[artist-in-space]

Bask in Sunshine

Fandom: Good Omens 

Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Summary:  Crowley wakes up and realizes a few things.

Read on AO3 or click read more!

Sunlight was Crowley’s friend.

The Sun—a star, and stars were absolutely always fascinating— was the center of this system, and the Earth revolves around it once a year. It brought about his favorite season, which was spring, because it breathed life into his plants and every type of flora he’s seen around. It was the right temperature, not too cold nor too warm. It brought him warmth when the days were cold.

It was also the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

Granted, he takes grand periods of sleep sometimes, or just the human duration of eight to ten hours. Little naps in between, yes, but he’s always found himself to wake up in the morning, either in the Bentley or in his home—in his throne, or on his bed.

Thus, this morning brought several revelations.

1.

The first one was that he woke up in a very different area. Not his house. Not his flat. Certainly not the backseat of his Bentley. It was—it smelled a bit too heavenly. And it was a bit too comfortable than he would usually make his bed to be. So, it was rational of him to have a mild freak-out when he understood where he was, despite his head not being the brightest after a night of slumber.

No, this reminded him of a homey room, the ones where writers describe as old but alive, kind, cared. This area exuded something that might be love, since demons don’t feel love. Crowley himself wouldn’t even be able to detect it if it wasn’t for a certain being, a being who embodied the concept of love that he might as well have chosen to introduce it to him up front.

He detected the feeling of love around him, and he flushed in surprise.

Aziraphale, he finally surmised. Involuntarily, he tucked himself further into the bed. I’m on Aziraphale’s bed.

-

2.

The second was that he most definitely did something wrong last night.

Not the type of wrong that angels consider—that would be right, in a demon’s eyes, and right was wrong. No, this was the wrong that demons nor angels nor humans should not do, and it is where he failed last night.

The memories of yesterday filtered in his thoughts slowly, each one more vivid than that of the last. Their successful switch, their talk on the bench; their lunch at the Ritz, and… Aziraphale bringing him to his small house outside London. The way how the angel tutted at him for not telling him that he had been exhausted the whole time because the switch had taken something out of him, while Aziraphale was still full of energy.

He remembered bickering with the angel. Then the angel didn’t have any of it and then—then the angel raised his eyebrow and said, oh, let me tempt you. He had lifted his hand to Crowley’s chest and pushed him downwards. On the bed.

Tempting him to bed was what Aziraphale meant. Crowley should’ve kicked himself for being so forward and falling to the wily words of his friend. He remembered the silly grin the angel sported for tricking him. It seems like my side did win after all, you exhausted demon.

On our side, he had protested, yawning. It seemed to make Aziraphale’s grin wider. I hate you.

Then, he could vaguely remember a tingle on his lips, without his reciprocation, because he was dead to the world at that moment.

Over several millennia he had wanted to kiss the blond-haired angel—and he wasn’t even coherent enough to remember! You’re a stupid fool, Crowley, he berated himself, mortified.

Maybe that was the reason why the angel wasn’t beside him. He was sure that he was beside him when he fell asleep. He was sure that Aziraphale had been smiling at him (or he’d like to imagine to, if his hazy recollection provided truth) and wasn’t annoyed by him.

That’s certainly was what it was, right? He thought apprehensively, cracking an eye open, slowly. He still wasn’t sure what to feel this morning.

-

3.

For all of his panicking, the third one brought him out of his thoughts and into the outside world. There was an aroma filtering into the room, and he took out his tongue to determine what it was: it tasted a bit like scrambled eggs, potatoes, and mushrooms. A hint of oil, onion, garlic, and different herbs he can’t place. Then, the smell of bacon.

He was never a food person, but he definitely liked food. He liked eating, though it wasn’t his area. That was Aziraphale, the angel appreciating the intricacies of flavor and design melting in his mouth. Crowley was more of a one-gulp being, as he was a Snake and snakes tended to feed in one bite.

However, he would just say that dining with Aziraphale has definitely brought him to a level of understanding and appreciation for cooking; dining at the Ritz tended to show that. People with blowtorches for crème brulees and crepes prepared on their side was a testament to that, and Aziraphale always tended to watch how they cook.

The angel probably took himself to cooking some time ago; it was bound to happen.

He blinked, and then sat up; the smell was food being cooked.

His mouth dropped open—Aziraphale was probably cooking breakfast, in the kitchen. At this exact moment—for the both of them.

-

4.

The fourth realization followed immediately after that: they never had a meal together in the morning before, and certainly not one that Aziraphale created.

I should tell him I don’t like eating this early, he thought as he shifted a little in bed. He won’t be mad but he’s going to be grumpy if I don’t even sample a snack from his work.

…Does he even get grumpy in the early morning?

He shuffled downwards, and miracled himself clothes as he stretched into an impossible angle. He went to the opposite room—where the kitchen was—and indeed, he saw that Aziraphale was cooking. And not merely heating an English breakfast. He was also wearing an apron! Who even wore aprons in normal kitchen settings?

He was also humming a tune that Crowley was pretty sure was Queen’s, and try as he might, he couldn’t remove the smile on his face. Seeing the angel so free from any ounce of stress (and in a different setting, other than the St. James bench, or in the Ritz, or in the bookshop) was so new. If he was able to see this every morning, well, he was sure to love it now. He’s pretty sure he’s going to have more breakfasts if this is what he’d always get to see.

Of course, that was the time when the angel turned around, and well—it wasn’t like he’d calm his expression so fast.

“Oh goodness—“, Aziraphale exclaimed, pan in hand, bacon sizzling. Despite the surprise, the angel was terribly composed. “Crowley!”

The angel had a really happy grin, and he waved his spatula with his left hand. “Good morning! I made breakfast!”

-

5.

The fifth realization involved how normal this was, that they were spending time together in the morning, having breakfast, without any pretense of danger of being caught or reprimanded.

“I didn’t know you cooked, Angel.” He thought as he slid over the counter. The angel predictably clicked his tongue in a second-reprimand, but nothing more than that. It made Crowley grin; it was practically a signal to be as free as he could be. “Smells lovely.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale tilted the accumulated oil to the sink. “I’ve been practicing for more intricate meals, but I wanted to make something simple and something I knew with the back of my hand.” He scraped the bacon off the pan and put it on the plates on the dining table. “Such as those chefs I’ve watched in several restaurants. Tada!”

He looked so proud of himself. Crowley thought it was endearing, and now he felt like the biggest jerk in the created universe, because how can he say no to that face? To those bright eyes?

Aziraphale cocked his head, as if hearing his internal monologue. “Yes?”

He worked his jaw. To be a jerk or not to be. That is the question. He tried to school his face, but to no avail. “Er… how do I say this…?” He mumbled.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming around his face. Then, his lips stretched into an understanding smile. “Oh, I haven’t exactly invited you to breakfast before, haven’t I? Do you not eat breakfast?”

He looked at him in surprise. “How’d you know that? “

“Dear boy,” he softly chuckled, removing his apron and hanging it on one of the hooks installed on the side of the refrigerator. “Your eyes go fully yellow when you’re distressed, and you've been staring at the food for a while. You can tell me anything.”

Oh, he thought, relaxing but also tensing at the same time. He hadn't conjured his sunglasses, as the angel pointed out to him. Aziraphale is really clever, isn't he. He must've noticed the second he saw me, since it comes with my usual outfit.

He was that comfortable this time; and for Aziraphale not to point it out, meant that it was alright with the angel as well. It baffled him, but also made him glad. It just showed how much he trusted the angel-- not that he ever doubted him, but now it was truly cemented in his mind.

He shook his head, knowing his decision.

"I don't really it breakfast?” He said rather truthfully. Before the angel could react, he was already going down the counter.  “But I’d definitely try your cooking…” he murmured, pulling a chair and sitting. He looked at his plate and shrugged, putting food on it. He pretended not to hear Aziraphale's little chuckle.

He refused to down it in one go, of course, because even if he didn’t like breakfast, Aziraphale had cooked it for him.

-

6.

It took a few minutes before Crowley realized that Aziraphale was probably lost in his thoughts, because the angel hadn’t halved his food yet.

“Angel?” He tentatively asked, cutting his last bit of bacon. He marveled at it for a second; it was cooked just how much he liked the meat he consumed. A bit on the raw side. It wasn’t lost to him that Aziraphale had obviously cooked two batches of bacon, and he was even prouder of himself for not backing down from eating breakfast. If only it took him more than fifty seconds to eat the whole plate (and that was the slowest he could get). “Are you alright?”

Aziraphale looked at him, with a look that Crowley couldn’t figure out, before morphing into a bright smile.

“Yes! Yes, jolly good.” he said, hurriedly eating the rest of his breakfast. “Sorry, sorry. I was lost in thought.”

“You looked quite lost, yes.” He nodded. “Why’s that?”

“Ah,” the angel spoke, a blush tinting his cheeks. He patted his mouth clean. “Well, I was just marveling on how—“, he paused, before continuing with so much affection that Crowley felt physically pinned onto his seat, “—you are absolutely the most wonderful being I have ever known.”

He blinked, putting down his fork. He could feel his cheeks redden without his bidding, which, stop it. “That came out of nowhere, Angel! What—?“

“I believe you were quite half-asleep when I kissed you,” Aziraphale said resolutely, and oh, he was going over.

Aziraphale cupped his face gently and pressed a kiss on his nose. Then, he tilted his chin back and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, and Crowley’s eyes closed without meaning to. His hands involuntarily brought themselves up on the angel’s shoulders, and he could feel the warmth that radiated naturally from the angel’s holiness.

He basked in this feeling of being loved, with so much affection wrapping around them together.

Aziraphale pulled back, and Crowley slowly opened his eyes. When he did, he was met with the most breathtaking sight he’d ever laid eyes upon—the most beautiful smile Crowley had ever seen on anyone.

“My dear.” Aziraphale greeted, full of love, care, and a light feeling that warmed Crowley all over.  His eyes were bright, full of love, and all of it directed at Crowley, who seemed to draw strength from Aziraphale to kiss him one more time.

And, that was the sixth realization. In this kitchen, eating their first breakfast together, and hopefully more to come-- that his Angel was the Sun, whom he revolves around, the center of his system; that he was the one that brought his favorite season into light, because Aziraphale loved greeting flowers and plants; he was the warmth that he sought out even if they were on opposite sides. He was the comfort of belonging, the strength of believing again in something.

Aziraphale was the Sun, and he wanted the Angel to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

“You utterly sweet demon of mine,” Aziraphale murmured against his lips. Crowley had all but melted into his touch. “Good morning, my dear.”

-

Crowley closed his eyes, thinking that yes, sunlight was his friend, and he would always be happy to have it around.

But, as he basked in the first rays of sunshine, hand-in-hand with his Angel— he just knew that Aziraphale his lifelong-love.

(And if he had to experience a hundred more breakfasts, he would gladly take them. )

[dontdietwd]

Don’t Die, day 61, part 2

Merle had been quiet for the past few minutes, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew he was high, his mind probably elsewhere, and that he would return at any given moment. I sat on the pipe where he had his back onto and just observed. The group was quiet. Andrea and Jackie were side by side looking down at the street, talking quietly. T-Dog was sitting on the floor, still in pain from the beating he had received, the radio in hand. Morales seemed anxious, pacing slowly close to the parapet. Glenn had sat down on the same a few minutes ago, expressionless, but I could see his eyes dancing quickly as if thinking hard about something. The new guy – I wondered why nobody had even asked his name yet – was still where I had left him minutes ago, on the other side of the roof.

I had heard what he had old Merle about being just a guy looking for his wife and son and felt sorry for him. He seemed hopeful, or at least seemed to be holding tightly to that hope only to keep moving, but I had a more realistic mind. I knew how unlikely it was that the man would ever find them. They’d probably be gone now, dead or undead. I looked down between my knees, shaking my head. This man had better have an idea to get them out of here soon. The doors were blocked, our cars surrounded, the street looking like an ant’s nest from above. It was not safe to try and pass by them; we’d all end up dead. So far my only idea was to wait it out, the walkers were bound to give up and disperse slowly, but they could break the door before that, so it was not an option. Unless they passed flying above the walkers or underneath

Underneath.

I heard voices now, I knew the group had started talking again, but only heard them from the back of my mind. If we could find a way to pass by the walkers, maybe a way to go into the sewers…

“How’s that signal?” the sheriff approached asking, looking down to where T was sat.

“Like Dixon’s brain. Weak.”

“Keep trying,” Morales told him.

“Why?” Andrea’s tone was hopeless. “There’s nothing they can do. Not a damn thing.”

“Got some people outside the city, is all,” Morales clarified it to the new guy. “There’s no refugee center. That’s a pipe dream.”

“Then she’s right, we’re on our own,” the sheriff said. “It’s up to us to find a way out.”

“Good luck with that!” Merle drawled from his spot, making me turn to look at him. I had really though he’d been out all this time. “These streets ain’t safe in his part of town from what I head. Ain’t that right, sugar tits?” he was now looking at Andrea, who was fumbling into a backpack on the ground. I rolled my eyes knowing what was coming. “Hey, honeybunch, what’d you say you get me out of these cuffs, we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway.”

“I’d rather,” Andrea cut him off as she got up, something from the bag in hand.

“Rub muncher. I figure as much.”

My mind was only half on what I heard around. I was half glad Merle had never proposed me something like that, half still thinking of the possibility of finding a sewer to climb down.

“The streets ain’t safe…” new guy was mumbling.

“Now that’s an understatement,” Morales told him, deep frown in his forehead.

“What about under the streets?” I voiced what I’d been thinking and stood up, taking two steps to approach them. “The sewers?”

“Oh, man!” Morales’ face lit up.

“Hey, Glenn!” I called him and saw him straighten his back immediately, ready. “D’you know if there are any manholes in the alley?”

Glenn got up and ran instantly. He returned in a moment, still running. “No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are.”

“Maybe not!” Jackie, who had been quiet for the most part of time, spoke up. “Old buildings like this were built in the twenties. Big structures often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding down the subbasements.”

“How do you know that?” Glenn asked her.

“It’s my job. Was. I worked in the city zoning office.”

Silence took us for a moment while we all looked at one another. The sheriff looked at me then, raising an eyebrow in question.

“We’ll try this,” I decided. “We have to find the entrance to this tunnel. Glenn?”

“I think I might know where it is!” he smiled and ran in the quick way that he did, we all following him without further questioning.

 * * *

 The subbasement was pitch dark when Morales, Andrea, Jackie, the new guy and I followed Glenn down, only our flashlights making possible to discern anything. We stood at a guardrail, looking down at what looked like a sewer entrance. Glenn informed us it was the lowest point in the building, therefore the most probable place. When questioning who was going to go down there to see if it would work, every single head turned to Glenn, he younger and quicker one, except for me.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Andrea told him. At least, I thought, she’d had the decency to sound guilty for suggesting him to go down there.

“No, you won’t!”, Glenn answered firmly, surprising the others. “Not you.”

“Why not me? Think I can’t?”, Andrea now sounded offended, a second’s change on tone.

“I – I wasn’t…”

“Speak your mind,” the sheriff told Glenn and made me roll my eyes. I was annoyed now. Annoyed with how everyone turned to Glenn when something scary had to be done, annoyed at Andrea’s both kinds of tone, and now at the new guy trying to give heartfelt advice when he had only just arrived.

“Look, until now I always came here by myself. In and out, grab a few things, no problem. The first time I bring a group everything goes to hell. No offense. If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine, but only if we do it my way,” he looked down at the entrance and back at the group. “It’s tight down there. If I run into something and have to get away quick, I don’t want you all jammed up behind me, getting me killed. I’ll take one person.”

The new guy straightened up and opened his mouth to speak, but Glenn cut him out. At least he had tried to step up, I would give him that.

“Not you either,” Glenn said raising a hand to stop him. “You’ve got Merle’s gun and the key to the handcuff and I’ve see you shoot,” he stopped to look at me, across from him on the guardrail. “Right?”

“I’d feel better if you were out in the store watching those doors, covering our ass,” I replied and added, looking at Andrea, “You’ve got a gun, so you should go with him.”

The both of them nodded, and so did Glenn before he kept talking, “You’ll be my wingman,” he told Morales, who nodded. “Jackie and Sam’ll stay up here. Something happens, you’ll cover the entrance and yell down to us, get us back here in a hurry.”

“No,” I said and they all looked at me. I had crossed my arms, gesture they all must have known by now to mean I had my foot down. “I heard what you said, Glenn, but no. You’re running the group today, I know it, but sorry, no. I won’t get you down there. I’ll go with Morales.”

“But Sam, if something happens the camp needs –”

“I ain’t worried about the camp now, Glenn, what matters now is that we get outta here safely, and you’re the one who knows this place well enough to help get us out. I’m not risking that,” I saw Glenn start to disagree, but I knew we didn’t have much time to discuss it. “I’ve made up my mind, Glenn. You’re not going down there; I am. You stay here with Jackie. Sorry, dude, that’s final.”

Vexed, Glenn looked down, not trying to hide he was not happy with the decision, but didn’t say anything. The others nodded and I poked Morales in the arm as I passed by him on my way to the ladder. Four flashlights illuminated our way down, me first, and as the we stood on the bottom of the pit, Andrea and the new guy left to go back to the store. With a look and a nod, Morales and I walked into the sewer. There were rats – real big ones – down there, but I didn’t mind them. My wingman and I walked slowly and in silence for a few minutes, the air stale and thick made it hard to take any deeper breath.

“Hey, Sam?” Morales broke the silence quietly, but still it sounded loud down there. “What’d you make of this new guy?”

“Hard to say. Nosy, for sure. Walks in here kicking the door and handcuffing people to the roof.”

“Do you think Dixon was gonna stop?”

“Think so. I got my own problems with Merle but we manage. No way we’ll ever know now.”

“Guy’d better find a way to get us outta here if the sewers don’t work. We’re trapped in here ‘cause of him.”

“Ya damn right. Not that he did it on purpose or anything, but is still on him.”

“So, d’you think we like him?”

I turned my head a bit to look back at Morales, understanding that by ‘we’ he meant the whole group.

“Not up to me, Mo. Ya wanna like the guy, you like the guy. I don’t dislike him, if you wanna know, but I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Guy reminds me of Shane a little,” Morales told me. “Like it’s on him to take charge.”

“So we’ll be fucked. Two cops banging on their chests? Don’t see how this gonna work.”

“Hey, is that a door?”

At the end of the tunnel, a heavy looking metal door closed the way. Morales stepped up to open it, he had to use his shoulder weight to push it open, but it didn’t offer any more trouble. Inside, the air was even thicker, the smell of something dead hitting us like a punch. Morales and I looked at each other and nodded, agreeing how careful they had to be. Across the small area there were a few steps down and, finally, a round hole closed with iron grid.

“Yeah, we got ourselves a sewer tunnel. Jackie was right.”

“Can we cut through it?” I asked as I touched the iron. It seemed awfully strong.

“If we have a blowtorch and half a day, sure. Dale’s hacksaw sure as hell won’t do it.”

Unmistakable sound or growling reached our ears then, among rat’s squeaking, making us both take a step back from the grid. A walker inside, still chewing on a rat, tried to get to us, his arms crossing the grid, face pressed onto it. Another walker joined it then, and by the sound of it, there were more approaching.

“Well, fuck,” I said aloud over the walkers’ moaning. “Ain’t a good idea to spend half a day to open hell’s gates.”

 * * *

 Silence was once again over us, but the tension was more palpable than ever. The first glass downstairs had been broken by the walkers, who were working insistently on breaking the second one – the only thing separating them from our group upstairs – as we looked down to the street, thinking hard. The sewers had been a dead end, as Morales and I regretfully told the others when we returned. Thunder rumbled in a low threat above our heads. The new guy had a pair of binoculars in hand and had been looking around for a couple of minutes now, quietly. I was by his side on the parapet and he handed me the binoculars as if in a kind of sudden revelation.

“That construction site,” he pointed to it making me look in that direction. “Those trucks, they always keep keys on hand.”

“You’ll never make it past the walkers,” Morales said by our side, shaking his head.

New guy looked past me and Morales, to Glenn. “You got me out of that tank.”

“Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted,” Glenn tried to dismiss it.

“Can we distract them again?”

“Right!” we all turned to look down at Merle, handcuffed. I’d thought he’d been sleeping or something, he had been so quiet. “Listen to him, he’s on to something! A Diversion, like on ‘Hogan’s Heroes’!”

I had no fucking idea what Hogan’s Heroes was, and by Glenn’s looks, neither did he. I assumed Merle had not said something good, as expected, by the other’s reactions. The sheriff, though, only moved on.

“They’re drawn by sound, right?”

“Right. Like dogs,” I told him. “They hear a sound, they come. Is why your bullet got so many of them on our asses.”

“What else?”

“Other than by sound?” I snorted a laugh. “They see, smell, all the works, like any person but dead. Man, have you been in a coma or something all this time?”

“They can tell us by smell?” he asked, ignoring my question.

Glenn laughed nervously, “Can’t you?”

“They smell dead, we don’t. It’s pretty distinct!” Andrea also had the unbelieving tone on her voice. None of us understood how this guy had survived so far without knowing this basic information about the dead. The dead, though, were almost invading the store by now, so there was to spare time to talk about this. We had to get out, and fast.

He looked around, at each of us, and even though nobody knew this man, it was written all over his face that he had an idea, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“What?” I asked him.

“So if we smell and look like them… They won’t see us. Ain’t that right?”

Nobody answered, but Andrea laughed it out, Glenn looked nauseous and the others seemed just ultimately hopeless. But damn. A light bulb turned on atop my head. What a fucking good idea!

“Wait, guys,” I told them and the man looked at me, the glint in his eyes sparkling more. “It makes sense! Just, I mean, got no idea of how doing it –” I paused, ideas dizzyingly flowing around my mind. “Guts, you think?”

He smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

 * * *

 He didn’t want to do it, it was clear. The idea of slicing and digging though a walker’s corpse with axes had been ok in theory, but now as we all looked down at the walker – one T-Dog had beaten to death with a baseball bat earlier – the idea seemed much more stupid. I stood away with the other two women. Not that I was showing or telling anybody, but my stomach was complaining loudly at the mere idea of what the men were going to do now.

The kid didn’t like guts, apparently.

They had paid their respects for the man that walker had once been – Wayne Dunlap, and he was an organ donor – and now there was nothing else to do but gut him. Exclamations, disgusted sounds and something in Spanish followed the first blow and kept coming for as long as the sheriff dug into the corpse with the axe he had taken from the wall. It had been decided I was going with him; we were already wearing a beige robe over their clothes, ready to the gore shower. I was breathing hard while it happened, as intestines and other indistinct, putrid smelling human organs were exposed and turned to pieces.

“I am so gonna hurl…” Glenn moaned across from me, reflecting my thoughts.

“Not now, please, Glenn,” I told him despite my own nausea.

“Everybody got gloves?” the man asked as he stopped a bit sweaty. “Don’t get any on your skin or in your eyes.”

Reluctantly, all the others started shoving their hands into the walker’s guts and pulling pieces and gooey things out to rub on us both, all the while complaining. It took no more than a minute for Glenn to let go and turn around, away from the others, to throw up. The sound and smell of it, combined with the few pairs of hands rubbing gore on my clothes triggered my own nausea. I shoved the hands away and also turned away.

“I can’t!”, I without taking a moment to think. “Oh God, I can’t!” and went on for a second round.

So now, after I had shrugged off the robe and it was wrapped around Glenn, who recovered from the nausea as I simply didn’t, I felt so angry I almost cried. I knew I had to be the one to go with the sheriff, I didn’t want anyone else to do that in my place, especially Glenn, but as I retreated to the other side of the room to hurl for a third time, I knew I didn’t have a choice. Glenn and the new guy – I wondered why I hadn’t still asked about his name – were now covered in red and black matter and Andrea was handing Glenn her own gun.

“What about Merle Dixon?” T-Dog asked the man and, after a second of thought, he fumbled under the dirty robe and into one of his pockets to fish out the handcuff key. He handed it to T, reverently, and the other man nodded, gravelly. Oh, god damn it! The keys should be with me, it would be my responsibility to set Merle free when the moment came, but now they had restarted the process with the remaining guts of the walker, and I couldn’t look or talk anymore. I had nothing else to throw up now, but the kid was still extremely angry with the scene.

 * * *

 “Hey, what’s happening? Sam?” Merle yelled hoarsely as soon as we returned to the roof, running to the edge to look down the street.

“T, try the radio again!” I instructed instead of answering.

“Hey, come on! Talk to me, yall!”

I looked at him only long enough to see Merle seemed a bit soberer than before, his words less slurred. I kept running to the edge, though, as T-Dog’s voice trying communications again sounded through the roof. Morales found Glenn and his gory companion down the street in a moment, pointing down at them, followed closely by a loud thunder echoing down, as if on cue.

“That asshole’s out on the street with the handcuff keys?”

T-Dog held the key, toying with it for Merle to see. His face showed the dread of being literally on T-Dog’s hands after having beaten him up. Merle looked directly at me for a moment, but I didn’t say anything, turning to look down again. Maybe it would be good for him to feel fear once in a while.

“Hello!” a crackling voice sounded over the radio, making everybody silent and turn towards it. “Hello? Reception’s bad on his end! Repeat!

“Sounds like Dale,” I whispered, afraid my very voice was going to make the connection fail. There was more static and a few lost words, but it was more than they had been able to get until now. “Just tell them what’s going on, maybe they’re listening.” I told him a little bit louder.

“We’re in some deep shit,” he started. “We’re trapped in the department store. There’re walkers all over the place, hundreds of them! We’re surrounded”.

Nothing followed it. Dale’s voice didn’t sound again and, slowly, even the static stopped.

“Good, now they think we’re dead,” Andrea whined as she turned to the edge of the roof again.

“Hey!” Merle yelled again. “The fuck’s going on?”

“Shh, Merle!” I turned to him. “We don’t know! They’re just walking to the construction site, nothing else!”

What followed were minutes of desperation. It had started raining, a quite strong shower, which seconds later made the two of the man down the street start to run. Tens of walkers ran after them, almost as fast, having scented they living flesh. Up on the roof, there was nothing anyone could do, and I dreaded the moment I would see Glenn get caught and eaten right in front of our eyes. They were far now, jumping over the construction fence only a second away from the walkers’ jaws. The fence fell even before they reached the truck they had been aiming for and it was possible to see them entering and closing the doors a breath away from being reached by the dead. The truck sped away immediately, leaving our line of sight.

“They’re leaving us!” Andrea cried.

“What? What?” Merle reacted from his spot.

“No, no! Come back!!” Andrea kept going.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Andrea, shut up!” I snapped. “They won’t leave us, are you crazy?”

“Do you see them?” the blonde, crying woman turned to me, and pointing somewhere out the building. “They’re gone! They know there’s no way out, they’ve left us!”

“They are coming back,” I stated firmly and looked at the others, who also had desperation on their eyes and back at Andrea. “They’ll be back! Quit being such a fuckin’ drama queen.”

It took less than two minutes for the radio, still on T-Dog’s hand, to creak alive. “Those roll-up doors at the front of the store facing the street?” Glenn started nervously but speaking rather clearly. “Meet us there and be ready!”

Hopefulness repapered on everyone’s eyes and, without saying more, we all started gathering our bags in a hurry. With two backpacks over my shoulders, I turned to Merle, only to see all the other run towards the door, including T-Dog, accompanied by Merle’s desperate screams as soundtrack.

“T-Dog!!” I yelled as loud as I could. “Get your ass back here with that key!!” Anger raised to my throat, reddening my face as I saw my supposedly friend look between me, Merle and the door, doubtful if he was really going to go back. “Gimme that fuckin’ key, T-Dog, or so help me God!!”

He turned and ran to me, finally. Everybody else had vanished through the heavy roof door and I was still close to Merle, I hadn’t been able to take a single step towards it. As T-Dog approached and Merle still yelled desperately, his voice hoarser and hoarser, he took the key out of his pocket. It flew out of his hand in a moment, so fast I could barely follow its motion, as T-Dog tripped and fell to heavily to the ground. They small key disappeared into one of the drain holes, followed by a frantic wail of “No!” from Merle.

“Fuck!” I cried, hands raising to my head. “No, fuck! Fuck, T, the fuck did you do?!”

“Son of a bitch! You did that of purpose!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Fuckin’ liar! You threw it on purpose!” Merle kept on furiously.

“It was an accident! I’m sorry!” T kept apologizing as he walked backwards to the door, and then turned and ran away.

“Fuck!!” Merle cried, unintelligible words of rage coming out of his mouth as he fought the handcuffs, strongly enough to draw blood from his wrist.

I joined him; backpacks forgotten on the floor as I sat down and started kicking the pipe with my heels. It didn’t even make a scratch.

“Stop it, ya fuckin pussy!” Merle yelled at me, his free hand pulling me away from him. “Ya gotta go. Go, get the fuck away from here!”

“I ain’t leaving ya here!”

“Yeah, y’are! They’ll leave ya here too, go!”

“No, Merle! I ain’t leaving you alone here! They’ll – I don’t – They’ll come back for us.”

“They won’t!” he shouted to loud that a vein on his neck seemed to pop. “They not coming back, ya gotta go! Go, get the fuck outta my face!”

“Merle –”

“I don’t want ya here, Georgia!” he spat and actually foamed out of his mouth, getting up as best as he could with a hand attached to the pipe. “Leave me alone! Go, now!”

“Geor – ” I started, confused.

“Aren’t ya listening to me? Go! Go! Get lost, Georgia, now!”

“Okay!” I finally cried, getting up bringing the bags with me. “I’ll go but I’m coming back for ya, Merle, me and Daryl, we’ll come back!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care, GO!”

Fighting the urge to cry, I ran, Merle finally going quiet. As I crossed the door, I saw a chain that had not been there before, with a heavy padlock hanging with it on the door handle. Relieved someone had taken the time to put it there before fleeing, I locked the door behind me, still taking an extra second to make sure it was firm in place, before flying down the stairs.

There were walkers inside the store, having just broken the glass. I stopped for a second, “No, no, no…” before making a mental line from where I stood to the door that would lead me to the doors Glenn had spoken about. Holding the bags firmly around my shoulders, I set to motion, running right towards the walkers. Two meters away from the closest one, I took an abrupt turn to my left, a still empty area and had to climb up to a counter, running on top of it, avoiding walkers’ hands by inches. Closer to the door, I was able to fall back to the floor and run. The others were there, on the side room, throwing the last of the bags into the parked truck, yelling incoherently. T-Dog took my bags before motioning me to take his hand so he could help me up. With an angry frown, I rejected it and climbed in by myself. The truck doors were still open as it took off, the sweaty, smelly sheriff driving it away. Morales closed them and we all sat down, heavy breaths and the nearly audible sound of our heartbeats.

After a moment of silence, the others started looking abound, confused, especially at T-Dog and me. Bile rose to my throat once again, at him for dropping the key, at the stranger for handcuffing him in the first place, and even more at myself for having let Merle bully me into leaving him there. Fucking dammit, I had just left him behind!

“I dropped the damn key,” T-Dog explained bitterly, and what happened had become quite clear. We had just abandoned one of theirs.

Silence took the truck, exhaustion winning over words. Morales was having a quiet conversation with the sheriff on the front seat, but I couldn’t listen. I had lain down on the floor of the truck, an arm draped over my eyes. Glenn had passed by us minutes ago with his sports car, alarm buzzing loudly, cheering in joy. I didn’t blame him. We had gotten out, half by his brave actions, and he hadn’t just been forced to abandon a friend behind.

A bit calmer now, I felt my stomach complain by the motion of the truck and my position, but I couldn’t bring myself to move, my mind worried about something else. How on Earth was I supposed to tell Daryl about what had happened? About me going even though he had asked me not to? About not being able to control Merle? About him being there, even now, alone and handcuffed on the roof under the sun? I was apprehensive over his reaction with the others, but dreaded the possibility of him hating me. What the fuck was I gonna do if Daryl turned away from me?

It took less than expected go get back to camp. Truck parked close to the end of the road, Andrea was the first one to slide out, running to reencounter her sister. Morales, also eager to see his family, was just as fast.

“Hey,” I turned to see the sheriff approach me behind the truck, the others already away. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For your friend.”

“Yeah? Are you really, new guy?”

He rested his hands on his hips, looking down but with eyes still on my face. “It was never my intention to leave him there. I just wanted him to be in control.”

I breathed out, annoyed, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fuck, I know that. I know alright? I don’t blame you for doing that. But, fuck, he is there now, trapped, and it is because of that. Just a fact.”

“Hey! Helicopter boy!” Morales voice sounded over the reunion and conversation that had been going on nearby, making us both look in their direction. “Come say hello!”

He looked again at me as if asking for permission or what to do. “Just go,” I told him and turned to get my backpacks. I felt like crying, exhaustion hitting me like a wrecking ball. I knew Daryl wasn’t back from his hunt yet, it would most likely happen tomorrow. It was good, I thought. At least I would try to get some sleep before having to deal with it and probably lose one more friend.

My thoughts were interrupted by a child’s cry, squeaky and happy. Carl’s voice, I recognized. Turning to look, I saw him throw himself over the new guy, who was now on the floor, crying, clinging to him. It made sense when I looked at Lori, her eyes, which were naturally big even wider now, filled with tears. In a moment the three of them were hugging. Over their shoulders, he was now looking at Shane, who had a confused smile on his face, and the whole camp understood. The new guy was Rick Grimes.

 * * *

 I hated that Carol had to help prepare dinner and then take her part and her family’s and go sit away from the others, not being allowed to socialize, talk like everybody else. Ed made her sit away, Sofia in tow. The low fire creaked n the middle of the group, quietly listening to Rick tell them what had happened. He had woken up from a coma in the abandoned hospital, completely unaware of what had happened – exactly like I had unintentionally guessed up on the roof. Now it made sense why he knew nothing about walkers. He had gone home and then back to Atlanta and that had been when they met, never once imagining that his family was back at the camp. Lori had told me Rick was dead, that Shane had seen his body. Now, as Rick spoke, wife and son wrapped around him, I observed Shane’s expression, or lack thereof. Nothing other than his wide eyes gave away anything he was feeling. He smiled a bit every time Rick looked directly at him, but his smile vanished as soon as he thought he wasn’t being watched. Making a mental note to observe him even closer than I always did, I decided something was definitely going to come out of this.

On the other little group, Ed placed an extra log on their fire and it rose up, light strong enough to call attention. Shane looked at me. That was supposed to be my kind of responsibility.

“Damn, Shane, could you take care of it?” I asked him, happy to give him something to do other than watch as his best friend took away the girl he had been seeing. “I just can’t deal with fuckin’ Ed right now.”

“Sure,” he said as he got up, seemingly grateful for having a chance to direct some of his feelings. He got up and the group remained in silence for a moment, the creaking of the firewood the only thing to be heard. I could feel the weight of stares on my direction.

“Sam?” Glenn broke the silence with an almost whisper, two spots away from me. “You okay?”

I looked at him for a moment before answering, clearly aware of all the eyes on me. Bitterness coating my eyes and voice, I finally answered “My friend’s just been abandoned handcuffed to a rooftop in a walker infested building. I ain’t okay.”

Glenn tried a sympathetic smile, but failed miserably, making me almost feel sorry for him. Nothing of it had been his fault; he went out there, risked his life covered in walkers’ guts to take them all out of there. That was something I would never forget.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl?” Dale asked me carefully. “He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind.”

Before I could laugh and tell him ‘no shit’, T-Dog answered his question. “I’ll tell him. I dropped the key; it’s on me.”

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine,” Rick cut matter-of-factly.

“It’s not a fuckin’ competition!” I told them both with a bit more force than intended. Before moving on, I breathed once and continued a little calmer. “He’s not gonna wanna hear it from the one who cuffed and the one who lost the key.”

“I did what I did. Hell if I’m gonna hide from him.”

“We could lie.” Amy, leaning against her older sister’s shoulder, barged in.

“Or you all could stop pretending you actually cared for Merle or even for Daryl,” I gave up on hiding my annoyance. I looked at Amy, “Lie, really? Is that what you’d all do if I wasn’t here?”

“We’re telling the truth”, Rick spoke as firmly as me.

“Merle was out of control,” Andrea also opined and looked at Lori. “Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary, and if Merle got left behind, it is nobody’s fault but Merle’s.”

“Right, I see,” I spoke again. “None of you waited. You all just ran away from the roof, ignoring his screaming for help. If I remember right, Andrea, you were the first one out of the door. If I didn’t plead for T to come back with the key,” I looked at him, “you’d have left as well. Dropping the key was an accident, but you weren’t even gonna go back to try. So, please, do not tell me being left behind was Merle’s fault. All the rest, yeah, but not this.”

“I was scared and I ran. I’m not ashamed of it,” T-Dog answered my accusation. “We were all scared, we all ran, and for what I see, so did you. You’re here, ain’t you?”

“He made me run. Even high and desperate he knew I’d also be left behind if I didn’t run. Or would you guys stop, or even think of turning back to get me? I did run, yeah, but I stopped long enough to chain that door.”

“Thought you would…” T said, calming down a bit, lowering his voice and looking down. “It was on the floor, by the stairs, I got it and hung on the door, thought you’d lock it.”

“Yeah… Thanks for that…”

“Hold on…” Andrea whispered. “What does that mean?”

“Staircase is narrow,” Sam started explaining. “Few walkers may have climbed it, not many, not enough to break the chain.”

“No. Not that chain. Not that padlock,” T-Dog continued my thought.

“It just means that Merle’s still there. Alive, abandoned on the roof, alone and handcuffed. That, no competitions for who’s the guiltiest – That’s on all of us.”

Painful silence stretched around the fire. I felt my throat constricted, wondering again how I was supposed to tell it to Daryl. T-Dog got up holding his ribcage, looking like he might throw up. I had to get out of there as well, and knew nobody could possibly say anything of use now.

“We’d best be getting of”, I informed after a moment. “Was a long day for all of us. Everyone who hasn’t been to Atlanta today should take the rounds, we’re wracked. That ok?”

Nodding, the others agreed and started vanishing to their own posts or tents. I didn’t want to think of anything else, not tonight. Entering my small, orange tent, I dropped to my bed without even removing my shoes, passing out rather than falling asleep.

[aweebwrites]

Celestial Influence 6

Pt1

_______

'Tell him we know. But he isn't to blame.' The hologram of Ed says and Jay unconsciously floated closer.

'It's none of your faults. You're all ninja. You would never have let what happened happen if you had control over it.' Edna says next and Ed nodded. 'It may not mean much from us but… You're all still the ninja we know and love.' She managed a smile, brushing stray tears away as a tear fell down Jay's cheek watching them.

'You know it!' Ed grinned as more tears fell down Jay's cheeks.

'It means more than you think.' Cole's voice came, the hologram just showing his parents still. 'Thank you. We'll bring Jay back. Don't worry.' He reassured them and his parents nodded, smiles bright before Zane cut the transmission.

"Jay…" Nya says softly, floating over to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Could we…" Jay spoke up then sniffled. "Could we go now?" He asked in a small voice.

"Of course." Zane says then reached his hand out to him.

Jay slid his hand into his, holding onto it then took Nya's. Kai took hers as Cole took Zane's as the Falcon landed on Zane's shoulder. In a flash of lightning, they all vanished.

_______

"Finally finished." Ed says as he stepped back, smiling at the large, metallic statue of his son, the seems welded together and pressed flat to give it a smoother finish.

He sighed as he looked it over. It only made him miss his son even more.

"Have faith Ed. The other ninja will find him." Edna says as she walked over, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I know they will." He says with a small smile then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

A bright flash of light followed by a loud clap of thunder broke through their moment, startling the duo. They turned around towards the Junkyard entrance and Ed's blowtorch fell from his hand to see five of the ninja there, including…

"Jay…" Ed whispered as the lightning ninja, their son looked at him almost shyly.

"Hi mom… Dad…" He spoke quietly.

That was all the couple needed.

"Jay!" Edna yelled as they both rushed forward, pulling their son into a tight hug.

The ninja watched the heartfelt reunion, their hearts twinging as Jay began sobbing, repeating sorry over and over again, even as his parents comforted him, telling him he wasn't to blame. It made them think about their own parents. While Zane's father was gone, he knew without a doubt he would say the same and the thought warmed his core. Cole saw the disappointed look on his father's face before he left to the underworld. He knew he blamed him and it hurt deeply. Nya and Kai… They wondered what their parents would think. They haven't visited in so long… And even before then, they don't know them very well to even guess what they might think. Both siblings shared a look. Maybe they should visit soon…

__________

Kai sat alone outside that night, atop a pile of scrap metal. The moon was almost full in the sky as stars glittered about. It was really beautiful out. It reminds him of nights he spent at the fire temple gazing up at it with the temple itself opened all the way up. He didn't use the upper levels which made his skylight possible from the ground floor. But now that the others were around, maybe he should renovate when he gets back. For now, it's just…

"What's with the long face?" Nya asked as she landed soundlessly beside him, sitting against the hood of the old car as well.

"Oh. I didn't tell you or Jay yet." Kai says, glancing across at the now confused Nya. "I've had company back at the Fire Temple. They're four dragons I made somehow." He says and Nya looked intrigued.

"I figured they're different parts of a flame. Or different colours really." He says, creating a flame in his hand. "There's Flare, Spark, Solaris and Heath's the youngest." He says, separating the different colours as he listed them to describe them so he had red, orange, yellow-gold and blue flames burning separately before allowing them to vanish.

"If you made them then they sound like a handful." Nya says with a small smile.

"Surprisingly, they're all well behaved. Flare is a bit of a softie. He's still figuring out standing up for himself. Spark is eager and always ready to play. She's headstrong and accidentally bully's Flare most days. She's really sweet and confident though. Solaris is the quiet one- Skies above. I can't use that term without flashbacks." Kai says with a grimace but pushed the memories back and pushed forward. "She's curious about everything but wouldn't go off on her own. She usually sticks close to Heath. Speaking of, Heath my be the youngest by about a minute when compared to Flare, but he's overprotective of them all, even though he acts all cool like his colour and intimidating. He's a jerk but he'd never do anything intentionally harmful. Maybe lick me or take up my best when he has his own but nothing too harmful. I left him in charge. I know he'll keep everyone together and safe but…" He trailed off as Nya watched him.

"But you miss them." She said for him and he looked at her before nodding.

"They're still young. Three months old to be exact. I would bring them but I want them to grow a little more first. Get stronger. They're great fliers so far but they still get tired pretty quickly compared to our elemental dragons when we had them." He says, looking out again.

"They'll get there soon enough. Don't worry." Nya says, giving his shoulder s squeeze and he sighed then nodded.

"Yeah. You're right." He says and she smiled.

"Come on. Dinner's ready." She says as she stood.

"Nice." He says, accepting her hand and she pulled him up. "Do you think Lloyd's alright?" He asked her as they headed towards the trailer home.

"Yeah. Lloyd's a smart kid. He's safe at least." She reassured.

______________

"Well, it's time." Cole says the next day as they all stood outside the trailer, night now upon them.

"You promise to visit every once in awhile?" Edna asked, nervous to let Jay go again.

"Once a week at least. I promise." Jay reassured his parents, back to his old self mostly now that some of the guilt they all should has been lifted off his shoulders.

"Good. Now go find your friend." Ed smiled and they all hugged.

"I'll do the honors." Kai says as he stepped forward then allowed his hands to glow red.

Seconds later, small fireballs shot across the sky at random intervals as Zane stepped forward, his hands glowing light blue and they watched in awe as the same blue coloured the full moon. Nya summoned her powers and grinned at the blue toned rainbow around the full moon. Jay took his cue and summoned his powers, allowing light began to flash across the sky. Cole's hands glowed as well, creating low thunder that echoed across the sky. They all waited with bated breath- then grinned once the bright green aurora borealis streaked across the sky.

"Quick! Follow it!" Nya yelled and they all took off as quick as they could, following the aurora towards the source.

"It seems to extend beyond the shores of Ninjago." Zane says, plotting the space between what he could read and the land.

"Crap, it's disappearing!" Kai yelled as they flew quicker, the aurora visibly weakening.

"Zane can you track the origin location?" Jay asked him and the Nindroid remained quiet over the wind as they darted quickly through the sky.

"Nononono! No!" Cole yelled as it flickered away to nothing, leaving them just over the beach with no sure direction to go.

It wasn't as if the aurora ran in an exact straight line after all.

"That won't be a problem. I've located the area where the aurora originates." Zane says and they all sighed, relieved.

"Well? Where is he?" Nya asked him.

"... The Dark Island." Zane informed them and they all looked at him horrified.

"The- the Dark Island?! Why there of all places?!" Jay sputtered.

"Think about it though. No-one lives at the Dark Island. No chance of hurting anyone if his powers slip up. It's perfect." Kai says but wore a frown that showed that he wasn't happy about it.

"Forget that for now. Let's actually get going. We'll discuss when we get there and make sure he's ok." Cole says and they nodded, taking Jay's hand then each other's.

They vanished in a flash of light then reappeared in the remains of Garmadon's old camp on the island.

"Nice place to start." Kai says and Zane immediately went to check the pool of dark matter.

"Untouched it appears. I don't see any recent footsteps so he hasn't come this way." Zane informed them.

"Ok. He isn't here. Cool. But if he isn't right here, where else would he go?" Jay asked and they all paused to think then gasped.

"The Temple of Light!" They all blurted.

In the next few seconds, they arrived before the temple that looked noticeably shinier. They shared a look before Cole pushed the door open. They all peered inside then gawked at the sight before them. Inside was actually furnished and looked homey. The bell and space below was obviously a meditative area with the area around it holding tables, strange yet beautiful flowers, scrolls on a shelf, paintings and a seating area, a single, large couch turned towards a tv with a gaming station. The lanterns inside bathed the area in soft, golden lights. On the couch was Lloyd, fast asleep. He wore a green hoodie that was a size too large as well as gold coloured sweatpants. His hair was all ruffled up but what really surprised the ninja was who he was sleeping against. Lloyd was comfortable asleep with his head in Garmadon's lap.

They couldn't say which Garmadon since this one had all the black skin, markings and four arms of Lord Garmadon… But the gray hair and soft expression of Sensei Garmadon. Said man looked at them from the corner of their eyes and lifted a finger to his lips to hush them while beaconing them in with another hand.

The group shared a bewildered and confused look but they did come in, carefully and quietly closing the large door behind them.

"... I have several questions." Jay whispered and Lord Sensei Garmadon only smiled.

"All will be answered in due time." He whispered back. "For now, rest. Lloyd has had a long day." He says, stroking his son's hair fondly.

The team shared another look before shrugging. They grabbed folded blankets from the basket on the table as cushions from the couch then found comfortable spots on the ground to settle down for the night. They all chose to settle relatively close to the father-son duo, keeping in close contact with each other.

Kai had no clue how Sensei G became Lord Sensei G or how he got him to be almost normal again OR how he even found him to begin with, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. After everything they've been through, Lloyd deserves a break from everything. He yawned as his eyes began to fall shut.

Infact, they all do.

______________

CI1

CI2

CI3

CI4

CI5

______________

(So I was intending on doing 7 total parts for this series but I'm gonna extend it 9 because fic length. Also Garmadon just appeared. He wasn't going to be in the series at all but ah. He is now. Thanks for reading!)

[iridescentseawitch]

CH. 25 Here To Stay

Chapter 25 of my MysMe Fic - Star Crossed Entertainers This chapter has a lovely piece of art done by the magnificent @irageneveart and I cannot thank her enough! This fic is also on AO3 under the username: MonotoneManday. Enjoy!

"Hey! It doesn't look half bad!"

Samantha glared at Seven. He put his hands up in surrender and Vanderwood nudged him with a hard elbow.

"Really, it's not half bad."

"Give me more credit. You both just put me in a situation where we had to blowtorch half of my hair off and I cut it myself to get this result." Samantha held up a mirror and swayed her hair side to side. "It looks damn good."

"Well that means more easy to forgive!"

"We don't have anything to be sorry for, moron! She offered to come on the mission!"

"Ms. Mary, hush! I invited her!" 

"Alright, alright!" Samantha shouldered her way in between the two men, trying to push them at least arms length away from each other. "Seven's right. I'm not mad. I mean, this blows, yeah. However, I went on the mission voluntarily. Just like I have been for the past couple of months. I just, miss the action, ya know?"

Vanderwood's eye's narrowed and the now short haired redheaded woman. 

"I still don't understand this sudden change. You've decided to take over the family business, you have decided to reign as a Mafia Queen but, peacefully. You're not as hot headed as you were before and lately, you've acted like a lady more than anything else. It's weird. Creeps me out."

Samantha rolled her eyes and began to gather her things. 

"I've just made some changes and decisions that benefit my future."

"But won't you miss you're old life? Even a little? And isn't this new life...complicated?" Seven crossed his arms and looked at Samantha with concern in his eyes. A sadness that almost seemed like pitty. Samantha simply chuckled.

"Don't you worry about me and what I'm doing."

"I mean, sure, okay but that stuff in the states, how does-"

"Saeyoung. What's the point of having money and power if you can't live the life that you want?"

The woman didn't wait for a response. She shot a wink and a smirk at the two men and disappeared out of the front door.

"What do you think, Vanderwood? What is she accomplishing by doing any of these things?"

"Oh she has some sort of plan cooking. Trust me. But for now, I hope what we got tonight helps you get a little further."

"Do you think we should tell her that what I'm finding could involve 'He who shall not be named in front of her'?" 

"I'm sure her, and the rich kid will find out eventually. And he'll only get involved if you tell him about his friend. Which, speaking of, where is the mint haired guy?"

"I think I've found him. But I don't want to scare him away. Especially if he has the information I need. Which." Seven took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "I truly think that he does."

Vanderwood hooked his jacket over his shoulder and opened the door to leave.

"Hey, aren't you going to stay and go through what we found?"

"No. This bunker is filthy." "Mr. Han..." The security guard outside of his office didn't try to exchange pleasantries. He simply greeted, nodded and opened the door for his boss. Jumin shuffled around papers mindlessly. He sporadically ran his hands through his raven hair. Pacing. Loosening his tie. Exhaustion began to rear it's head and he heavily clunked into his desk chair. A gentle knock came from the heavy office door.

"Come in."

"Mr. Han, I gathered all of today's major newspapers and tabloids and looked them over for you." A nervous intern with armfuls of paper material stood in front of Jumin's desk.

"What is the damage? Anything we have to get in front of?"

"Well sir..."

Jumin arched his brow, not thrilled with the boys nervous and hesitant tone. "There were quite a few stories about your father and even one or two about you and a rumored engagement to that popular young actress..."

Leaning back Jumin began to rub his temples. He could feel a dark anger rising in him. Sheer frustration and humiliation at his father's actions.

"However, Mr. Han." The intern continued. "There was other news that overshadowed these things. Something that took over most all the major headlines."

He began to spread the reading material out on the desk for Jumin to look over as he explained what he had read.

"Remember when business tycoon Kang Dae announced his adoptive daughter would take over the business but then herself and his other daughter just kind of disappeared? Well not really disappeared, Kaeli actually ran off with musical actor Zen and I'm a huge fan of there's and-"

"Get on with it." 

"Oh right." Wiping the sweat from his brow and stopping his rambling, the intern continued. "There were all those rumors and speculation about gang involvement, mafia ties, Russian mobs, and no one really knew what had happened to Samantha."

Jumin felt himself clam up. He broke into a cold sweat. Hearing all these specific words along with her name. Knowing that big news laid before him, he could only imagine worst case scenarios. 

 "Seems like they finally figured out what she was up to."

 " Thank you that will be all. "

 "Of course Mr. Han. Thank you." 

The intern left the room and Jumin scrambled to get through as many headlines as he could in a split second. 

FEATHERS TO FINANCE

BURLESQUE TO BUSINESS

DADDY'S LITTLE SHOWGIRL

 "After a long absence from the family business, tycoon Kang Dae's oldest daughter has returned to sit on the board and claim next in line to run the company."

 Jumin was reading the words but didn't understand why he was hearing them out loud.

 "The heiress disappeared out of public eye in the corporate world but was quite busy overseas. For the year she was gone, Samantha Dae spent time building a problematic reputation as a showgirl in The United States. Mainly in Las Vegas, Nevada. Famously known as Sin City." 

 Jumin put down the newspaper in front of him and looked toward the front of his office. The doorway. Someone was leaning in the doorway. He followed red stiletto heels up long pale legs. A cobalt blue dress that laid above the knee. They were holding up the same newspaper Jumin was just reading himself. They dropped the newspaper from their face, folded it in half and tossed it to the side. Jumins breath caught in his throat. 

 "Tsk. If you read more, they try to make me sound like a real harlot." 

 She slowly walked toward the center of the room. A confident air surrounded her. A million dollar smile graced her face. Before she could make it anywhere near where Jumin had been sitting, strong arms wrapped around her and weighted her down like a ton of bricks. 

 "Samantha..." Jumins voice was barely above a whisper. He had his hand gently stroking her hair. It was shorter, but it was just as soft as he remembered. He inhaled deeply , trying to intake her scent he was always so fond of. 

Samantha wrapped her arms around his back and shut her eyes tight. For a year, everything she had done, all the moves she had made, everything was to get here. She was overcome with relief and unbelievable bliss. She pulled away and placed her hands on Jumins chest. He refused to let her go. She looked in his charcoal eyes. His bottom lashes sparkled, wet with tears.

 "Is my haircut that horrible?" Samantha chuckled as she wiped the tears from Jumins eyes.

 " It's lovely. You're beautiful. You're real. You're here. " Jumin could barely get the words out. His energy was dark and heavy. Samantha peered into his face, scanning every bit of him. Her heart broke. He was overwhelmed and under distress. She wondered what he had been going through in the past year, and knew he most likely had been shouldering it all himself. She was overcome with tremendous guilt. Pulling her body flush against his, Samantha spoke more tenderly than she ever had before.

 "There is no world that exists, where I would not come back to you. I'm here. To stay."