#but its still hard. either its a basic ass setting or one with thousands of unrealistic inconsistencies. or both!

[dexaroth]

man, the amount of mental gymnastics you have to use to justify an alien species that is just your average furry. like, just by replacing humans it falls apart bc youd evolve a totally different society and stuff bc ur literaly a different animal. then if you try to make them aliens, why are they so similar to earth species anyways?? raaaagh i think im way too stupid for worldbuilding but im Also way too stubborn to give this up. how r u gonna have ur ocs interacting without a fucking setting!!!

[quilveor]

Friend sent me this, and as a self-titled pokemaniac, I'd do wrong to not reply and elaborate on every single of those points. I already did to them, after all.

Quickest summary: Yes, the pokemon universe is ripping apart at the seams. Some details sound off, though, but the world is just gonna snap in half any time soon. Beware spoilers for almost all mainline [gen 3 onward] and all PMD games.

1) It's unclear where Mega Evolution actually comes from. There's two leading theories - yes, ORAS says meteorites, but XY says the energy of the Ultimate Weapon. The answer is probably both, because Pokemon doesn't care about consistency. Alternatively one set of worlds just has a lot more energy in it. 1.2) This is merely trivia that was certainly just an offhand meta joke, but in HGSS, Steven says he was fought by multiple identical-looking kids, implying every single playthrough of Ruby and Sapphire is set in the same world. The implications are hilarious. 1.5) Yes, Anabel is from Emerald world. People falling through holes is often enough to get them a name of a "Faller". Other notable Fallers include Mohn [husband of Lusamine, main villain of gen 7] and Looker [a detective from Platinum that appears in X/Y too]

2) True. I forgot they were silver-skinned myself, but the humanoids are called Ultra Recon Squad. Their world is devoid of light due to Ultra Necrozma. Also important is that, due to those wormholes, local pokemon are imbued with special energy called Z-Power, overdose of which turns individuals big. This is the same energy that Ultra Necrozma possesses.

2.2) Another minor trivia: Lunala, Solgaleo and Necrozma are all technically ultra beasts, but they are not counted as such in game's code. Probably to let you catch 'em without doing a post-game quest, but still, funny.

3) More specifically, you can capture Cosmog [which evolves into Cosmoem, and then into either Solgaleo or Lunala depending on your game version], but the mirror world thing is true. However, I am not sure it allows your pokemon to evolve into the other mascot. I'm not saying not, I'm just saying I'm not sure, since evolution is version-locked. 4) Eternatus. That's basically the plot of SwSh for those who care. There was a Catastrophic Event™️ including him, but he got defeated - then, in current times, local energy plant owner got him and wants to do Catastrophic Event™️ again because we will run out of energy in a thousand years. I am not joking. It's dumb. Rose is dumb. 4.2) Eternatus came from a meteorite, too. Perhaps Dynamax phenomenon and Mega evolution are two sides of the same thing? 4.5) Said energy made its mark for long enough that on a nearby island, mushrooms grow that allow the pokemon to enter their alternative big boi modes, "Gigantamax", or "rearranged genetic makeup" as OP calls it. It's a temporary form so I wouldn't be so dramatic myself. 4.7) Eternatus has his own special big boi mode where he turns into a huge-ass hand. It's called "Eternamax". During the fight with him, you get to see flashes of other locations and times in the background.

5) Mmmm, ScaVio's time machine. It's important to stress that the theory that paradoxes are basically Sada/Turo's imagination is just a theory. It's popular, sure, but paradox pokemon have been in the region for over 200 years, and the original research team was there in search of treasure, not weird beasts. What is true is, those creatures are there in the crater of Paldea, and it's also the source of Terastal energy which is basically the local phlebotinium. The robot in question is professor's AI in a robot clone body. It's specified that scientists cannot do such technology yet, but Terastal energy helped out somehow. It is hard to say however if it's sentient, or just very sophisticated, cases can be made both ways. Pokemon doesn't need to explain a damn, after all. The Time Machine that's mentioned was built by Sada/Turo, and is said to send things both ways. Professor uses them to send pokeballs into past/future and catch pokemon like that, but it also makes paradox pokemon spontaneously appear in the vicinity too.

6) True. There's also a large drawing in a secret cave where paradox Salamence/Gallade spawn. There's an implication that the DLC will explain a little bit of that, but it's merely an implication for now.

7) This is pretty much just the plot of DPPt. To add a little bit, the "banished god", Giratina, lives in an extremely splintered world where gravity is local and things don't obey typical laws of physics, changing all the time.

8) Oh boy this is a big one. At first I want to stress that PMD isn't treated as canon in mainline series, but I will ignore that for the sake of argument. 8.3) In PMD universe as a whole, humans are something between ancient history, myth, and a fairytale. Pokemon are aware of humans, and they're mentioned to have existed in the past, but no longer. There are even ruins of human constructions as seen in Rescue Team's Decrepit Lab 8.3 a) Rescue Team has two humans of note. Gengar and the protagonist. First is said to have been cursed by Ninetales to become a pokemon, second was approached and willingly agreed to go to the pokemon world. So it's hardly world splintering in this case. 8.3 b) Explorers have a single human, the protagonist. They've come from far future of darkness, being a partner to Grovyle. However, there's no explanation whatsoever as to what a human was doing there. [Unless you consider that Bidoof's Wish is responsible for the entire game happening. Then we can blame Bidoof.] 8.3 c) Gates have many humans and they're actually explained. They've been called from other worlds by an entity called Voice of Life in order to save the world. Notably, every human except the protagonist is also sent back to their original world by the villains. 8.3 d) Super has a human protagonist, and also an ancient human in the past. First was brought by Mew, but the second one is just kinda there? That one's not explained. Notably, the protagonist of Super does not return to the "human world" upon completion of their quest, unlike all other protagonists. 8.3 e) Adventurers has no humans. I just wanted to mention it exists because if I suffer this knowledge, so shall you. 8.6) Legends has two notable humans. Protagonist has been sent across the time by the literal will of God Himself, however Ingo fell through the time on his own and [like Fallers of SMUSUM] has amnesia. However, in this case, what's far more important is that the timespace continuum in Legends: Arceus is absolutely, positively, and completely FUCKED. There's just holes in reality all over the whole place. Left and right. You can enter those and catch a Porygon there if you so damn please. You can catch ancient [fossil] pokemon there. What the fuck happened.

9) Time eroding is a conscious effort made by Darkrai in order to create a world of darkness. He actively sabotages everything that can happen for it behind the scenes. This doesn't change the fact that time is kept in check with literally a single location that, if it crumbles, time will eventually stop. [But there are spare time gears. Explorers of Sky informs us of at least six, and you only need five. [Limestone Cavern in Here Comes Team Charm! special episode has the sixth one. Also it's implied there are time gears in Drenched Bluffs and Waterfall Cave because Dimensional Scream activates there.]] However, yes, Mystery Dungeons are unexplained locations that warp and distort. They also are said to appear due to a large amount of local disasters happening in Rescue Team.

And yes, the list is fairly non-exhaustive. You have time/dimension travel in BWB2W2 [trading between versions is implied to be time travel by one npc in Opelucid; and Entralink exists], you get the entire Rainbow Rocket episode of USUM where you just have villains that actually managed to conquer/destroy their worlds because there was no protag vibing into your world, Alolan wormholes opened over Galar in Crown Tundra... Yep, those worlds are fucked.

Have a good day!

I absolutely love that the Pokémon universe is literally tearing itself apart at the seams. Fantastic worldbuilding, A+++

[theramseyloft]

Diet

Woooo, is this subject ever a pain in my ass for something so simple...

There is just... SO much misinformation out there, from sources that should otherwise be credible.

So let me set the record straight as a specialist in the care of pigeons:

Pigeons are strict granivores. 

They can’t digest any part of a plant but seeds.

No leafy greens. No stems. No roots, no tubers, no bulbs, no flowers... 

ESPECIALLY not the fruit!!!

They can neither taste nor process the sugar!

Nothing but seeds.

Not even as a treat.

Vets often suggest greens and fruit and florets for literally every companion bird, going off the parrot template.

If a small animal (non-farm) vet gets to see a companion bird, you can reliably wager that it’s either a psittacine or finch, and win that bet most of the time.

Hardly any one ever brings pigeons to a vet.

Breeders consider it cheaper to kill the sick ones than try to find out what’s wrong with them, and pigeons as companion birds are still extremely niche.

The only way to change this is for people with pet pigeons to bring them to their vet like they would a cat, dog, rabbit, or other pet for regular check ups so that a base line can be established before that animal gets ill.

The more vets provided with base lines of healthy pigeons, the more accurately they will be able to treat pet pigeons.

Parrots in captivity that are fed the fruit and nut heavy diet that most species eat in the wild will develop fatty liver disease and die very young.

Wild parrots fly for MILES every day to forage that sugar and fat rich diet, which fuels their long foraging flights.

Their diet is adapted to their lifestyle, and their lifestyle is adapted to their diet, as is the case with most species.

Parrots have only been captive bred for the last 70 or so years. The larger species take up to 5 to sexually mature, and can live into their 70′s or 80′s

We have been breeding them in captivity for less than the lifetime of a single healthy individual.

Parrots simply have not had the time to physiologically adapt to the utterly sedentary life they live as human house pets.

We take these birds built for a high stamina nomadic lifestyle supported by a diet high in fat and sugar, and have them live most of their lives in a single room.

To keep them alive, we have had to make up for their lack of opportunity to adapt their physiology by adapting their captive diet to this drastic change in their life style.

Even finches (primarily seed and insect eaters, mostly) are usually kept in such extreme confinement that their captive diet has needed to be modified to avoid being dragged to an early grave by a fatty liver.

Pigeons were the first birds humanity domesticated. 

Even before chickens.

About the time camels were domesticated; in the dawn of agriculture and stationary settlements.

What made them easy to domesticate was that, being desert/scrubland birds, seed was the diet they were already adapted to.

It was easy enough to share enough grain with them to make living in a dovecote worth while.

In exchange, humans got some of the most nutritious fertilizer known to man to this day.

Being picky about what kind of seed you eat isn’t beneficial of a desert bird, and wild rock doves already adjusted the volume of their feed intake with the natural fluctuation of seed availability through out the year; eating more when they had to fly further afield to find it, and needing to eat less per foraging trip when there was enough nearby that they didn’t have to range as far.

Because adjusting their food intake according to how close and plentiful food was already came naturally to rock doves, the only transition in the development of domestic pigeons was that food would always be close and plentiful.

Pigeons have had THOUSANDS of years to adapt to not having to fly nearly so far to find enough to eat in human care as their rock dove ancestors did in the wild.

Here is the basic break down of nutritional requirements for racing homers (the breed that serves as the base line for domestic pigeons), according to Avian Medicine: Principles and Applications. Ritchie, Harrison and Harrison;

Pet shops are starting to sell dove and pigeon diets now, lots of which would make decent bases, but still need extra protein or fat added.

There are also lots of wild bird blends that make good bases.

I used to love royal wing Classic Mix from TSC, as it was easily accessible, but it needs a lot added to it, and that can get pretty expensive.

Chewy sells an excellent diet designed for pigeons breeding and performing: https://www.chewy.com/versele-laga-classic-pigeon-food/dp/259128 , which is what we order for the flock now.

But for a house pet or two, it’s often easier and less expensive to mix your own blend.

Pigeons can eat pretty much any whole (in the hull) seed that they can comfortably swallow.

Birds that are performing, raising peeps, or under weight need all the fat and protein they can get, so lots of dried legumes for protein (Mung beans, lentils, and split green peas are favorites), millet (fatty and high protein, especially easy to digest), safflower seeds, and black oil sunflower seeds (rich in oil and extremely fatty).

Non-breeding House pets tend not to need as much fat, so their feed should be higher grain like wheat, barley, and oats with lower fatty or high protein seeds.

The more confined the bird (unless the bird is sick or healing from an injury), the less fat it needs in its diet.

So the owners of a pet or two are free and encouraged to experiment with their blends.

Most pigeon’s can’t comfortably swallow striped sunflower seeds, so keep your selection below that in size.

Chopped up tree nuts or peanuts are an EXTREMELY high fat treat (think pigeon cheese cake) and should be given *very* sparingly.

Chia seeds have a very high caffeine content and need to be avoided.

Other than that, you can experiment with any grain, legume, or other seed small enough for them to swallow, provided nutritional parameters are maintained.

Do not used hulled seeds!

The hull is important, not because they can digest cellulose, but because they can’t. (which is why they can’t process any part of a plant except the seed)

The hulls of seeds they eat make up the vast bulk of solid fecal matter and act as vital dietary fiber.

That pigeons need grit to grind down food in their gizzard is a myth.

They need it to obtain dietary minerals, and that distinction is a matter of life and death.

Avoid the starter chick grit for chickens, and the charcoal grit for song birds, as these are both made with a base of Granite, which is made by leeching the calcium out of lime stone. 

Galliformes need granite grit because it won’t break down in their gizzard, where they use it as a mechanical aid to grind food.

That’s exactly what makes granite based grit a serious intestinal impaction risk for a columbiform like our domestic pigeons.

Because what they need grit for is dietary minerals, it’s important that their grit dissolve in the gizzard to be absorbed by the small intestine.

Hens will lay eggs with or with out a cock, and the cock also has a skeleton to maintain, so calcium supplements are a necessity.

Hens and breeding cocks can also get salt deficient from both producing eggs and feeding peeps.

My breeding flock has Oyster Shell grit offered free choice and free access to a salt and mineral brick for horses.

It is generally safest to assume that a new pigeon has not been adequately supplemented, because birds who have not will gorge on grit and salt to their detriment.

Pigeons deficient enough t crave it can poison themselves overdosing on salt. Salt poisoning is nearly always fatal!!! so do not ever offer pigeons any kind of salt based grit in a loose, granular form.

I use the salt and mineral brick because their beaks are not hard enough and they do not have sufficient bite strength to get large enough quantities off of the brick to sicken themselves before the craving for that mineral is satisfied.

A single indoor pet can be given one of the little salt/mineral wheels for hamsters.

Calcium deficient pigeons craving grit can impact their crops gorging on it.

As stated earlier, my loft birds have free choice access to oyster shell grit next to their feed.

To prevent new birds form gorging dangerously on it, a tiny pinch is sprinkled over their meals every morning during their 4 week quarantine.

By the time quarantine ends, they are not deficient, and will not be craving grit ravenously enough to hurt themselves on it.

Bon appetite to your sweet cooey friends and house mates. ^v^

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Alabasta (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

crocodile is one of my favorite villains in one piece for a number of reasons, and one of them is because he’s such a threat, the first real one faced in the grand line and one of the toughest in all of paradise. the villains from the arcs before this, like wapol or the agents from little garden, could barely even land a hit on luffy in actual combat. so crocodile is introduced here as an absolute force of nature, a complete contrast to recent villains and a very tangible threat. 

it’s an impression he very much lives up to later in the arc by crushing luffy not once but twice, which only makes luffy’s ultimate hard-won triumph feel all the better. luffy closes a huge gap over the course of alabasta in order to be able to beat crocodile, and giving us a sense of just how strong he is from the very start gives luffy clawing his way up to that level a lot more weight. 

the successive reveals of luffy’s family never fail to absolutely delight me, because in any other series they would almost certainly feel contrived, but knowing luffy, it is absolutely unsurprising he just never happened to mention his relatives. nobody asked! luffy’s unique brand of honesty is one of my favorite character quirks, because he’s very straightforward and in fact can’t lie for shit, but his priorities are so completely off the wall that he winds up omitting highly relevant information completely by accident. 

ace’s scene in alabasta really does impress me. oda’s said in an sbs that he knew ace’s fate from his introduction, which i find absolutely unsurprising given the intricacy of his story planning. that means he needed ace’s introduction to make him both likable and memorable enough in the space of just a couple chapters that the audience would be engaged when he became the focus of the story a couple hundred chapters on despite barely appearing at all in the intervening time, and he really succeeded. 

kohza is one of my favorite minor characters in the whole series, and i think he’s a big part of why alabasta’s civil war plotline works so well and feels so real. nobody on either side of the war actually wants to fight, but everyone has been driven to such desperation that they feel they have no other choice in order to save their country; and kohza exemplifies that. he's a good person who loves his country a lot, and who genuinely likes and cares about the royal family and vivi especially, and the only option he can see to save alabasta is terrible, but there’s nothing else he can do. 

it’s just fun for me to think about the fact that if crocodile was literally anything other than a very skilled logia, vivi would have ended the whole entire arc right here. 

i really like civil war storylines when they’re well-done, and i think alabasta is one of the best ones i’ve seen in media. most of it is down to what i mentioned earlier, about how nobody on either side actually wants to fight but feels like they have no choice but to. nobody here is actually in the wrong except for crocodile, and so until crocodile is defeated, nothing can be fixed- which is what luffy, of all people, is the one to realize. 

sanji’s mr. prince gambit is probably my single favorite part of alabasta, and i think one of the reasons i like it so much is because he basically beats crocodile at his own game. crocodile is terrifying in battle, but before anything else he’s a manipulator. he’s always working from the shadows, always deceiving people doing what he wants, and sanji manages to turn the tables on him and do the exact same back to him, twice. 

also sanji looks great in glasses

smoker and tashigi both get kind of unfortunately sidelined after this saga, but they’re both really great characters in alabasta. (tashigi especially; i’ll get to her later.) much like the rebel army, they’re good people trying to do the right thing in the tangled mess of tension and politics and resentment that is alabasta- and when that means working with pirates, they’ll buckle down and do it, despite how much it might contradict their worldviews. 

i love when events align in one piece so that people who don’t particularly like the strawhats wind up working with them for some common goal (as seen most prominently in impel down), and smoker and tashigi in alabasta are the first and still one of the best examples of that. 

the entirety of luffy versus crocodile round one is so well done. we’re a hundred and fifty chapters in, and although luffy has struggled in fights before now and then, we get the sense he hasn’t ever really been pushed to the brink, and he’s certainly never lost.

and then he does, completely and absolutely, without ever even landing a hit on his opponent, and it hits like a punch. 

oda seems to be a fan of characters just barely missing each other- the similar panel of robin and olvia running past each other from robin’s flashback comes to mind.

i’ve always liked that of all the strawhats, it’s usopp who gets the first “luffy is going to be king of the pirates” moment. they’ve all said it by the current chapters in wano (with the sole exception of robin, i believe), but usopp said it first, and that feels significant to me. he’s always been the one who feels the least secure in his place on the crew, but even so, he has so much faith in luffy. 

nami’s fight with miss doublefinger is pretty silly in places and i think it gets frequently (understandably, it must be said) overshadowed by zoro’s fight with mr. 1 directly afterwards, but i really like it nonetheless. it’s nami’s first real solo fight in the whole series, and once she finds her feet she kicks ass, and i really like that. it feels like a very satisfying development for her, to stand up and risk her life in direct combat for vivi’s sake. 

we’re now almost a thousand chapters in and its my firm belief that zoro versus mr. 1 is still one of the best fights in the entire series. i definitely think it’s probably zoro’s best fight- only his match with kaku compares. the narrative build over the course of the fight, from zoro struggling just to match mr. 1 (and getting shredded to pieces in the process) to cutting him down in one final stroke, is incredibly cool and satisfying to watch. it feels like a very tangible step forward for zoro in terms of ability, like a massive obstacle has been surmounted and, as he himself says, he’s now stronger for it. 

its also very cool that this is, i believe, the first appearance of what is probably observation haki, though it isn’t named or recognized as such. i’m always endlessly impressed by all the little moments of internal consistency that oda manages to sprinkle into his story. 

there’s barely any dialogue on these entire two pages, from crocodile dropping vivi to luffy and pell swooping in- the story is briefly told entirely through visuals- and i love that. it gives the impression of a single tense, frozen moment as vivi falls, which is then broken in spectacular fashion when luffy catches her. 

i really, really like the progression that runs through all three of luffy’s fights with crocodile. the gap between them goes from being impossible, with luffy unable to even land a hit and crocodile basically toying with him; to surmountable but still huge, with luffy able to land some hits but still outclassed; to finally putting them on basically even ground. and every inch of that growth on luffy’s part is hard-fought and hard-won and well-deserved. 

crocodile’s confidence in his abilities isn’t misplaced- he genuinely is that powerful. but if there’s anything we know about luffy by now, it’s that he doesn’t ever give up. it’s very fun to watch crocodile’s dismissiveness turn into disbelief turn into rage and frustration when luffy just won’t die. 

luffy is, additionally, pretty clearly a better brawler than crocodile (which makes sense, crocodile is clearly used to devastating long-range attacks with his powers while luffy grew up fighting giant wildlife with his bare hands), which means that by the time of their last fight, where they’re just whaling on each other in the catacombs and crocodile is starting to get sloppy and desperate and lose control, if anything it’s luffy who has the upper hand. 

zoro and sanji’s dynamic is always a favorite of mine, and one of the things i like best about them is how perfectly in sync they always manage to be when it comes to things that actually matter, despite fighting like cats and dogs pretty much every other time. i’ll never understand people who think they genuinely aren’t friends. 

tashigi is really good in alabasta, okay. she essentially has her own entire character growth arc. she goes from her stance in loguetown, where she isn’t even tolerant of (fully legal!) bounty hunters, to here, where she’s forced to confront that the world isn’t nearly as black and white as she’s always believed it to be, that sometimes pirates are good and allies of the government are bad, and ultimately makes the right choice to help the strawhats even though it clearly pains and frustrates her that she can’t do anything more herself. 

i’ll be forever mad that her only really significant appearance after this in punk hazard didn’t really live up to what her character deserved. 

i really like how the countdown sequence is done. the tension is ratcheting up and up and up as the clock ticks down in the final seconds, panels cutting all over the city to show all the different characters, everyone who’s caught up in this conflict and everyone who’ll die if the cannon fires-

and then the clock hits zero, and we get this panel that’s just... quiet, after all the madness, as we see how vivi stopped the detonation. i think oda is very good at setting up his pages so they have a flow to them, so no matter how quickly you actually read sometimes things feel like they’re going very fast and all happening at once and then it slows down and gives the reader a chance to breathe, if only to speed up again later. i think oda is really good at pacing in general, really, both on a micro level like this and on a larger scale. 

luffy’s greatest strength isn’t really his strength. he’s strong, absolutely, but that’s not really why he wins the fights he shouldn’t win. he wins because he just doesn’t fucking stay down. his fight with katakuri is probably the best example of this, because katakuri has him beat in pretty much every category except sheer endurance, and there as here, it’s that endurance that winds up getting luffy the win in the end. 

i do love that it’s the rain that ends the war. not the explosion and pell’s sacrifice, not vivi’s pleading, not even luffy kicking crocodile into the stratosphere, but the rain, the thing alabasta’s been missing for too long, the thing crocodile stole, the only thing all these people are fighting over. 

it’s crocodile’s symbolic defeat- at the same moment his power is broken by luffy, the stranglehold of dehydration he’s been using to foment war and rebellion is all at once gone, and he’s left with nothing at all, and alabasta can finally find peace and start to heal again. 

i always love the little moments that show, usually without words, just how much the strawhats love each other, and all of them unanimously waiting until vivi is out of sight to collapse so that she won’t worry, won’t see how ragged they ran themselves for their sake, is definitely one of them. 

i adore vivi’s sendoff, because while its sad she has to go, the certainty that someday they’ll meet again and that even if not they’ll always be crew manages to make this scene endlessly hopeful instead (which, i think, is also a good summary of one piece’s tone as a whole, at least in its more serious moments). luffy never says goodbye, after all, and nobody ever really leaves the strawhat pirates. 

i’m really looking forward to vivi’s re-entry to the story. i really, really want to see her reunion with the strawhats. 

hey look, it’s the panel my profile picture is from! 

the mystery surrounding robin and her past is built up in little ways long before enies lobby, from her harsh reaction when confronted with by tashigi to her aversion to being called by her given name to this flashback, of her talking to cobra about her dream. of them, the latter is my favorite, because i think it’s probably the most sincere she is until enies lobby- which makes sense, given she thinks she’s about to die. 

like many things about robin in alabasta, this gets cast in a new light by her backstory. if she dies here, so too does the entire legacy of ohara- but she’s so beaten down and hopeless that she really doesn’t see any light ahead to strive for. there’s no hope left, for her, and the whole world against her. 

and then there’s luffy, who creates hope everywhere he goes, who makes her live anyways. 

this is a hell of a spread to hook us very effectively right into the sky island saga. it’s a perfect reminder of just how much we still don’t know about all the endless mysteries of the grand line, and just how many adventures are still yet to be had.

[internalsealpanic]

The Thorn pt.1

summary: “Please what, Kitten? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

 or my 6 thousand word essay on why I want more Sugar daddy!Slade fics.

a/n: This is just straight up smut Never combine stress thirst plus an amazing enabler. Thanks to @littleredwing89 for basically co-writing. Also I need more case fics with undercover gentlemen’s clubs stuff.  I will edit this for grammar later. 

warnings: mentions of murder and sexual assault (for the case), mirror sex, collars, oral (male receiving), choking, kind of public sex?, size kink (this is to be expected at this point), strength kink,  reader is kind of a dumbass, and praise kink. 

villain’s masterlist or masterlist

Saying this wasn’t your scene would be like saying the sun is bright. Obvious but wholly inadequate in describing just how out of your depth you are. You cross your arms over your chest in a futile attempt to shield them from prying eyes. The soft fabric of your lingerie feeling too little in contrast to the men clad in expensive suits leering at you as they passed your skittish form.

 You try to swallow down the nervousness. You try to tell yourself this is fine, that it’s just for the case. But the silk collar tied tightly around your neck and your own fraying nerves made it extremely difficult to ignore just how vulnerable you felt. 

 God, what made your awkward ass think you could pull this off?

 You lift your head, eyeing the other men and women around you. You all wore matching silk ribbons tied into bows behind your neck, a circular, silver tag hanging off of it. You wrinkle your nose at how young some of them look. Some barely look old enough to be anywhere near a place like this. 

 Part of you feels thankful that you shut Nicky’s idea down to go with a leather lingerie set but the stark contrast of your lacy lingerie set made you stand out too much in the sea of leather. It made you stand out just enough to color both your cheeks and ears from the amount of attention you were getting. You close your eyes trying to ignore the heat permeating from your skin. You try to focus on the details of the case. 

 For the last 8 months, there’s been an increase in the number of young men and women going missing and turning up dead. The assumption had been that it was due to the increase in gang activity but something felt off about the deaths. 

 Nothing was consistent. The victim type, the area, and even the M.O. of sexual assault were varied. Only the mode of death was even close to being consistent but even that presented its own problems. The injuries were too clean, too efficient for the killer to have drawn any pleasure from it especially when contrasted with the victims’ other injuries.  Normally people who make those injuries have a certain type and a certain way of doing things. And the clean efficiency of the disposal method had easily ruled out any of the local gangs. 

 When you brought all of this up to your boss, he waved you off saying something about looking into it. Somehow not getting fired after screaming at your boss (probably because you’re one of the few crime scene techs willing to stay in this shithole), you decide to conduct your own investigation. The more clues you uncovered (out of sheer spite) the more they seemed to point to an organized crime group, likely involved in trafficking.

 Finally, after a month and a half of searching, you found a solid lead. Augustus Klineberg. Despite the name, he was new money. At least, here in Merit.  

 “I’m his type!”

 “And so are a dozen bodies laying around in the lab, what’s your point?”

 “Sita, got me a part-time job at the Thorn.”

 It hadn’t been easy. The thorn was an exclusive gentlemen’s club that specialized in certain kinks. It had taken Sita a week to even get you an interview but after that they eagerly accepted you with worrying enthusiasm. Either way, this conversation was simply a formality. 

 Bernard stares at you and you watch as his entire being crumples into the dining room table. He turns to his husband pleadingly. “Nicky, Please, my love, talk some sense into her.”

 You turn to Nicky who is innocently sipping from his coffee mug filled with whatever ungodly creation came to Bernard in the dead of night. He tilts his head back seemingly collecting the right words. “Y/n has a point.”

 “No! Not you too!”

 “Yes!”

 “Bern, think about it. Klineberg would never suspect her and unlike most of Klineberg’s victims, Y/n is a ninja gremlin.”

 Bernard gives him a withering look while you snort. Nicky shrugs and continues to drink his, what you assumed was, liquid crack. 

 “Y/n, are you sure about this? The Thorn- Well, it isn’t exactly like your other undercover jobs.” You give both of them a cocky smile, biting into your mini waffle. “It can’t be that hard. All I have to do is sit there and look pretty.” At that little remark, Nicky burst out into a fit of laughter loud enough to wake the neighbors. 

You run your hand through your hair still, feeling flustered. You need air. 

 “Hey Nina, I’m gonna need like maybe 5 minutes.”

 “Sure, just don’t blame me for whatever excuse I give the bossman,” Nina says, shrugging at you. She flips her red curls over her shoulder, winking at a patron and tilting her hips to show off her curves. Both you and the patron are slack-jawed and entranced. Maybe you should try that sometime? Some time being after you stop gawking at Nina’s ass and probably also after you take in some air. 

 You shuffle away awkwardly keeping your eyes to the ground. You shrink into yourself easily as you cut through the crowd. This case was going to be the death of you and Bernard’s eulogy would just be a very short but satisfying ‘I told you so’. 

 Mercifully, you find a quieter area. You would have preferred to go outside but standing alone in a dark alley in skimpy underwear might be a bad idea. You flatten yourself against a wall and close your eyes. Maybe you could tell them you aren’t feeling well which isn’t entirely untrue. You felt sick being this vulnerable. You should probably leave before you do something stupid. 

 A hand on your wrist drags you back to reality. It takes absolutely everything in you not to break his wrist. You open your eyes to see Klineberg hoovering in your personal space. 

 “Are you ok?” He asks, the concern in his voice sounding synthetic. You try to wriggle out of his hold not bothering to hide your discomfort. You note how his smile seems to get bigger as you struggled more. Clearly, he was enjoying your discomfort. 

   “Thanks for finding her for me. The manager said she’d be in this general area but it’s quite hard to see with just one eye.” Slade says casually, settling a large hand on the man’s shoulder. Your heart stops. Of all the people you had to run into-

  Klineberg eyes him skeptically. You have to respect him for that. You’ve faced Slade several times before, only making it out due to luck or hours of planning. If you were Klineberg, you’d be pissing yourself. Despite the almost friendly expression Slade had on him, you can tell this wasn’t up for negotiation. And apparently, so can Klineberg seeing how he dropped your hand. 

 Slade waves a neatly dressed man over. The man eyes you appraisingly and your heart takes an express elevator to your throat. Were you that obviously out of place? 

 “We’ll be taking a room.”

 “Of course, sir,” The man answers politely, finally, taking his eyes off of you and handing Slade a key. 

 Wait. We?

 Slade starts walking without a word, the crowd parting for him easily.  You briefly look back at Klineberg who is still looking at you like he’s going to tear you apart with his bare hands before following Slade.  

 You walk behind him wordlessly. Your mind is still reeling from the fact that Slade ‘Deathstroke: The Terminator’ Wilson just saved you from your target and your own terrible acting and is mortified by the fact that he has now seen you in skimpy lingerie. The steps you take are measured, making sure to stick close to him but not too close.  You keep your eyes to the ground as you walk behind him, hoping it’s enough to hide the expressions cycling through your face. 

 You two enter a room. It was unexpectedly spacious even under the dim neon lights. You look around finding the room furnished with expensive decorations looking nothing like the seedy gentlemen’s clubs you’ve busted before save for the pole in the middle of the room. It looked more akin to an expensive hotel bar, again, save for the pole. The darkness of the room and the quiet flow of the music set quite the intimate atmosphere which just made you that more skittish. 

 Slade makes his way across the room, eyes searching the corners and spaces of the room. He nods seemingly satisfied with the setup and likely not spotting any recording devices. Your stiff shoulders loosen a bit, if nothing else you could at least speak plainly now. 

 Slade takes his suit jacket off, revealing broad shoulders and the outline of strong back muscles. Your throat dries. Something warm stirs in you and you’re gawking again. God, you really need a better reaction to attractive people. 

 Slade holds out a glass of whiskey to you, a playful smile on his handsome face. He doesn’t seem to mind you staring at him. You swear viciously not skimping on colorful words but walk over to take the alcohol regardless. It’s on his tab and you honestly needed some alcohol in your system if you’re going to talk to him.

 “So, working for the cops not work out for you?”

 “Nah, my last sugar daddy just kicked the bucket, so I’m looking for a new one,” you say, giving Slade a wry smile.  You watch him cross one leg over another easing into a relaxed position through the wall. It was polished to a mirror shine. You guess that’s the kind of thing rich people liked. 

 “Hmmm, that can be arranged.” You choke on your drink. You scowl at him. He simply shrugs at you taking a sip of his whiskey. 

 You hear the door open, forcing you to pretend to be civil. A man around your age, dressed in a classic waiter’s outfit comes in with a tray of whiskey and two glasses. You don’t know how but you can tell the whiskey is worth more than your apartment. This doesn’t help your urge to punch Slade. 

“Will you be requiring any special toys tonight, sir?” The straightforward tone of the question makes you stiffen more than anything. The man’s eyes flicker towards you but his focus remains squarely on Slade who eyes you openly before smiling and saying “No, thanks, Anthony. I think we’ll be just fine.”

 "If you say so, sir. Please feel free to let us know if you need anything." 

 You wait for Anthony to leave before turning the full force of your scowl at Slade.“How the hell did you know his name?”

 Slade regards you impassively over the rim of his glass. You refuse to break eye contact.  He raises his hands in mock surrender.  “Alright, Kitten, you caught me. I do frequent this club quite a bit.”

 “You kinky shit.”

 He eyes you again, his eye clearly tracing your curves. “I’m not the one sitting here in their underwear with a collar on. Speaking of which-” Slade nods his head towards something in front of both of you. 

 You look at the pole, blinking dumbly as a smile spreads across his face. He tips his head to it. “I did pay for your time and the customer is always right.”

 Your mouth twists into a snarl as the tips of your ears run red. “You are insufferable.”

 “Don’t make me call the manager.” You sigh at the unspoken ‘it is definitely going to blow your cover and get you shot. At best.’ and begrudgingly you make your way to the pole. 

 You grip the pole in front of you, flexing your fingers against the cold metal. Anxiety thrums under your skin. Your eyes flick nervously to Slade who’s got the audacity to sit comfortably, sip whiskey, and smirk at you as if he was completely in his element. 

 “No need to be shy. Be a good girl and give us a good show,” he says, winking at you. Your hackles rise and your face pulls into a frown before rearranging itself into a sultry smile. You put one heel in front of you, hooking your leg around the pole and grinding your clothed sex into the metal in an undulating motion that has Slade clenching his hand around his glass. You try your hardest to grin and you suspect you’ve failed. Not that Slade’s noticed considering his eye is laser-focused on your ass. 

 With your one leg on the floor, you push yourself into a spin. Your body tips back as your hand runs down your face, chest, and abdomen drawing attention to the plains of exposed skin and delicate fabric accenting your shape. Pulling your body back up, you let your body slide down to the floor. Your legs split as soon as you made contact with the floor giving him a full view of your ass. He whistles appreciatively, tilting his head. You watch him through thick lashes, eyes bright and predatory under the neon lights. You roll onto your hand and knees. He smiles down at you watching the sweat drip down the valley of your breasts.  You were a sight to behold. 

 Slade pats his knee. “Come here, kitten.” Hunger flashes in his blue eye. It sends a warm shock through your system. It’s odd being looked at like that but you can’t feel yourself getting too concerned over it. Not when it sends a pleasant hum through your mind. 

 You crawl towards him in time with the movement, slow and steady in its place. Stopping in front of him. A large hand grasps your chin, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.  

 You sit on his lap, hand grasping his broad shoulder. Embarrassment floods back into your system now that you’re this close, now that you had the full force of that hungry gaze on you. You feel your skin heat and the weight of his gaze makes your stomach flip. 

 Seduction was other people’s gig, not yours. 

 Large hands settle on your waist, pressing circles into your skin. The buzzing feeling in your brain returns and you refocus on your task. His hands slide down the side of your body, fingers digging into your hips. His hands follow the circular motions your hips make on his crotch and guides you over the growing bulge. You hear his breath catch and hiss as you grind down on his crotch. You wrap your hands around the silk tie dangling from his neck and roughly pull him into a kiss.  

 His fingers dig into the meat of your ass drawing an embarrassingly loud yelp from you and giving him access to your mouth. You suck on his tongue and receive a pleased groan from him. Your tongues wrestle for control as he kneads your ass, making you mewl and moan into the kiss. You break the kiss needing air while Slade admires his work. 

 When Slade dips in for another kiss, you pull away pushing off of his broad chest a flirty smile dancing across your features. You turn from him, heels clicking against the floor as your show off the lushness of your figure.  In the mirror, you see Slade settling back into his position and grinning at the corners of the room again. His arms relax on the back of the couch. 

You close your eyes and let the music swallow you whole. You don’t dare hazard a glance at the mirror. You sashay your hips to the music, loosening your tense muscles. You open your eyes giving Slade your best seductive smile. You run your hands up your body, tangling into your hair. 

 You bite your lip as you slide them back down. Your fingers catch against the collar. Slade’s mouth twists.  

 You ease your arms out of your bra and let it drop to the floor. Your nipples pebble in the cold night air. The sight of them makes the corners of Slade’s mouth twitch. You push past the warmth stirring in your stomach in favor of trailing your hands down your body. Your fingers toy with the straps of your panties, watching as Slade licks his lips in anticipation.  You slide the flimsy garment down your legs, bending over and giving him a good view of your wet pussy through the mirror. 

 Stepping out of them, you toss them at Slade, who just to be an asshole, catches and pockets them. He grins at you and shrugs unapologetically. You scowl at him putting as much venom into your features as much as possible.      

You sway your lush hips in time with the music, letting the slow beat dictate the rhythm of your movements as you saunter towards him. You swallow, the silk collar still wound tightly around your neck. The intensity of his gaze makes you painfully aware of your nakedness but the embarrassment heating your skin shoots straight to your core, making you shudder. 

 Reaching him, you straddle his thighs, your plump ass grazing over his growing bulge. You moan, mouth-watering at the sensation. Your mind dwells on the feeling, your insides growing slick at the thought of him inside you. 

 Your fingers trail up your thighs and up over your stomach. You watch as his eye follows the slow tantalizing movement. His large hands grip onto the plush headrest of the couch, squeezing them as his face twists just a smidge with a mix of exertion and frustration. 

 You give him a playful smile as you slow the gyrating of your hips. A growl rumbles from his chest and you snap your hips back against his erection, the loose movement of your body hypnotic like ocean waves. Tipping your head back into his shoulder, exposing the column of your throat to him. Your hips continue to undulate against him, feeling the deep bass of the music ripple through your body along with the shockwaves of heat coming from your core as you grind it against his bulge. The coarse feeling of the fabric against your core making your knees grow weak.  

 A sinful moan tumbles out of your lips followed closely by breathy panting. You let your eyes slide shut soaking up the sensation of his suit against your skin. You reach behind you hooking your arms around Slade’s broad shoulders to steady yourself as your press closer to his large form. He presses his lips to your neck, the prickle of his beard against your skin making you shiver. “Yeah, just like that, kitten,” he murmurs against your skin, a large hand settling on your thigh.

 You push further into him. You grind your hips, the movement deep and slow. Your hand tangles in his hair, gently guiding him to your lips. Your lips move against each other just as your bodies do, slow and sensual. You catch his lips between your teeth, nipping at it. He chuckles at your invitation, sliding his tongue inside your mouth and joining your lips once again. Below you, you feel another large hand hook onto your thigh. Both hands grip your thighs fiercely pulling them further apart, exposing your sopping pussy to the cold night air. 

 Slade breaks away from your kiss, his panting breaths hot fanning your face. You stare at each other with half-lidded eyes, lust bright in them even in the low light. He captures your lips again in a quick kiss before planting one on your shoulder. “Play with yourself,” he says, the command steady and rough against your ear. 

 The tone of his voice makes you shiver as you reluctantly release your hold on his shoulders. Keeping one hand tangled in his hair, you slowly slide your hand down your body, mewling into his skin when you reach into your neglected folds. You slip two fingers in immediately. You shudder and bite your lips trying to stop any obscene sounds from escaping. 

 A hand tilts your chin, coaxing you. “Good girl, look at yourself. Look just how wet you are just for me, kitten,” Slade says, nibbling at your ear. You yelp, your hips bucking into your hand, ass rolling against his member. You watch yourself in the mirror red-faced, open-mouthed, and sinful. Your dripping sex is in full view only obscured by your hand as your fingers dip in and out of your core. Slade’s eye never leaves the mirror even as he plants kisses against your skin. His large hand grasps your neck making sure you don’t look away from the mirror. You think of how easily he could break you and you feel like you’re on fire. 

 You're so close.  You’re so so close. You can even see the desperation carving itself so plainly on your face. Anxiety and arousal mix into a potent cocktail in your gut. The nervousness from earlier rearing its ugly head. You whine in frustration, adding in a third finger but you can’t seem to reach over the edge. You hear him chuckle behind you and see him grin into your skin. At least, one of you was having fun. 

 He gives your shoulder another rough kiss, leaving a mark before speaking. “Having some trouble, kitten?” You wrinkle your nose at his tone but...in truth, you were. You bite your lip not knowing what to say. You’re so close but… the venue made you shy and that was an entirely different problem.  Using the hand on your neck, Slade tilts your head towards him, the heat from his lips ghosting over yours. “All you have to do is ask for help, kitten,” he murmurs against your lips. The vibrations send another shockwave of desperation wreaking havoc throughout your already oversensitive body. 

 He tilts your head back to look at the mirror. You can feel your ears warm at the thought of begging but you’re a hair’s breadth away from your end. Biting your lips and furrowing your brow, you take a steadying breath but it still comes out breathy when you exhale due to the hand squeezing your thigh drifting closer to your core. He presses slow circles into your inner thigh with his thumb, his teeth nibbling at your shoulder leaving marks. A vicious curse leaves your lips blunted by a moan that follows it. 

 “Slade, please. Please. Sir, please.”

 “Please what, Kitten? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

 You tighten your grip on his hair and roll your hips against his. He growls in your ear but he doesn’t budge. “Use your words, kitten,” he commands, sounding far more patient than he actually is. You whimper, rocking against him. He holds you still, fingers digging into your flesh and body leaning into yours. “Words.”

 You pant, hot breaths loud in your ears. Whether it was his or your own you were hearing, you didn’t know and didn’t care, not when your head was jumbled with the buzzing under your skin. You swallow. His eye following the movement of your throat and the silver glint of your tag winking at you in the mirror. “Slade- Sir, please- Please, I need you. I need you inside me.”

 “That wasn’t too hard now was it?” He says capturing your lips in a rough kiss. You scream against his lips when you feel two large calloused fingers thrust into your core, stretching you replacing the ache in your core with a burning stretch. Slade releases you, steadying you so that your eyes are once again on the mirror. You both watch as his fingers pump in and out of you, the room filling up with your moans. “Keep your eyes on the mirror and watch as I make you cum.”

 He presses his thumb against your clit. The syllables of his name coming out garbled and incoherent. You cum with a whimper. Your body shakes uncontrollably, your bones melting. Your lungs take in greedy gulps of oxygen feeling like the wind’s been knocked out of them. Slade lets your head lull back against his shoulder. You press little kisses against the powerful muscles of his neck. “Thank you, sir.”

 Slade removes his fingers from your pussy, leaving you feeling empty. “Clean up the mess you made,” he orders, pressing wet fingers against your lips. You open your mouth letting them in. You slide your eyes shut and swirl your tongue around them. You bob your head taking them in deep. You moan, rocking your hips against his still hard cock, letting yourself imagine what it would be like to take him into your mouth. Your enthusiasm earns you a hiss from Slade. You smile as you continue to suck on his fingers and rock your body, the fire in the pit of your stomach reigniting. You flutter your eyes open. In the mirror, you see Slade, brow raised and mouth wrangled into a shape of wry amusement. “See, I knew you were a good girl,” he says voice strained. You grind your ass into him as you moan around his fingers. You gasp when a rough hand grasps your breast, nipple pinched between calloused fingers. 

 “Are you that hungry for my cock, kitten?” he asks, removing his fingers from your lips. Both your lips and his fingers glisten with your saliva. You nod not trusting your voice to be steady. He thankfully accepts it.  

 “Well, have at it,” he says, hands repositioning themselves on the back of the couch easing into a more relaxed position and looking as smug as humanly possible. He really is getting his money’s worth out of this. You shift your body making sure you brush up against his erect member as you did so. He looks almost pained when you finally face him. You drag your hands up and down his shirt, his muscles barely hidden by the soft silky material. You lick your lips, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. You slide yourself down his body, hands kneading and worshipping every stretch of muscle they come across. Fuck, they feel so good to your touch. 

 Getting to your knees, you rest your cheek against his knee. You let mischief shape your features. He quirks his brow at you, tilting his strong jaw urging you to move on. You massage his thighs as you pull yourself up. You undo his belt tossing it to the side. You pinch the zipper of his pants between your teeth and pull it down, grinning as you do it. Slade lifts his hips a bit to help you ease his pants and boxers down. Your mouth waters visibly when his cock springs free in all its glory. You gulp audibly as you figure the logistics of fitting all of it into your mouth. 

 “Take your time, Kitten. I’ve requested you for the whole night. We have time.” He drawls, smug. You roll your eyes at him finally deciding that head-on was the only way to tackle this. You lick a strip up his member paying special attention to the large vein running down the middle. You flick your eyes up to him, seeing his muscles tense. You grasp the base of his cock tight in your hand, kissing the tip and giving the slit a long, languid lick. The taste of precum wakes your taste buds. You hum, sucking lightly at the head, your hand twisting up and down his cock. His jaw tightens, the strain of keeping his hips still tightening the muscles of his thighs. 

 You spread your legs wide as you sink your head down taking him in and giving him a good view of your wet pussy. You take him in as far as you can, gagging when the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. The corners of your eyes sting with tears. You still yourself, letting your throat relax around him. You pull yourself back up. Your plush lips massage his length as you go and your warm hand not trailing far behind. You keep your mouth on the head of his cock before sinking back down. His sheer girth is sure to make your jaw ache but you couldn’t make yourself care, not when you’re growing wetter the more you worship his cock. Slade for his part looked like he was gonna tear the couch apart every time you sank down to take is cock on, the fluttering walls of your throat driving him up the wall. The soft music of the room was now barely audible against the mingling sounds of your moans. Slade’s unrestrained voice was dripped with whiskey and sin. 

 His cock twitches in your throat and it’s the only warning you get before cum splashes against the back of your throat and fills your mouth. You choke but when your eyes meet his, the muscles of your throat work automatically to swallow his load. The movement followed closely by his eye. You pull back, light-headed. He grabs your chin, tilting it up to inspect your mouth. He hums satisfied.  “Kitten, that mouth of yours is definitely worth more than the price of admission.” He says brushing a thumb against your bottom lip as you pant. 

 A familiar ache in your core returns when your eyes land on Slade’s still hardened cock.  

 “Of course, a little cockslut like you wouldn’t be satisfied ‘til you’ve been filled,” he chuckles pulling you into his lap so that you’re facing the mirror, your dripping pussy hovering over his saliva covered cock. The throbbing head teasing against your sensitive folds. He kisses your shoulder, his teeth pinching your skin leaving another red bruise. You whine as he guides your hips, moving them to ever so slightly brush your core against his cock. 

 “Sir, please. I need you. I- I need you to fuck me,” you beg, hands tangling in his hair and eyes watching his member in pained hunger. You sound so needy but you also needed him inside you filling you up. 

 Slade hums in your ear approvingly. He pinches your ear lobe between his teeth, making you keen. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” That was the only warning you got before his hands guide your hips down onto his engorged cock. Your walls flutter with every inch, stretching you with every inch. A hand cups your breast while he continues to guide you down onto his cock. Rough calloused fingers knead your breast as he whispers compliments into your skin in between kisses. The cacophony of sensations is almost too much for you. 

 “Such a good cockslut, look at how well that tight cunt of yours is taking me in.” You roll your hips, urging him to quicken his maddeningly slow pace. He simply chuckles at your attempt as both his hands steady your hips. You almost cry in relief when he finally bottoms out. You pant savoring the burning stretch tearing at your insides. Pleasure and pain mingling in your sense.  

 Slade rests his chin against your shoulder, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. “Kitten, I want to watch you fuck yourself on my cock,” he says, in a low commanding tone making you shiver and leaving no room for arguments. You grip on to his arms, nails digging into the meat of his muscle, to steady yourself. You lean forward to get yourself into a better angle. 

 Ah ah ah

 Breathy moans and the slap of skin against skin filled the air as you roll your hips against his. You watch yourself in the mirror, breasts bouncing, mouth hanging open, and tongue lolling out getting lost in the pleasure. The mixture of shadow and light highlighting and isolating the frantic need carving itself onto both of your faces. The coil in your stomach twists as your eyes meet his in the mirror. Icy blues trailing up and down your body possessively.   

 His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it gently as he trails kisses up your spine. Your hips stutter, your walls squeezing around his cock. “You like that?” he whispers into your ear, putting just the tiniest bit more pressure around your neck. You feel your walls flutter around him and he moans in your ear. His other hand squeezes at your hip, nails digging into your soft flesh.     

 With a growl, he snaps his hips against yours almost violent in its intensity. You let out a loud yelp. Slade jackhammers into you like a madman, pummeling your pussy. His tongue dragging against your sweat-covered skin.  “Cum with me, Kitten,” he grinds out, nipping at your ear. Your pussy clenches and unclenches around him trying to squeeze his cock, gripping him as if not wanting to let go of it. He bites a hickey into your neck and you feel the coil in your stomach burst. You feel a flood of warmth fill your aching core as Slade lets himself go. 

 He turns your body around to face him, careful not to separate you two. He pulls you into a deep kiss as both of you ride out your orgasms. 

 Your body slumps against Slade’s, head resting on his shoulder and chest pressing against his. Your breaths come out in puffs fanning against his neck. Slade presses a kiss to your forehead. You yawn and kiss his throat, his pulse hot against your lips. 

 “Satisfied?” he asks, pulling your wrist to his lips nipping and leaving marks on it. You wonder just how many marks he’s left on you and if he’s technically allowed to do that. It just seems bad for business. 

 “Yes, sir,” you answer, nuzzling into his shoulder. He chuckles, rubbing his large hands soothingly over your aching muscles. He holds you tenderly for a while, both of you basking in the afterglow.  

 Through thick lashes, you see Slade look at his watch. You whine when he starts to shift. Wrapping your arms around him, you press your body closer. You see his brow wrinkle and have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. Sucker. 

 Slade gives you another kiss as he reluctantly extricates himself from your warmth. You shiver at the motion. Your oversensitive walls flutter making him groan. You whimper at the feeling of emptiness as he gently places you on the soft cushions of the couch. He places another kiss on your forehead then your shoulder then your wrist as he drapes his jacket over you. “Sorry, kitten, I have some business I need to take care of,” he says tucking himself back into his pants. “But if you feel like a repeat performance, feel free to come back,” he continues, fixing his shirt as he grins down at you. Your stomach flips despite how tired you feel. 

 You watch him walk away then stop. “Oh and I’ll be keeping these,” he teases, holding up your panties and tucking them back into his pocket. You try to sit up intent on throwing the entire bottle of whiskey at him but your limbs fail you, still feeling like jelly.

  The next time you open your eyes is when you feel someone patting your cheek lightly. 

 “March,” Anthony’s voice comes out in a haze. It takes a second for your mind to recognize the name as your alias. You take a deep breath trying to quell the panic from being woken up. 

 “What time is it?”

 “A quarter past one.”

 Good, you’ve only been asleep for an hour.  

 “Thanks.”

 “You’re pretty lucky. Looks like Mr. Wilson was feeling generous,” Anthony laughs, thumb pointing to the stack of cash by the whiskey. 

 That asshole. 

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Thanks for reading! 

a/n: This will be a 3 part series because I am thirsty as hell. 

  Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage , @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

[hargrove-mayfields]

for @magellan-88!

When Hawkins’ class of ‘85 graduated high school, Billy was the first to take off, halfway back to San Francisco before the caps even touched the ground.

Everyone gave hats off to him for being one of the few who’d ever make it out of the dying ghost town that was Hawkins, but as much as he hated that place and all its confines, he felt like he had left behind a lot.

The job wasn’t what he really wanted to do anyways, his house, when he was still staying there, was cramped, and after only a couple of months, the town had no sentimental value to him. The only thing he couldn’t help but feel bad about ditching, and that amounted to a whole lot of regret on his part, were the people.

Not the girls who swooned over him or the half made friendships he’d been neglecting since they formed anyways either, but he had his little sister, to whom he promised he’d drop everything and come back the second she said the word, and he also had Steve.

His relationship with Steve was a little blurrier, the two of them had gotten to the point of calling each other friends just after Christmas, best friends by the time Neil kicked Billy out for nothing but turning the big one-eight in april, and he was left crashing on the Harrington’s designer couch until he was free to leave Hawkins.

That’s where Steve would’ve ended the story at least, but as for Billy, he’d fallen ass over tits in love for his best friend in a matter of a smoldering gaze at a Halloween party.

Of all the many things he regrets about his short time in that cramped little town, he’d have to say the biggest was not having worked up the courage to fess up about his little crush before he skipped town to live it up more than two thousand miles away, mostly because that had been the only of his mistake he never took any time to resolve.

So it was that when Steve, apparently completely forgetting about the existence of time zones, calls him up at five in the morning to ask if he could come out to visit his new place in the golden state in a few weeks, Billy senses a pretty big opportunity.

What Steve had always done when Billy was staying at his place was cover the couch in the upstairs foyer, as he was made to call it, in layers of spare pillows and blankets, making it up like a bed for him. If he could, he would’ve let him have the guest bedroom, but that was out of the question when every other night that Steve’s parents were home, they argued and John had to take the spare.

But Billy doesn’t have a spare room, and he isn’t too sure about doing the same for Steve in his new apartment.

The problem isn’t that he can't, he has a brand new couch, bought from an actual furniture store instead of an old busted up one at thrift (or that he brought in off the curb and said was bought at thrift) and it’s even got a pull out to make things easier. He’d spent too many dozens of nights on Steve’s couch, staring up at the way high ceiling and wishing he had the guts to make a move, that he doesn’t think his yearning heart can take being just down the hall from him again, especially not with the promise that in a few weeks time, there’d be that vast, looming space between them again.

So he’s settled on it, Steve is going to sleep in his bed. He’s just gotta find a way to get him there, and that’s simple enough, he just has to pretend there’s nowhere else for him to sleep.

Now, he’ll admit that his plan on selling that idea is shaky at best, but Steve is bone tired when he gets there a few days later, his first time flying and dealing with jet lag taking everything he has out of him, so really, he’s looking to crash as soon as they get up to Billy’s apartment.

Only, he notices immediately that the couch isn’t set up like a bed like he usually would have done it up, and he looks to Billy with a slight tilt of his head, confusion in those big puppy-dog eyes.

So Billy answers, trying not to be too smug about it, “Sorry man, couch is out of the question.”

“Why?” Steve asks, then thinks better of it, knowing Billy’s history, “Actually, hold that thought, I don’t think I want to know.”

That makes Billy laugh, makes him remember why he fell in love with Steve in the first place too, “Nothing gross this time, s’just brand new. Can’t have you drooling all over the furniture that cost me two months of rent.”

“Right. So.. where am I going to sleep then?”

“I’ve got a bed, Steve.”

“Well duh, but I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

“I didn’t say that. You’re not the only one with a queen sized now. I got room for two.”

“But.. is that going to be weird?” Steve asks, shifting on his feet, like the suggestion makes him uncomfortable, and Billy almost backs out then, lies about how he was just messing around to test Steve, but he sticks to his guns, saying, “Only if you make it weird. Don’t have much of a choice anyhow, unless you want to sleep in the bathtub.”

Steve insists on arguing though, “What’s wrong with sleeping on the floor?”

“Dude, this is a shitty ass apartment. I live here and I don’t even know half of the nasty shit that’s been on this floor.”

“Fine, just as long as I have a place to sleep.” Steve half-mumbles, cut off by a yawn, obviously too tired to keep pressing the issue.

He saunters off to Billy’s room not too long after that, not even changing out of his clothes before he’s throwing himself face down in his bed, leaving Billy to do his entire nighttime routine while Steve makes himself right at home, assuming that after brushing his teeth and putting his hair up, changing out of his jeans and triple checking that the doors and windows were locked tight, that’d be enough time for Steve to fall asleep.

That however, does not happen to be the case.

Billy knew from sleeping just down the hall from Steve’s bedroom that he snored like a motherfucker, and from the times he had fallen asleep on the basketball bus after a game that Steve never stopped moving in his sleep, but he was truly not prepared for how difficult it was for Steve to get to sleep in the first place.

He understands it, he remembers how hard it had been trying to relax in the silence that surrounded the country, and since that was all Steve was used to, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that the sounds of the city were hard for him to tune out and just sleep.

What he doesn’t understand is how Steve doesn’t wear himself out tossing and turning, and after at least an hour of it, Billy’s got to wonder if this is a princess and the pea type situation, some messed up spring in his mattress making this arrangement not proper for the royalty at his side.

Billy can tell he wants to talk, from the way he keeps feeling Steve’s eyes on his back, the tapping of his fingers against the headboard, which, if they got to talking he might not even need part two of his plan, but Steve doesn’t ever say anything just sighs with every chime on the clock, another hour he can’t get to sleep.

It isn’t until three in the morning rolls around that Steve finally conks out, Billy himself still barely awake enough to shoot his shot, draping himself over Steve and pulling him close before he has a chance to roll over onto his front again, falling asleep with his crush in his arms.

~~~~

The sun’s not up yet, and the clock’s too blurry to say exactly what time it is when Steve wakes up again, realizing after a few minutes that he’s hot as hell, and didn’t immediately start tossing and turning again, which, once he’s actually woken up enough to think, he discovers that the only reason that is is because Billy is pressed against his back, his arm thrown over his side, spooning him and basically keeping him held there in place.

Steve at first tries not to think about it, the whole, sleeping in the same bed as the person he deliberately never did that with to avoid facing his feeling, and just get comfortable with Billy all cuddled up to him, but he’s a front sleeper, and Billy is fucking hot in more ways than one, so when it’s evident that’s not going to work, he clears his throat, announcing into the silence, “You’re smotherin’ me, Bill.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath behind him, like Billy had just woken up, and a soft little hum of a question, “Hm?”

“You’re like, on top of me, man.” Steve informs him, like he didn’t notice he was half laying on him, but Billy answers bluntly, voice all tired and scratchy, “Don’t care.”

That sort of confuses Steve. He’d been expecting an apology, for Billy to roll over and them to pretend this never happened in the morning, and it’s got his mind, and his heart, racing a mile a minute, because Billy isn’t the only one with a helpless crush, there’s a reason Steve flew 2,000 miles just to see him.

So he asks, before he can lead himself on, “Just to be clear, is this an accidental thing that only isn’t awkward because we’re friends or is this like, meaningful?”

Billy just hums, pulling him even closer, making Steve feel small, “Go to sleep, Steven.”

“Okay.” He tries to, shoving his arm under the pillows and shifting under Billy’s weight so he’d be comfortable enough, but it’s just nagging at his lovesick brain, “But seriously man, I don’t know what I should take away from this.”

Billy sighs softly, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, maybe because he was tired, maybe because Steve was being Steve, “Look, you’re in my bed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because of the couch, I thought you were just a cuddler or something.”

“Nope. This was all by design.”

“So then the couch..”

“Was perfectly fine, yeah. Damn thing even has a fold out.”

“You did this on purpose?”

“Thought I made that pretty obvious.”

Steve pouts, sitting up so Billy has to let go of him, “Well if you’re so annoyed with me, I’ll just leave you to get back to sleep.”

“Oh no. It’s much too late for that. I’m thinking we’re going to have to find another way to spend the time now. And, well, since you’re already here...”

[angerstagram]

monster among men // calum (SMUT)

boxer!calum

Pairing:  Calum + Y/N

Words: 4.6k

Rating:  X. For, you know, sex.

Description:  Calum is your long time boyfriend but he’s also a boxer. When his trainer says the two of you can’t have sex before the big match, you find that much easier said than done.

Warning: Oral sex, mentions of violence (for sport).

Author’s Note: I wrote this in one go and haven’t edited it!! Please forgive the typos. Stay tuned for a part two!

——————————————

Calum threw one last punch at the now well-abused punching bag, watching it swing slowly back and forth—toward him, then away, then toward him again—and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The air in the gym was thick with sweat and dirt as men all around him trained against sparring partners, trainers, or a giant bag of sand, like him.

His trainer, Sal, came up behind him and squirted some gatorade in his mouth before helping him remove his gloves. “That was great, Cal. Your form is better than 97% of the guys in here.”

Calum smirked. “My form is better than 100% of the guys in here and you know it, Sal.”

Sal smiled at Calum but refused to boost his ego. “Well your form isn’t gonna win you a belt, Cal. Not on its own. I need you to keep up your power all the way to the last punch.” Sal was talking excitedly with his hands now, throwing fake punches at the air as though it were 1987 and he was back in the ring.

“Don’t worry about my power, Sal. Just get me in the ring and I’ll take it from there.” Calum wiped the towel Sal handed him against the back of his neck and then over the planes of his chest where little beads of sweat had gathered.

“Alright, big shot.” Sal gestured his head toward the ring and Calum climbed in, letting Sal strap the gloves back on once he was inside.

Sal slid on a pair of punching mitts and held them in front of Calum’s face. “Focus on me, Cal. Right here.”

Calum started throwing punches and Sal met them every time. Every time Calum dropped his guard, Sal would take advantage and hit Calum in the face with a mitt until Calum’s cheek was red and starting to swell.

They went on like that for the better part of an hour, before Sal finally let Calum take a break at the edge of the ring.

“It’s that girl, Calum. She’s inside your head. It’s all well and good to get laid when you don’t have a belt on the line. But if you’re spending all your time thinking about what little date you’re gonna go on and picking up a nice bouquet of pansies or some shit, you’re head ain’t gonna be where it needs to be.”

Calum knew that Sal was trying to rip him up and make fun of him by playing on age-old stereotypes, but Calum could’t even hear him.

As soon as Sal mentioned flowers Cal could smell your perfume. He could feel your skin under his fingertips, the soft give of your hips as he squeezed them. It was as though you were standing right in front of him, his mouth pressing soft kisses to the nape of your neck as you worked in the kitchen. He was pulling your back to be flush with his chest, the shape of your ass pushing deliciously into his —

“You’re not even listening to me, are ya?” Sal’s voice cut into Calum’s reverie and suddenly he was whipped back into the gym.

“I get it, no girls before the match. I hear you, Sal.” If the guys wanted to believe that Calum was a womanizer who was bedding a different woman every night, he would let them. But he wouldn’t jeopardize this match for anything.

————————————————

Calum was really, truly planning on staying strong until his match. But then he got home and you were standing there wearing one of his cotton t-shirts, barefoot and swaying your hips in time to the music playing through the stereo. Everything smelled amazing, the food you had simmering on the stovetop, the candle lit on the coffee table, the summer breeze drifting in through the open windows.

He slipped off his shoes and padded into the kitchen while you faced away from him. He knew you didn’t hear him come in over the sound from the stereo, so he had the advantage as he walked up behind you and gave you a playful slap on the ass.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the spoon into the sauce you had been stirring and letting out a yelp. “Calum Thomas!” you explained, licking the sauce off your thumb where it had splashed when you dropped the spoon.

“Hmmm,” Calum let out a low hum as he nuzzled his face into your neck, just as he had imagined earlier. He let out a soft sigh, the sound of a man who was exactly where he wanted to be after a long day. “Hey, let me have a taste, too,” he murmured, turning your chin between his fingers and kissing you deeply.

You twisted yourself in his arms so that your back was to the stove and your chest pressed against his. You loved when he came home like this; worked up from a day of hard exercise, hair still wet from his shower at the gym, the muscles in his arm thick and corded under his t-shirt where you traced your fingers.

His mouth wandered down your neck, his open mouth warm against your pulse points. You were breathing heavier now and he knew it, pressing his palm against the small of your back and drawing you impossibly closer to him.

“So, um,” you tried to string a sentence together as the feeling of his lips on your skin scrambled your thoughts. “How was work?”

Your little joke passed over him without laughter, his focus unyielding. He was always so focused on whatever task was at hand that he often couldn’t see or hear the world around him. Times like this, that trait came in handy.

You laced your fingers through his wet hair and scratched softly at the back of his head, bringing his focus briefly back to reality. Calum raised his face to yours again and smirked against your lips. “Work was great, sweetie. And how was your day?”

Calum loved playing pretend like that. Pretend like you two were a normal couple; that he had a normal 9-5 job pushing papers behind a desk in a suit and tie and you drove a mini-van or some shit. A joke that made it seem in moments like this that he wasn’t in physical danger 95% of his day and you didn’t spend thousands of hours of your life scared that one wrong punch would be the end of him.

But you couldn’t think about that now, not when he was hooking his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisting you over onto a clear spot of the counter. Not when he was standing between your open knees and pulling you closer to his chest again, his arms circling your back and his mouth hot and needy against yours.

His kisses were urgent and all-consuming, pulling the breath of you and energizing you all at the same time. You didn’t realize he had pulled your hair out of it’s ponytail until you felt it cascade down your back. He pressed a kiss behind your ear and bit it lightly, causing you to laugh at the aggression.

“What’s gotten into you, Hood?” you asked breathlessly, teasing him for his ability to go zero to ninety in 3.5 seconds. Something in the tightness of his back and the set of his jaw told you something was up, though. “At least let me turn off the sauce so it doesn’t burn.”

Now he was laughing at you, his chest rumbling against yours. “I’m doing some of my best work here, babe, and you’re thinking about the sauce?”

“I just don’t want it to burn! I’ve been building these flavors for an hour, Cal.”

He didn’t stop laughing, but humored you by reaching over and switching off the burners. “Happy now?”

“I’ll be happier when you tell me what’s going on,” you said softly as you rubbed circles against his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the muscles there.

He dropped his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your lips. He knew he would have to bring it up sooner or later, but he didn’t think he would have to say it so soon. “I, um, well.” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “Basically, Sal thinks that we shouldn’t, um.”

You dipped your head, searching for his eyes. Trying to follow along with his train of thoughts going nowhere. “Sal thinks we shouldn’t what, Cal?”

“Sal thinks we shouldn’t be, um, romantic before the championship match.” Cal almost looked like he was blushing. For someone that was so confident and uninhibited while you were actually being romantic, he often had a hard time talking about it when you weren’t.

Your face was deadpan as you looked at him. “Sal says we can’t fuck before the match,” you paraphrased in an unenthusiastic voice.

Now he was definitely blushing, the color rising in his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “Um, well, yeah.”

“The match that’s in three weeks.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your trainer, a man who hasn’t had a wild night of passion in over a century, says that you and I cannot fuck for 21 days.”

“Yeah.”

“And that will do…what exactly? It will help your form?”

“No, my form is great, actually. It’s my power on the last punch that needs work,” Calum replied, genuinely not realizing that you were being sarcastic.

“Then why the fuck did you come in here and start kissing me like that, jackass?” You swatted at his shoulder and dropped your head to his shoulder, huffing at the injustice of it all.

Calum laughed at your frustration, rubbing calming circles into the small of your back again but you pushed against his shoulders.

“You really can’t touch me if you don’t want me to jump you right now, Calum.”

The look in your eyes made him see you weren’t really joking. Calum felt a sudden rush of conflicting emotions; half feeling guilty that he had done this to you, and half feeling proud that he had a girl who wanted him as badly as he wanted her all the goddamn time.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, love, I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I wanted a little something to tide me over.” He was smirking now, leaning in to give you another kiss but you turned your head to the side in defiance.

He tossed his head back in defeat, taking a step back and throwing his hands up to signal that he wouldn’t pressure you.

But that’s not what you wanted, either. It was very confusing, really. He had worked you up and then left you high and dry, so you were just as much want and need and greed as you were angry and annoyed.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back against you, shifting forward on the counter. “If you want to tide me over, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you said against his lips, sliding your hand down the front of his shorts and palming him over his underwear.

Calum groaned and bucked involuntarily against your hand before grabbing your wrist. “Baaabe, we can’t,” his voice almost a whine.

You slipped your hand back out of his shirt obediently and placed it back on his shoulders. “Fine,” you conceded. “I guess I’ll just have to go take care of myself. You can finish up dinner, right?”

Giving his shoulders a light push, Calum stepped back, surprised. You slid off the counter and began walking out of the kitchen toward your bedroom before feeling his hand grab your wrist. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

He pulled your wrist to turn you around, holding your hand to his cheek and pressing his mouth where it met your wrist. He held it there for what felt like forever, the worlds slowing down and your heart speeding up as you concentrated on the feeling of his lips against your palm. He was looking at you from under his criminally long lashes, all dark lines and tan skin with a single wet curl hanging over his forehead.

“We can do this, together, I’m sure,” he murmured into your skin. “Now can we please eat this beautiful dinner you’ve worked so hard on?”

Breathing in through your nose and blowing out through your mouth, you focused on both calming down and cooling down. You really wished this place came with a goddamn air conditioner.

“Fine. You make the salad.”

————————————————————

A week went by like that. The tension growing thicker each day. Waking up next to Calum and feeling the shape of his body against your back, your front, your legs twisted between each other’s or splayed like snow angels. No matter the position, you woke up hot, every inch of your scorching where it touched his.

It really shouldn’t be this hard. You had been celibate voluntarily or involuntarily, for months at a time not that long ago. You were an adult who could survive a simple 21-day stretch without sex.

But that was all before you met Calum. Before you had been with Calum; known the way his body could make yours feel. Before you knew the way he could play your body like a fine-tuned instrument, his every touch lighting a fire inside of you that threatened to melt you from the inside out.

And it was in moments like this, when the early morning sun was streaming in through the curtains and causing a cold yellow light to dance over his golden skin that you felt so acutely what he could do to you. You lay awake just staring at him. At his long, black eyelashes curling so beautifully over his closed eyes. His messy morning hair curling haphazardly over his forehead. His strong jaw line creating a line that led down his neck to the shape of his collarbone where it stood out over the swell of his bare chest.

His breathing was slow, the rise and fall almost lulling you back to sleep. But then he spoke. “You’re being creepy,” he murmurs without opening his eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you replied innocently, swiping his hair off his forehead and running your finger down his cheek to his jaw.

“Staring at me looking all sexy and asleep isn’t going to help your predicament, see cheeks,” he joked as he slowly came into consciousness.

“How do you do that without opening your eyes?”

He turned his face to press his mouth to the pulse in your wrist, one eye peeking open to stare at you in the morning light. “I’ll tell you one day.”

You curled into his side, setting your chin into his shoulder to stare at him up close. “I think I’ve been rather good, actually. I haven’t pressured you even once, even when I really wanted to jump your bones.”

He laughed, curling to face you on his arm, your bodies forming two parentheses barely overlapping each other under the mustard yellow sheets. “You’ve wanted to jump my bones, hmm?” He ran his hand down your back to your underwear, teasing the skin just under the hem of his cotton t-shirt that you had worn to bed.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “When you come home all sweaty from the gym in those short ‘80s shorts. How could I resist?” Your voice was joking but you really weren’t. Those were the times you really felt like no championship would be worth dying a slow, horny death.

“Well you’ve been very patient.” Calum pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long has it been, anyway?”

“Eight days,” you replied too quickly.

Calum noticed your eagerness and laughed. “Eight days. Hm. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat but you didn’t let yourself get your hopes up. Not after yesterday, when he had texted you I have a surprise for you when you get home ;) and you arrived home prepared to see a naked Calum covered in whipped cream or something….only to find him with an extra-large pizza from your favorite restaurant. Granted, that had been a pretty good surprise. But it didn’t change the fact that you only thought of him a tease with no action to back up his big talk.

“Oh I’m certain I deserve a reward,” you replied, giving him a playful slap on the ass.

“Whatever shall we do about that?” he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose everywhere his breath ghosted over you.

Calum rolled you onto your back, throwing his leg over your waist to rest his full chest against yours. Maybe you could get excited, after all.

He pressed small kisses against your neck, nipping at your skin to make you gasp. When you moved your hands to twist them through his hair he grabbed them and pressed them to the pillows above your head, twining your fingers together and making your breath come out unsteadily.

He kissed you deeply, the air leaving your lungs. Suddenly your entire body was nothing but a pile of unmitigated need, a live wire that sparked everywhere his mouth touched. And his mouth on yours made you feel like he was breathing your life into your lungs and pulling it back out all at the same time.

It was an effect no man had ever had on you before. The ability to turn you inside out like this. Was it because you were in love with him? So completely in love with him that it made the want and the need and lust and sex and love all mix up with each other in your mind until they were a single force driving you toward peak after peak.

And he had barely even gotten started. He had you pinned between his strong arms, the muscles in his bicep flexing as he held himself over you. He ground his pelvis into yours, your back arching to meet each delicious thrust. God, he hadn’t even really touched you yet.

Calum held himself above you to watch the effect his actions had on you. The way your eyebrows furrowed together as he rubbed against you. The way you shivered when he traced one finger up your arm and over the swell of your chest to cup your breast over your shirt.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” you murmured. “Dry humping my boyfriend while his mom watches TV in the living room.”

“My mom is here?” Calum looked over his shoulder as though he would find her standing right behind him.

You laughed and used his distraction to push him onto his back. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You peeled his t-shirt off of you and threw it on the floor, immediately forgotten.

Calum drank you in above him, pupils blown out with lust, watching you closely to see what you would try to do next. His body looked relaxed but you knew that in reality he was like a predatory cat preparing to strike. That his lazy exterior could spring into action before you could realize what had happened.

Not wanting him to steal your pleasure from you, you acted before he could. First you slid your fingers down your panties and gathered some of the wetness that had grown there before rubbing your fingertips slowly over your clit. Your mouth pouted open into a gasp, reveling in the sensation, grinding harder as you chased that pleasure.

You slapped your other hand to his chest, your fingertips digging crescent moons into his bronze skin as you rolled your hips over your hand, and by extension, his growing erection.

Calum sat up suddenly. His face was still relaxed, but the speed with which he moved gave away how much your action had affected him. He pressed his chest flush with yours and kissed you hotly.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pulled your hand out from your panties and pressed your fingers into his mouth. His tongue laved slowly over your fingertips, drawing a long moan from you, the air between the two of you growing thick and electric.

“God, you’re killing me, Cal,” you moaned. He ran his fingers down to your hips again, digging into the flesh and rolling you against him. Back and forth, back and forth, rolling you quickly toward an orgasm thanks largely to how long it had been since your last one.

“Do you,” Cal pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, “do you touch yourself when I’m away?” Calum’s voice sounded genuinely quizzical, as though he were discussing the weather or asking you for directions.

“I, um.” Your brain was short circuiting as he pressed you harder and faster against him, your wet panties rubbing against your clit like a tongue. He pressed another kiss to your bare chest, nipping you just under your collarbone before taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Well? Do you?” He repeated, his hot breath causing you to shiver where it met your pebbled nipple.

“No. Um.” The screws were coming loose in your brain. Everything you wanted to do with him, do to him, were flashing over the inside of your eyelids as he drew you to your peak. “Not since, um, not since you said we couldn’t, oh god.”

Calum pulled away and you whined at the loss. He was looking at you intently, as though trying to judge if you were being serious. “You mean that?” He slid his hand down the back of your panties and slid one finger inside you easily. You gasped at how unexpected it was and moaned as he used that hand to pull you back and forth into the grinding motion he had you in before. “You really haven’t had an orgasm for over a week?”

“Yeah, I mean it,” your voice was increasing in pitch and your eyes were shut tight. “Fuck, Calum, don’t stop.”

But Calum did stop. At least, he stopped long enough to throw you onto your back and slide comfortably to rest his head just above your mound. “You’ve been an even better girl than I thought,” Calum praised, his voice still gravelly this early in the morning. “Now let’s see about that reward.”

Calum pulled your underwear off quickly and pressed his tongue flat against you, licking a thick stripe from your opening to your clit. You keened loudly, your back arching when he finally gave you what you needed.

He didn’t intend to tease you. He really did want to reward you for your patience. But it was just so much fun to watch you writhe and moan under him as he teased one finger around your opening and licked figure eights just below your clit.

You were panting as the air of the room pressed heavily against your skin. If fucking Calum was a religious experience, having him eat you out was like leaving earth and going straight to heaven.

“Fuck, Calum. I can’t.” You had been so close to your climax before you felt your mouth on you that your brain was disconnecting.

Finally, he took mercy on you. Diving in to eat you like his last meal. He slid one finger into you, just up to the second knuckle, pressing up against your front wall as he flicked his tongue against your clit.

You bucked up into his face and he didn’t even bother holding you down, just tucked one arm under your thigh to steady himself before shoving two fingers into you up to their base.

He pumped his fingers into you steadily, pressing his tongue flat against you. He alternated his pace, pumping faster when he slowed his tongue and flicking his tongue quickly when he slowed his pumps.

“Oh my god, Calum. Fuck, I—,” you blubbered as your soul left your body. You curled your legs over his shoulders, your thighs shaking as you sprinted towards the high you were both chasing. All the want you had built up for a week had created an ache stronger than you even realized, and the beginning of your orgasm was like stretching an atrophied muscle. “Goddamn it that feels so fucking good.”

When he knew you were going to fall over the edge, Calum slowed his tongue and hooked his fingers to press firmly against your g-spot. He tapped them rapidly against that spot as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you reached your peak. You clamped your knees against his ears, locking him in place as you finally fell over the edge. Your entire body shook as the orgasm rolled from where his fingers still tapped inside you out to your fingers and down to your toes.

Even as you reached your peak he didn’t stop, pumping his fingers and scissoring them to rub against every wall, running his tongue over you until there wasn’t a nerve left below your waist that he hadn’t annihilated.

It was like his fingers were fucking the air right out of your lungs. Connecting the two of you and unraveling you all at the same time.

“C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got another in you.”

And he was right, really. Except it wasn’t exactly a second orgasm as it was a second wave of the first that had never stopped. He stayed like that for a long time, never letting you come down, pulling one after another from you until you had to shove his face away.

He kissed his way back up your body, holding his hand still against your mound as you came down, its warmth soothing as your body shook.

Finally he pressed his mouth against yours and you could taste yourself. You didn’t have the energy to kiss him back. Your lips just hung open as your breath came out in small pants. He rolled over onto his side and pulled the sheet over both of you.

“You are really fucking good at that,” you said finally, flinging the back of your hand against his chest.

Calum nuzzled his nose against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Only the best for my girl,” he laughed, taking the compliment in stride.

You glanced down at the tent in the sheet where it lay over his waist. “Just, uh, just give me a minute. I’ll get right on that.” You gestured lazily toward his obvious erection.

“No, no. Today was about you.” Calum rolled you so that he was spooning you and ran his hand over the back of yours, twisting your fingers together. “I still need to wait until after the match.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck and breathed slowly through his nose to try and bring his own body temperature down. Your thoughts were becoming coherent again.

You turned your head to look at him, really look at him. You kissed him deeply, trying to convey to him the feeling that had overwhelmed you. “I love you, Calum. So goddamn much.”

He smiled but he didn’t laugh. The light danced in his eyes where they crinkled at the corners. He kissed you again and brushed his nose against yours. “I love you, too. Now go back to sleep.”

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself.  And @emkay512​ for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world. 

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better. 

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration. 

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along. 

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed. 

 The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole. 

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him. 

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide. 

“NOW, Leo!” 

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.”  Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace. 

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap. 

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress. 

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography

@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09

Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags:  @sanchita012 ​  @narrytheworld ​  @queenwalton   @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess   @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

[certifiedceraunophile]

Hi! A fan of your writing here. I just love the way you write Caroline. An Avoidable Heart is my comfort fic and I am constantly in awe with the way you write and craft the dynamics in that story. Caroline's inner monologue is just priceless and God! I just love that intro scene where Caroline is walking into the Mikaelson compound with vampires and hybrids in the surrounding ready to pounce on her.

I would love to hear how you would have visualized Caroline crossing over into TO or not? Like in what season and why? How it would have likely gone?

Thank you!

First of all lovely anon gimme a moment to breathe, asdfghjkl why are people so lovely 😭😭🥺✨ It means sooo much to me that you’d take the time to jump into my inbox and send these kind words, like please I’m not worthyyyyy, But you make me smile and feel really freaking warm so *handcuffs your hand to mine* you aint leaving 💖✨💞🙃

But OK ALSO oh my god dude THAT CAROLINE WALTZS INTO THE COMPOUND AND TAKES ON A COUPLE HUNDRED VAMPIRES BY HERSELF SCENE???? Ughhhhh I’m sorry but I have SUCH a boner for Caroline in that, like my badass -I admit kinda op- QUEEN IS HERE and she’s fucking shit up, I’m sorry but I love that scene so much it’s so dear to me I was killing myself over how self-indulgent and grossly Over powered Caroline is but like idgaf man it’s such a hot scene and Caroline is practically invincible and we just love to see that, so seriously lovely anon, you telling me you LOVE that scene??? Puts the biggest smile on my face and reassures me a LOT bc I was whining and cribbing over how absolutely unbalanced that scene is to literally everyone BUT LIKE YOU JUMPING OUT OF NOWHERE and pointing that exact scene UGHH…...meant to fucking be the both of us 💖💞✨

And ALSO Caroline’s monologue is quite honestly the easiest inner monologue out of the three voices I wrote for that work, Klaus’s is the real pain in the ass tbvh like it is NOT easy writing pretentious besotted losers with a Kardashian complex especially when you need to make them sound cool when they’re the lamest OP dude bros to ever exist - and no I don’t hate Klaus although I seem to try my darndest to convince ppl I do- I just personally believe that a feral fucker like that with a thousand years of existence under his belt can grow a pair and graduate from his kindergarten level of emotional maturity to adult sometime soon, But then on the flipside he’s so grossly adorkably smitten and feral for Caroline plus hella horny for her all the time that its usually easy to write the trashed and devoted idiot he is into something pretentious and powerful and potent when relating to his unflappable arrogance and his narcissism, but sometimes I also need him to be *deep* and ffs profound for the sake of the plot and jfc my muse just wont work with me on that, she’s like I’m sorry I’m not about to bust my ass to make this mongrel intelligible like no sir all I wanna do is make him uncomfortably horny for Caroline and leave him like that.

So smh yeah the struggle is real….but lmao Caroline is just so precious and fiercely protective and just so achingly lonely in that story, so desperate for connection and trust and intimacy yet so guarded and impervious to everyone like it hurts me to write her like that but it really challenges me as an author to balance out her inherent light with the “void” I create in her and through her, so yeah it’s a very fulfilling task and I wouldnt change it one bit, and also I had to balance out her physical op-ness w half a millennium of the ugliest emotional trauma lol so I guess that figures, but the point being….once again I am overjoyed knowing that you liked a facet of the story that I tried so hard to make as authentically Caroline and achingly real and moving as I can and I cannot possibly feel more accomplished than rn for it so ty ty ty ty for reaching out to me and telling me *tackle hugs* It makes me GIDDY knowing that you enjoyed that particular part of the story like ugh stab me please you're too sweet.

And ok NOW, coming to The Originals part of the ask, (also please note that when I say TO headcanon; Hope does not exist, Hayley is a dead in a ditch and ofc Klaus will stop being that lil bitch they tried to pawn off as Klaus in TO) 

HEADCANON 1

Honestly my biggest headcanon when it comes to TO crossovers somehow always include non-humanity!Caroline like it’s just so perfect to me?? The opportunity to make shit BLOW UP b/w them like imagine the DEBAUCHERY, the heat, the SEXUAL TENSION, the repression of one Klaus Mikaelson, the EXPLORATIONS, and omg the role reversal when Klaus has to be the voice of moral reason between them and not bc he believes Caroline would not be able to stand herself if she does something heinous and monstrous but bc he wants her to be completely and utterly herself, and yk *aware*, when she DECIMATES ppl to the ground and is in full-on predator mode, like he wants her monster to come out and play with him when no part of Caroline is locked away or suppressed, so obviously when she is w/o her humanity KLAUS exercises restraint on her behalf, like can you imagine that, Klaus restraining himself and being the vague, extremely broken and just largely inaccurate moral compass between the two of them for ALL the wrong reasons- and the entirety of NOLA just standing there watching him herd this baby vampire who seems to be intent on riling him up and angering him when all she is doing is giving him a massive hybrid hard on, like IMAGINE THE GOODNESS of non-humanity Caroline wrecking NOLA and Klaus letting her wreck it bc he is helpless in the face of Caroline Forbes and also bc he is quite honestly *enjoying* the debauchery himself so why put a damper on the festivities.

-I might wanna add that I favour this headcanon a lot bc I genuinely do not even remotely *like* the idea of NOLA as Klaus's chosen place to set his roots so like I would love Caroline going to NOLA and destroying everything there just bc I detest NOLA and the storyline behind it in TO. (yes is it petty? Obvi, but like I am a petty soul and I make no apologies ma’am)

HEADCANON 2

So yeah that’s my main TO headcanon, but my other one being, one I talk about very frequently, scream about in tag rants to an obsessive level, and like this is a cracky one but still very valid, where Caroline rolls up to NOLA humanity intact and all, finds Hayley preggo and is just laughing her fucking ass off bc anybody ANYBODY, with half a brain and a two minute convo w klaus would know how UTTERLY stupid the entire baby shit is especially when it’s with an immemorable one night stand, and Caroline’s just losing her shit about how like an entire city is obssessed w this baby and she just straight up tells Klaus he’d SUCK as a dad (which he really does tho like he was a shitty fucking dad canonically too) and Klaus is just like *sigh* girl tell me about it. I mean basically he’s finally relieved that someone is on his side about the whole baby thing and how he definitely does not want his entire millennium of life to finally sum up to this one squalling leaking stinky infant/unicorn Hayley is apparently baking in her oven, and I say this headcanon is cracky bc klaus would never have put up w this mess long enough for Caroline to come in and sort it out, there’s this preferred method of disposal of his called heart ripping that would've been employed quite early on and honestly saved us all a lot of brain cells and minused years of life, bc let’s be real any Klaus who’s NOT a lil snivelling bitch wearing a Klaus skinsuit would’ve yeeted the baby and the mama first chance he got, and that’s just how I see it.

Lmao I really hope I didnt scare you away w my *strong* opinions Ik they can be a bit much but I enjoy having them so theyre not going anywhere, anyways this ask answer got WAYYYY too long but I’m hoping I answered your question well with this or atleast left you slightly confused and bemused over my feral screaming....either ways I’m really really really happy to have got your ask and the chance to rant so much bs, Twas cathartic and honestly I had nothing to do today so I was more than happy to dish this baby out for you. Thank you so much sweet anon for putting a smile on my face today I am absolutely HONOURED by your words you’sa cutie 💖💞✨🗣🗣

[bastardtetsu]

critical thinking | ch①

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major 

※ mlist | ● ② ③ ④

you knew it was a dumb bitch move to procrastinate on your science requirement.

trying to schedule gen-eds around the demanding requirements of your theatre degree was already a nightmare, and your aversion to maths and sciences makes it even more difficult to find classes that both fit in your schedule AND don’t make you want to actively drop out of school. you weren’t sure why you thought putting off your one and only science credit until your final semester was going to solve any of that. so, you couldn’t be shocked when your only option to graduate on time ended up being 9am chemistry 1. on a monday, no less.

the first class is just as bad as you expect. the lecture drags on for ages, and as much as you will your sleepy morning brain to wrap your head around the concepts being thrown at you, no amount of caffeine, color-coded notes, or mental gymnastics can ford the river of brain-muddling frustration standing between you and a passing grade - the one you need to graduate.

panic begins to set in as you visualize all the hard work you put into your degree rendered useless, all because of a class that doesn’t even have to do with your field of study. who decided there had to be a science requirement anyway? i don’t need fucking chemistry to get a theatre degree??

“if you’re having trouble with anything,” your professor announces, bringing your attention back to the lecture that's finally wrapping up, “the tutoring center on campus is a great resource. i also hold office hours at the times listed on the syllabus. that’s our time for today folks, have a good week.”

you check the syllabus - all of the professor’s office hours conflict with your other classes, of course. asking your classmates is out of the question, seeing as you’re the lone arts major in a sea of STEM and pre-med. as annoying as it is to have to add another item to your schedule, tutoring seems like the only option if you want any hope of graduating. luckily you have some time before your next class, so you pack up your things and head for the tutoring center.

you pray that a decent chem tutor is available during any of your limited free time as you approach the lady at the desk of the tutoring office. she informs you of several with hours later in the week, none of which align with your schedule, and one who is available for the next hour. you figure tutoring right after class isn’t a bad deal - especially considering it’s your only option. the woman gives you a classroom number and a name - kuroo tetsuro - and you set out.

it doesn’t take you long to find the right classroom, but you aren’t prepared for the sight that is waiting for you there. a strong jawline and a mess of black hair that appears to stick up on its own catch your eye first as he taps away at his phone screen, his bored slouch doing nothing to hide his imposing height.

“um... hi, kuroo?” you say tentatively. his eyes glance up from his phone, slightly startled.

“oh, hey,” he responds, sitting up a bit, “you here for tutoring?”

“i am,” you reply with a half smile, “y/n.”

“kuroo. nice to meet you, y/n,” he pulls out the chair next to him as an invitation, “what year are you?”

“i’m a senior,” you say as you make your way over and sit down, “i’m in chem 1.” he definitely seems taller up close, even sitting down.

“chem 1? as a senior?” he asks derisively, his lips curling into a smirk. embarrassment and annoyance shoot through your chest.

“i’m a theatre major, alright,” you respond dryly, “i’m just trying to get my science credit and go.”

“left it ‘til the last minute, huh?” that smirk is still on his face.

“yeah, not my best decision,” you reply, trying not to let your annoyance seep through, “but i’m just trying to pass this class so i can graduate.”

“well, hopefully i can help with that,” he says smugly, “i may be a lowly business major, but i’m pretty good with chem if i do say so myself.”

a business major. of course. you’re familiar with the future capitalist machinery of the business school from your limited experience with the frat parties they so densely populated. needless to say, the impression was not good.

“so what do you need help with?”

“um...” you pondered, “all of it?” he snickered.

“you’re gonna have to be more specific if you wanna get anywhere.” his tone is dripping with amusement. is he trying to piss you off?

“ugh,” you let out an exasperated grunt, suddenly averse to showing any kind of weakness to this jerk. you pull out your notebook and flip to the page where you had attempted to take notes earlier. “this stuff.”

he leans over to take a look at your notes, and as his eyes scan the page you suddenly notice his smell - some fancy-smelling cologne with like, sandalwood or some shit - and his strong but elegant bone structure. i could cut myself on those cheekbones, you think.

“these notes are terrible.”

annnndddd he ruined it.

“well i can’t exactly take good notes if i have no clue what’s going on,” you counter, “isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me with?”

“i can try,” he says with an amused grin, “but I’ve never seen someone struggle this much with the basics on day one.”

now, you could put up with a lot of shit, but the one thing you cannot stand is being condescended to. especially not by some egotistical capitalist fucker who barely knows you.

“look,” you say pointedly, holding back the urge to throat punch him right then and there, “i’m really busy, and i just wanna pass this class, so if you could help me without being a dick about it i’d really appreciate it.”

“aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

his lips twist back into that patronizing smirk - he’s definitely trying to get a rise out of you.

“fuck off,” you say with a roll of your eyes, refusing to take his bait, “are you gonna teach me chemistry or not?”

he chuckles quietly again, thoroughly entertained. “sure. only because I’m so kind, and i could use the challenge.”

you scoff, but hold yourself back from retorting. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

at first, it’s excruciating. you loathe this douchey business bro getting off on being condescending while explaining chemistry to you like you don’t understand anything - which, to be fair, you don’t. but that somehow makes you resent him more.

granted, once you actually get down to business, kuroo is actually a pretty good tutor. he’s not actively annoying when he’s actually trying to teach you something, and he’s surprisingly patient and good at breaking things down. dude is smart, there’s no denying that.

nevertheless, even when he’s not being snarky, every correction he makes seems to fluster you more. you hate looking stupid in front of others, and something about kuroo seems to amplify that feeling by a thousand. you blame his attitude.

as you fumble trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar numbers, symbols, & formulas, you’re simultaneously attempting to maintain a shred of dignity in front of this man who clearly thinks of you as the dumbest bitch on the planet. and the more you struggle, the more you worry he’s right.

“seeeee? i told you it wasn’t that hard!” he hums as you finish off another homework question you’d been struggling with. he can’t seem to praise you without being patronizing as fuck, either. you look up from your page momentarily to shoot him a glare.

frustration and embarrassment simmer inside of you with each of his snide remarks, but you hold yourself together and divert the attention back to studying each time. the restraint it takes not to deck him right in his pretty face is honestly deserving of a nobel peace prize.

“not bad,” he muses as you finally finish off the last of your homework, “and it only took you two and a half hours!”

“i’m floored,” you deadpan. your brain is too exhausted to formulate a more clever comeback. then you suddenly realize - “hang on... has it actually been two and a half hours? i thought you were only available for one??”

“technically,” he shrugs, “that’s when my tutoring hours end. but I wasn’t doing anything after, and you seemed like you needed the extra help.” that shitty smile is back. you can feel your blood boiling, but at the same time that... is actually pretty nice of him?

“ah... th-thanks,” you mumble, still resistant to showing any signs of weakness - much less gratitude - to the messy-haired prick.

“so, should i expect you back next week?” his stare reminds you of a cat sizing up its prey.

“uh... maybe,” you say. you honestly don’t have an answer yet. “i have to run though, i’ve got another class to get to.”

“don’t be a stranger,” he grins, “you’re gonna need a lot of help if you wanna graduate.”

you shoot him another glare as you swing your bag over your shoulder.

“i’ll think about it.”

he's still smirking at you as you walk out the door.

—

as much as you’d like to deny it, there’s not much to think about. none of the other chem tutors are available when you are, and there’s no way you’re passing the class without the extra help. and, as insufferable as he is, kuroo did help you get through your entire first week of homework successfully.

of course, you still resent having to rely on some nasty ass, pompous business major to mansplain chemistry to you every week so you can graduate. well, technically it’s not mansplaining since you don’t actually know anything about chemistry. and you technically also asked him to do it. but god, does he have to be such a dick about it??

it’s just an hour or two once a week, you reassure yourself, you can put up with it.

this is easier said than done, of course. the following monday, you begrudgingly approach the same classroom, empty except for one (1) chickenhead douchebag, who promptly stares you down with the most shiteating smile you’ve ever seen.

“oya oya~ look who decided to come back!” he croons.

“don’t flatter yourself, it’s not like I had much of a choice,” you respond flatly. why is he still looking at me with that dumb expression?

“true, there’s no way you’re passing on your own.”

“listen,” you reply pointedly, “some people have better things to do than worry about how many neutrons are on hydrogen or whatever”

“hydrogen doesn’t have any neutrons.”

“COOL!!!! i just want to graduate!!”

“well then you’re gonna need to know that hydrogen doesn’t have any neutr-”

“ALRIGHT, i got it,” you huff, “can you just… help me figure out this balancing equations shit? WITHOUT being an asshole about it?”

“hmm… sorry, i can only accept one request at a time.”

this is gonna be a long fucking semester.

a/n: eeeeee this is the first time i’ve actually wholeheartedly attempted to write a fic in lord knows how long (possibly ever?? idk them memories repressed) and my first time posting my own writing so i hope y’all like it !! everybody who’s ready to see me trash talk k*roo t*tsuro say way ho

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 14

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~7,600

Warnings: Drugging, kidnapping, violence, gore, blood, heavy sexual themes

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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They were standing around the familiar slab of the conference room table, a lull having settled over the group as they finalized the last few details of their plan. Lilah fiddled with the hem of her dress, a deep blue off the shoulder body con that she was assured (by Kate) would fit the bill for what they needed. The heels were not too high that she couldn’t run, the ankle strap keeping them firmly in place. She’d borrowed the clutch that held a switchblade and a few other accouterments that she might need throughout the night.

Seth crossed his arms, his gaze on her, “Are we all on the same page?”

Lilah nodded, looking to Richie and Brasa, who were also nodding. The subterfuge that they’d decided on was a little more complicated than strictly necessary, but it gave the brothers Gecko the opportunity to do what they did best—steal. At least, that was what they hoped.

Brandon Lyle had been maneuvered into place as best as they could manage without actually getting into a room with him. Brasa had bought his debt. Lyle had been offered terms, now they waited to see how he would react.

Lilah had her own thoughts about it, thoughts that she’d voiced several times over. It surprised her how Brasa had sided with both Richie and Seth, the three of them forming a bizarre unit that assured her that the plan would go exactly how they wanted. She found herself outnumbered and out-reasoned over and over in a way that made her jaw clench.

Their mark was an idiot, and too dumb to know he was so stupid. He’d gotten in deep with some pretty big players and thought that his money, or his looks, or his brute force could get him out of it. There was only one way to effectively deal with this kind of person—a con.

It wasn’t even really a con, per se, though Lilah was certainly not one to indulge in semantics when it came to crime. It was just an elaborate distraction that would give both teams the time they needed to perform the real work. Seth and Richie would be on site, in case he brought the book with him. Brasa and Javier would be en route to his father’s house in case it was still in the hermit’s library.

Either way, they were getting that book tonight.

Lilah had been clear that Branden’s father wasn’t going to be harmed in this. He was an eccentric old book collector, an appreciator of the rare and the obscure. He wasn’t responsible for his son’s debt, nor was he responsible for the way in which it would need to be collected. She made no such advocacy for the younger Mr. Lyle.

Seth reached down and grabbed his jacket from where he’d draped it over the nearest chair, shrugging it on and shaking out the fabric, “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Don’t forget your comms,” Lilah said, pointing that them, “You guys need to be able to hear while we work.”

Holding up both hands defensively, Seth gave half a smile, “Alright, alright, we’ll put the comms in. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” she shot back, “Don’t fuck around. Get in, get the book, get out.”

“Yes, mother,” Richie intoned with humor.

She glared, but said nothing further.

Seth laughed and took a step back, “You coming?”

“Actually,” Brasa cut in, “I have a matter I’d like to discuss with Lilah. It will only take a moment.”

Richie was already moving towards the door, Seth hesitating as he watched Lilah for guidance.

She nodded, waving them off, “Go. I’ll head to the bar in a few minutes. I need to arrive separately, anyways. It’ll be good to have some delay.”

Watching as they both sauntered out, closing the door behind them, Lilah shifted on her heels and turned to look expectantly up at Brasa. He stood not too far away, looking at her with an inscrutable expression.

Lilah grew nervous under those eyes, her shoulders rising up towards her ears. He looked at her a few moments longer, his fingers curling into his palms. Though he wasn’t a man of very many words, his eyes could say a thousand things that left Lilah struggling to interpret. She shifted in her heels, eyes darting away from that penetrating gaze.

When he moved, it was a series of slow, even steps that brought him within a few inches of her. He took her hands, holding them lightly.

“I like this dress,” he murmured.

Lilah felt a warm rush rise beneath her skin at the compliment, “Thanks. I thought it might be a bit much to sell the grift, but I think I’d rather be overdressed.”

“No,” he replied, moving further into her space, “Its not too much.”

She smiled shyly, “Really?”

Brasa nodded, dropping a kiss onto her bare shoulder, following the line of muscle to her neck, beneath her chin, to her lips. He kissed her lightly, with a warm reverence that hinted at feelings she wasn’t quite ready to name.

More kisses followed, soft and sweet. He shifted his grip to pull her into his body by her hips. Lilah draped her arms over his shoulders, letting the slow press of his mouth lull her into comfort. She touched her tongue to his, traced along it, tasting. The hands on her hips squeezed into her flesh, a little moan sounding.

Breathing in, he deepened the kiss, teeth nipping. Lilah gasped when he nicked her skin, sucking on the tiny wound. He gripped her ass, hauling her upwards as he dove in for another searing kiss, a growl sounding from the back of his throat. Lilah held onto him, almost all of her weight held by the strength of his arms.

In a smooth, fluid motion, she was lifted and deposited on the conference table. Her body landed with a muffled thud, her legs dangling over the side. She braced a hand on the wood below as she caught her balance, her free hand digging into his button down to pull him closer.

Lilah was quickly becoming overwhelmed. He was everywhere—his taste, his smell, his body—he overpowered every sense that she had until all she could think was that she needed to get closer, needed to get more. Greedy hands traced hard muscle, her ankles wrapping around his calves as he stepped into the space she’d made for him between her thighs.

The tight hem of her dress, already straining, finally gave up and rolled upwards towards her hips. The fabric cut into her skin, every second of discomfort worth it to have Brasa pressed against her. Nose pressed into her neck, he licked at her skin, teeth scraping. His hands steadied her, kneading her curves,  holding inexorably to him.

“Lilah,” he murmured against her mouth, a kind of soft desperation in his tone.

She pulled back a little, catching his eyes and lifting her brows in question. His jaw was slack as he worked to find words, his gaze tracing over the curves of her face. Smiling a little, she cupped his cheeks, kissing him quickly.

When she leaned away, she asked, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

It occurred to her that she could just reach out to him, as she’d done many times, but Lilah’s gut told her that whatever he needed to say needed to be said out loud. She waited.

“Lilah,” he started again, his hands reaching down and gripping beneath her knees. He unwrapped her legs and set them down on the table, fingers pushing on her inner thighs to spread them wide.

She let him keep pressing her open, biting her lip to quell the feeling of being so exposed. He let the weight of his palms rest on the tops of her thighs, his eyes focused on the strip of fabric covering her mound. Lilah squirmed a little, couldn’t keep still when he was looking at her like that.

He said her name again, then, “Let me serve you.”

Staring at him in confusion, Lilah was about to ask what the fuck he meant, but comprehension quickly dawned when he dropped slowly onto his knees. She sucked in a breath as her pushed her dress further up her hips, the leather of his gloves rubbing sensuously over the newly exposed skin.

Brasa looked up at her, his head cocked to the side. Lilah felt her mouth purse as she tried to figure out what he was waiting for when she it suddenly clicked for her that he was asking for her to tell him ‘yes’. Huffing out a soft laugh, she grasped his forearms and nodded.

He looked...fucking delighted. Smiling so wide that she caught sight of his dimples, he leaned over and kissed her knee. He moved to the other side, his lips rubbing over her inner thigh. Here, he slowed, eyes half closed as he nuzzled her. The scratch of his stubble tickling, Lilah stifled another laugh as she carded her fingers in his hair.

Brasa laid a little path of kisses upwards, his thumbs pushing into her hips to tilt them forward. Lilah leaned back onto one hand, relaxing into the direction of his hands—she’d go wherever he wanted to lead in that moment.

With a strong pull, he jerked her closer to the edge. Surprised, Lilah let out a yelp and grabbed at his shoulder, the following laugh cut off when he dove in and licked a hot stripe upwards, his teeth catching. He lifted first one leg, then the other, over his shoulders, moving from side to side with wet, passionate kisses.

Lilah felt like she couldn’t breathe, her body warm and vibrating with anticipation as he made his way up towards her center. His fingers worked beneath the waistband of her panties, tugging them down. As Lilah was lifting her hips to help him get them off her as soon as possible, a knock sounded at the door.

“Lord Brasa,” came the voice that followed.

Her eyes closed, knowing that Javier would wait outside as long as Brasa wanted him to, but more than a little self conscious of him hearing what they were doing. She let out a long breath, disappointed but not surprised at the interruption. Without even looking at her phone, she knew that they were already behind schedule.

Brasa, for his part, didn’t seem to notice. He tugged again on her, eyes turned upwards to cast her a look of frustration. She looked down at the inky black, her breath catching as his hands flexed on her body. They stayed in that moment, suspended, the air sparking in a way that gave her a whole body shiver. He felt it, one side of his mouth quirking up in a self satisfied smirk.

Another knock, another call for his lord.

She smiled, unable to do anything but laugh as Brasa rolled his eyes and stood. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he dropped a lingering kiss on her mouth.

“This’ll be a quick job,” she said as he helped her down, her hands righting the fabric of her dress. “We do stuff like this all the time.”

Brasa took her hand, “You will be careful.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a directive. And, unlike most directives he gave her, Lilah was inclined to obey him. She nodded, smiling as she followed him out to where her car was waiting.

When she made it to the bar, Lilah took some time to get a feel for the room. The place was full of twenty-somethings, the music loud enough that any kind of conversation had to be yelled directly into one’s ear. She sighed, it was exactly as she expected.

Lilah pushed her hair behind her ear, using the motion to double check that her comm was secure. She took an extra moment to lift her toes in her heels, ensuring that they were as fitted to her feet as possible. The last thing she needed was to take a fall in her approach of the mark. He had to think of her as calm, confident—and, most of all, attractive. The set up wouldn’t work if he didn’t like her.

Deep breath.

Lifting her chin, Lilah began her approach. It constantly amazed her how people reacted to confidence, and a determined stride. If they weren’t too drunk to notice, most people got out of her way. The few that tried to catch her attention were quickly dismissed with the coldest look she could muster.

The VIP section wasn’t really so much as section as it was a few tables roped off with a bouncer nearby. Branden Lyle was sitting with several other men, a glass of dark liquor in his hand. He was dressed in a deep navy, a flash of gold around his neck. She managed to keep from rolling her eyes, but channeled her internal disgust into giving the bouncer a hard stare.

To his credit, the man didn’t seem bothered. He had about eight inches of height and a hundred and fifty pounds on her. Lilah had to crane her neck to look at him as she drew near.

“I’d like to speak to Mr. Lyle, please,” she announced genially.

Lilah found that the polite approach was usually the easiest way to get what she wanted when dealing with security. Too often, these guys were threatened, spit on, and pushed around by hot shots trying to get their way. A little civility was almost always unexpected, and almost always welcomed.

“No guests tonight, just business partners,” was his answer.

She gave him a winning smile and opened her clutch, pulling out the business card Richie had drawn up to give her a little more credibility.

“I am a business partner,” she asserted lightly as she handed the card over, “Mr. Lyle owes my bosses a debt. I think he’ll want to discuss terms as soon as possible.”

The bouncer looked at the card and then back at her before motioning for her to wait a moment. Hands folded in front of her, Lilah kept her expression serene as she watched the bouncer interrupt Mr. Lyle’s conversation, showing him the card. When the mark looked at her, she smiled a little, and bounced in her heels.

He laughed.

The little shit laughed. Lilah felt her lips press together as she resisted the urge to glare. Despite his easy dismissal, Brandon Lyle stepped into the first of many traps her team had in store for him tonight. He waved her forward.

Lilah sidled past the other ‘business partners’ as they left the table, her attention as much on the mark as possible. She sat demurely, setting her clutch on the table in front of her and fixing Branden with a friendly look.

He took her in, saying, “Ms. Corbett, I don’t think we’ve met.”

She lifted a shoulder, “We haven’t, but I’ve been told quite a bit about you by Mr. Pickerelle.” Lilah let that sink in, watching as his expression soured, “The good news for you is that you no longer owe him sixty grand. The bad news is that you now owe that money to my employers. They intend to collect tonight.”

Branden reached out and picked up his glass. He brought it halfway to his lips and paused, “If you’re here to threaten me, I can at least offer you a drink to soften the blow.”

Shaking her head, Lilah said, “What I said isn’t news. You were informed of the transfer of your loan two days ago. You were also informed of what my employers want to clear the debt completely.”

“Ah,” Branden replied around a swallow, “The book.”

Lilah echoed the last two words, “Yes.: She leaned forward on a forearm and cast him a coy glance, “Have you brought it, as we asked.”

He ticked his head to the side, “I did.”

This was good. It meant that the night would end early—thank God.

“Excellent. Do you have it here, or…”

Waving a hand towards the back of the room, “I asked the manager to lend me the use of his safe. Its downstairs.”

Trap number two. He’d not only disclosed the location, but he’d put it in the worst possible place to keep it—at least, when someone like Richie was trying to get at it.

We’re on it, came through her ear.

She breathed deeply, making a show of leaning back in her chair, “I think I’ll take that drink, now that you’ve shown good faith.”

The mark had absolutely not done that, but Lilah needed to buy the boys time to get in and get out. She put it at five minutes.

“What’ll you have?”

“Bourbon, rocks,” she answered.

Branden flagged down the bouncer and put in the order.

“While we wait,” Branden said with a curious gaze, “How about you tell me how you got into this line of work.”

Lilah considered the question, considered lying outright. It wasn’t necessary to come up with an elaborate backstory for this grift to work. She just needed enough surface details to convince him that she represented people who now owned his loan (which, technically, she did). He would fill in the other details on his own. Still, she needed to stall, and he looked interested enough.

“Well,” she said, crossing her legs and pretending to recall a memory. “I started out as an assistant at one of those cash advance places—you’re familiar?” When he nodded, she continued, “I showed some...aptitude, and I was invited to join a more lucrative venture.”

Branden lifted his brows, eyes dancing with surprise, “Aptitude?”

She smiled, as if laughing at a shared joke, “Yes, aptitude.”

He smiled along with her, “Would you mind elaborating?”

Lilah’s attention was diverted momentarily by the wait staff arriving with her bourbon. Branden took it from them and handed it to Lilah. She thanked him with a small salute, then took a sip. Like Seth, Branden had terrible taste in liquor. Unlike Seth, he didn’t seem to know it. Fuck, but it tasted like old sweat.

She barely concealed her grimace around a cough, “I’m adaptable. Very helpful in this business.”

Branden acknowledged her assertion with a dip of his head. He lifted his glass, “To adaptability.”

Loathe as she was to take another drink, Lilah gave a toast and sipped lightly. Swallowing was difficult, but she managed it. Glancing down into the glass, she eyed what was left. They’d poured her a healthy shot, a single cube of ice clinking against the sides.

“So,” Branden said, “You have to admit that its not just adaptability that got you where you are.” He leaned forward once more, saying, “You’re also beautiful.”

Her initial reaction was to dry heave, but she held it back. Instead, she gave him a small smile at the compliment, hoping that she wouldn’t have to actually flirt with him in order to hold his attention long enough to get the job done.

Not in the safe. Initiating Plan B.

Lilah felt anger rise up. The man had completely wasted their time. She set her jaw, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You’re right. Adaptability is not my only skill. I’m also a keen detector of bullshit.”

She stood, and wavered. Blood rushed into her skull, her eyesight blurring. Stomach roiling, Lilah had to brace her weight on the table.

“Clearly not good enough. Mikey?”

Hands gabbed at her, hauling her bodily up and over a massive shoulder. Panicked, Lilah screamed, the sound noted and ignored by the other patrons. Her stomach lurched and her head spun. Lilah had just enough energy to send out a call to Brasa as she was carried out the back door and thrown into the back of a van. Body limp, she could only stare at the streetlights as they passed by at an ever increasing speed.

She came to with a voice yelling in her ear, “Answer me, goddammit!”

Seth. Angry.

Her head hurt, her mouth dry. She swallowed painfully, “I’m here,” she croaked.

“Thanks to whatever god we haven’t met yet,” he sighed. “What happened?”

Lilah’s brain moved like molasses, her thoughts sticking together, “Drugs, I think.”

Everything hurt, her body shaking as she tried to get her bearings, “I’m in a room. Its cold. Fuck, its cold. I’m...tied to a chair. There are no windows.”

She could hear Seth repeating the information, though she didn’t quite understand why. As the seconds passed, her mind began to clear. The headache stubbornly remained, but Lilah blinked away the pain as much as she could. There would be time to feel pain later.

Shoulders moving, she tested the bonds of the rope. Too tight for her to get out of it. At least her legs weren’t tied down. She rocked from side to side. The chair was, unfortunately, pretty sturdy.

“How do we track your comm?” Seth asked.

Lilah sighed, “You got your cell?”

“Yeah.”

This was good, “Open it, code is two, seven, two, seven, two. Tap the ‘find me’ app. Click on my name, it should have my location, on it.”

From the back of her mind, she felt him growl. He pushed and pushed, until she couldn’t ignore the weight of him.

Querida…

“I’m okay,” she said back to him, the words filtering soundlessly. “A little banged up, but okay.”

Can you focus enough to let me through?

Through?

Yes, he urged, If you concentrate on the bond, I can get through to you. Fully. I’ll kill them, bring you back here.

Lilah’s vision swam with the effort of keeping the connection, “No. I can’t concentrate.”

Then, I will be with you shortly.

Lilah had just enough time to feel grateful before the only door of the room swung open and Branden walked in, Mikey strutting in behind. Lilah steeled herself, not sure where this would go.

“I think,” Branden began as he stood in front of her, “That you might work for powerful people, but those people wouldn’t give a shit if I killed you right now.”

Breathe.

“I think,” Lilah replied in a voice that was as stern as she could make it, “That you don’t know how wrong you are.”

He laughed, a high pitched, genuinely amused thing that grated on her very sensitized nerves. Behind him, Mikey also laughed. She sighed and crossed her legs, attempting to project confidence.

“You don’t have much time,” she continued, “I think you had better let me go.”

Branden’s eyes narrowed, though he was still smiling, “I know a bluff when I see one.”

Clearly, he did not.

“No bluff,” she shot back, “You don’t know what’s coming for you.”

Even now she could feel him nearing, even now that heat at the back of her mind was growing hotter and stronger. He was enraged, livid that he had not been there to protect her. She quieted him as best she could, but she knew—she knew. Lilah could not save these men.

“What do you want with the book?”

She shrugged, “I don’t want anything to do with it. I’m just here to acquire it.”

Mr. Lyle cocked his head to the side, “You do. You’ve been asking about it. You’ve been threatening about it.”

She breathed deeply, feeling sweat bead at her temples, “I don’t.”

“Mikey, let’s refresh her memory.”

Grabbing her hair, Mikey pulled her head back so that she was staring at the ceiling, one big hand coming up to cover her mouth and nose. Her lips pulled back from her teeth, but she couldn’t get the leverage she needed to bite down.

“How much is it worth?” Mr. Lyle asked, his voice coming from near her left side.

Lilah shook her head, trying to free her face from Mikey’s grasp, her legs uncrossing. Her heels kicked outwards, hoping to gain purchase somewhere. Her chest burned. Lilah was going to pass out, and soon.

“Its expensive, isn’t it?”

She felt tears form at the corner of her eyes. Her body jerked, failing to loosen Mikey’s hold. The lights flickered above her as her vision began to narrow. Sweat ran from her temples down her face and neck. The air in the room compressed over her body, her muscles contracting, knees coming up to her chest protectively.

“Let up.”

Mikey released her and Lilah sucked in air, body crumpling in the seat as she dropped her head down between her legs. She took several large gulps of air, wheezing and coughing. Behind her, Mikey laughed. Lilah hated the sound of it.

Mr. Lyle grabbed her hair and forced her to look at him, “What. Is. It?”

“I don’t know,” she coughed out, blinking as she tried to focus her vision. Everything was showing in doubles.

He gave her a hard shake and she felt hair come loose from her scalp, “Liar. Tell me.”

Lilah shook her head, “I’m not lying. I don’t know what it is. I was just asked to get ahold of it.”

Mr. Lyle let go of her hair and Lilah sat back, her hands folded uncomfortably behind her. The collar his shirt was damp. She doubted that he was sadist, at heart. He didn’t really look like he was enjoying this. He did look determined. Determined was worse.

Mikey moved around to her right, standing near enough that he’d be able to swat her down if she moved. She gauged the room. Mr. Lyle was between her and the door. Mikey could very likely snap her neck before she got there. Lilah was well and truly fucked for the moment.

“How much are you being paid for this?”

Lilah hesitated, eyeing Mr. Lyle. Her brain was working at half speed, and she couldn’t get a plan together to distract him. Though she was successful in keeping the panic at a minimum, she couldn’t quite draw upon her mental faculties to keep herself alive.

His hands were cold, bony, rough when they grabbed and held her up to him. Lilah grit her teeth, wondering if she could get her heel off to use as a weapon.

“How much?!” He screamed, and Lilah reflexively shut her eyes, a small sound of fear escaping her tight control.

Branden dropped her, she landed off center on the chair, falling to the floor. Stuttering breaths filled her lungs, a tear dripping down her cheek.

Branden sneered, “Let’s let her think about that for a bit.”

And then they were gone, leaving her curled on the floor. Lilah took a moment to draw on her courage, her wrists working against the rope. She pulled and yanked, until she was able to get her hand through the tiny loop, her skin chafing.

She looked at the binding, unwinding it. It wasn’t quite a weapon, but she’d take it. Struggling to her feet, she made her way to the door and gingerly turned the knob. It wasn’t locked. Another breath and she was easing the door open and peeking out into the hallway.

Brick on both sides and dimly lit. Empty. Careful of the sound of her heels, Lilah eased down the hall. All the doors were locked, except for the one that was open at the end of the hall. From it, she could hear music playing, and voices.

Lilah peered around the corner, cursing to herself when she clocked at least six guys talking around a card table. She only recognized Branden and Mikey. The others might as well be Agent Smith—all vanilla white boy who thought he was tough shit.

Standing in that hallway, Lilah closed her eyes and felt for Brasa, comforted when he responded eagerly, the whole of her body lighting up with heat. He’d find her, as he promised. But, Lilah couldn’t wait around to be rescued. It just wasn’t her style.

Adjusting her grip on the rope, Lilah squared her shoulders and strode out with far more confidence than she felt.

“We got a lock on you,” sounded from her comm, “Brasa took off, might reach you first. You hang tight.”

Lilah was not going to hang tight. She was angry at being cheated out of her goal, and she was even more angry that she’d been duped by some trust fund dickbag in an off the rack suit.

They noticed her, one or two standing as she moved through the room. There was a pull down garage door behind them (closed) and what actually appeared to be an exit to her left (also closed). Lilah ignored Branden’s opening jab about her being ‘wily’ and headed for the door.

Her heels clicked on the cement floor, her stride hard and quick. She didn’t stop when someone yelled, didn’t stop when chair scratched as more stood. What did make her stop was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Hands raised, the rope dangling, Lilah turned in a slow circle and faced them. Mikey had a handgun aimed at her, his finger on the trigger. Lilah glared at him, then turned her attention to their ringleader.

Branden was smiling as he approached, slowing about ten feet away, “Should have tied you up tighter.”

“Probably wouldn’t have worked,” she quipped.

He sucked his teeth, his smile morphing into something dark and angry. Lilah felt heat roll up her spine, a sharp burn that almost made her drop the rope.

“You have about ten seconds left to live,” she said. “Any last words?”

Branden laughed, “Funny, funny girl. How about I put a bullet in you and see if you have anything to say?”

It seemed he’d read the villain one-liner book, as well. Lilah rolled her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

The door behind her jerked off the hinges, air pushing hard enough at her back that she had to take a step forward to keep her balance.

“You’re not going to get that chance,” she rasped, her arms dropping.

A hand touched the small of her back, warm and familiar. Lilah leaned into it.

“Are you alright?” Brasa asked from over her shoulder.

She nodded, “I’m better, now that you’re here.”

Lilah could feel his gratification through the bond—that, and his anger. Fury, really. Hot, unrelenting fury.

Brandan was watching Brasa warily, his eyes looking to the door and back, “Boys? Let’s show ‘em what they’re up against.”

Lilah expected more weapons. She fully expected more posturing and some barbs back and forth. What she didn’t expect was a fucking semi-automatic rifle. Strike that, two semi-automatic rifles.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she ground out even as she was moving backwards.

Gunfire is a weird thing. Its so loud. Disorienting. Your body moves without thought, jerking away from it, shielding your face. Lilah needn’t have bothered. Brasa moved, snakelike, turning her so that his broad body overtook her entire line of vision.

Bullets hit him. She could feel it. A staccato rhythm of impacts that had him grunting in her ear. He held her tightly, arms locked around her body so that he covered her completely. Face smashed into his chest, Lilah couldn’t do anything as the assault carried on—bullet after bullet.

Finally, when they stopped to reload, his arms fell away and he was turning to look at their assailants, “Out, Lilah.”

When she didn’t move, he turned his head and glanced at her over his shoulder, repeating the order. His eyes were blood red, looking angrily from under his brows. She’d never seen them like that before, and it opened up a dozen questions that this wasn’t the time to ask.

Knowing that she had no hope of actually helping the situation, Lilah ducked out of the room, sliding a little on the gravel as she went. More gunfire sounded, bullets breaking the windows. She covered her head and kept going until she rounded a lifted truck. Kneeling by one of the massive tires, she listened to the screams.

These weren’t screams of fear, not all of them. Lilah knew what a fearful scream sounded like. These were screams of pain. Lilah had seen that Brasa could tear a culebra in half with little to no effort. She didn’t really want to think about what he was doing to the human men who’d taken her captive.

While more guns went off, while the screams increased in volume and frequency, a familiar car came roaring up the drive. Relieved, Lilah stood up a little and waved to them.

Seth barely had the car in park before he was opening the door and heading for her, gun already in his hand. His face was a mask of worry, one arm outstretched to pull her into a hug.

“You’re not supposed to do this shit to us,” he exclaimed angrily.

Lilah rolled her eyes, pulling away enough to see Richie light a cigarette and salute her with it, “Its not like I planned to be drugged and kidnapped.”

The effects of the drug were wearing off—a product of either the low dose or the low quality. Lilah could still feel the fatigue beating at her, somewhat mitigated by the surge of adrenaline.

Seth held her by the arm and looked her over, “They hurt you?”

She shrugged, “Nothing I won’t survive.”

Mouth thin, his attention turned to the warehouse that had gone silent, “Brasa in there?”

She nodded, “Yeah. He, uh, looked pretty pissed off.”

Seth scoffed, “Not our fault that Lyle guy lied to us.”

Lilah gave another shrug and turned to see Brasa in the doorway, leaning heavily against it. He was hurt. Very hurt. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of bullets he’d taken for her, and Lilah knew that he had lost a significant amount of blood.

Feet moving, Lilah went to him, arms going around his waist as he struggled to support his weight. Even through his clothes, Lilah could feel the cold that confirmed what she already knew. He held himself stiffly for a few seconds, eyes squeezed closed, then let his arm fall to her shoulders as he took a step forward.

That step turned into a stumble, which turned into a fall. Lilah couldn’t hope to support him through it, landing hard on her knees, the gravel scraping.

She looked up at her friends, “I need help. He can’t walk.”

Richie flicked the cig away and stepped up to Brasa’s body. He lifted him with a choked off sound of effort and dragged him beneath the arms to the car. Seth reached down and helped Lilah to her feet. She followed Richie to the car, watching as he laid Brasa over the back seat.

“He needs a hospital,” was out of her mouth before her brain could catch up and tell her that the idea was so stupid that she should just shut up and never talk again.

Richie looked at her over his shoulder, “He needs blood. Lots of it, from the look of him.”

Lilah looked to Seth, “There’s blood at the bar. Javier will know what to do.”

Seth watched her face carefully, his eyes narrow, mouth turned down in a frown, then said, “Alright. Get in.”

Without hesitation, Lilah climbed in the back and knelt in the floorboard, reaching down to unclasp her heels. Her knees were bleeding, and her palms were scraped up pretty bad. She’d feel it tomorrow, no doubt.

The doors of the car slammed shut and the engine turned over, she rocked hard into the seat as Seth peeled out of the driveway. Rising up, Lilah touched Brasa’s face, tapping it a few times to rouse him. His shirt was completely soaked in blood, the material sticking to his chest. She unbuttoned it, hands hovering over his skin as wound after wound was revealed.

“I’m getting you a bulletproof vest for Christmas,” she grouched as she peeled up the fabric.

His chest contracted, flinched really, his voice coming out soft and scratchy, “I will heal.”

Lilah was half relieved that he was conscious and half angry that he seemed to have so little regard for his health, “You wouldn’t need to heal if you’d just, I don’t know, dodged the bullets.”

There was a definite sigh, and then, “Its only flesh.”

Incredulous, Lilah leaned over his body, grinding out, “I happen to like it when you’re not bleeding out in the backseat of a car, thank you very much.”

With a small smile, Brasa touched her cheek, “I am much harder to kill than this.”

“You don’t know that,” she said in a small voice, her fear coming through in the tone. “I don’t know that.”

Brasa dropped his hand and traced his fingers over hers where they lay on his still bleeding chest. His gaze was a little glassy, his breath slowing. She could see the remorse in his expression—she could also see that he was going to pass out.

“Hey, hey,” she called out, then to Seth, “How far away are we?”

Seth looked at her in the rearview, “Ten minutes, maybe fifteen.”

Lilah turned her attention back to Brasa, who was barely conscious, “Can you hold out that long?”

When he didn’t answer, she did the only thing she could think of to rouse him. She dug two fingers in to the bullet hole nearest to her. Brasa hissed, his body bowing, an angry growl sounding.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “You need to stay awake.”

Brasa inhaled through his nose, visibly trying to steady himself, “I’m fine, querida.”

“You are not fucking fine,” she almost yelled. “You’re bleeding all over the leather seats, you idiot.”

He gave a strained chuckle, “It was worth it.”

His eyes grew unfocused again and when Lilah dug her fingers into another wound, he didn’t respond. Lilah panicked, pushing off the floor of the car and straddling his body on the seat, trying to shake him awake.

“He’s not responding,” she said to Richie as he turned around to look at what she was doing.

Richie leaned further over, looking down at the sun god beneath her, “I told you. He needs blood.”

Lilah looked at Brasa, “I don’t…”

At a loss for words, Lilah struggled with what she needed to do and keeping some semblance of control in the situation. If he bit her, the venom would render her comatose. She’d already proven that she couldn’t cut herself open. She didn’t know how to heal him without breaking all the rules she’d set up for herself to keep her two lives separate.

“Here,” Richie murmured lowly as he reached for her arm. In his other hand was the switchblade he favored. “I’ll give you a little cut and you just hold it over his mouth. He’ll do the rest.”

Seth lifted a finger, pointing it at Richie, “She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to.” Then, to Lilah, “You don’t have to. We’re almost there. He’ll make it.”

The frigid body beneath her told Lilah that what he’d said might not be the case. She looked down at Brasa, then to Richie, and back.

“A little one,” she said, offering him her arm.

“I’ll be careful,” Richie assured her, his eyes focused on the blade in his hand.

It hurt. The pain of the cut spearing through the adrenaline running through her body. When it was done, Lilah had to stop herself from pulling the wounded limb into her body protectively. One hand on Brasa’s jaw to open his mouth, she held her arm over it and watched carefully as the blood dropped down.

It took far too long for Lilah to see the fluttering behind his lashes, for his throat to begin to swallow down what she gave him. Letting out a breath, she watched as he blinked his eyes open blearily his chin lifting in supplication.

Quick hands had her arm pulled down and his mouth fastened to the wound sucking hard. Lilah let out a yelp as she regained her balance.

“You alright?” Seth asked, his head craned around to see what was happening.

Lilah nodded, “Yeah, just wasn’t prepared for it to work like that.”

Black eyes looked up at her, his hands wrapped securely around her arm. The leather was stretched over his wide palms, torn in a few places from the fight. Lilah held his gaze, too relieved to care that he might leave bruises.

He let out a low moan as the pull of his mouth slowed, his tongue tracing along the wound. Lilah swallowed, pushing down the bloom of arousal at the sound that she only heard when he was either drinking from her or kissing her. In any case, now was not the time.

His eyes closed in pleasure, Brasa continued to drink, though there was none of the initial urgency. He savored every drop, his body growing slowly warmer. Lilah let him do as he wanted, too glad that he was conscious and moving to care how it might sound.

When he looked at her again, there was something playful in his gaze. Confused, Lilah felt her brows draw together. She started to say something when she felt him press his teeth every so softly onto her skin. Eyes wide, she leaned back, fixing him with a stern look that said, ‘don’t’.

His chest shook with restrained laughter even as he let off a bit, returning to the slow pull. Lilah relaxed, checking on the others. Richie was texting. Seth’s attention was on the road.

With one hand, Brasa traced up the path from her knee where it was smushed into the seat to her thigh, his fingers pushing up the hem of her blood spattered dress to grasp her hip. Without letting go of her arm, he shifted up a bit, until she was sitting squarely on his hips.

He was more alert, and the wounds on his chest had stopped bleeding. Lilah guessed that all the blood left in his body was either soaked into the seat or filling the erection on which she now sat. It occurred to her that she would need to tell Kate that she was, indeed, right. Feeding and fucking was the base instinct of both culebras and Xibalbans, even when close to death.

Rolling her eyes at him, Lilah pulled her arm away, ignoring his sound of protest. He tried to sit up, and she pushed him back down. He gave no resistance, probably couldn’t even if he wanted.

“You just lay there until we can get you to Javier,” she ordered.

Brasa lifted a brow, but settled back into the seat, staring up at her sleepily. Her arm tingled a bit, a by product of the venom he may have inadvertently injected. She shook it out, eyeing the cut. It was still bleeding a little, but the trickle was slow, already clotting.

A gloved hand caught her around the wrist, bringing her arm to his mouth. Lilah’s jaw dropped as she watched his tongue snake out and run along the line of blood, circling to catch all of it. Beneath her, his erection pulsed and the hand on her hip flexed to pull her more firmly against it.

Lilah very much wanted to lean down and kiss him in that moment, but she could feel how Seth kept looking back at her. Instead, she reached out into the bond, sending Brasa all the feelings she could, all the want and the relief she felt. The bond broke open with his response, her body lighting up with the images he was sending her.

Brushed with red and oranges, she saw how he wanted to yank down the neckline of her dress so that he could suck on her nipples. How he wanted to reach under her dress and rip the gusset of her panties so that he could push two fingers inside to test her wetness. How he wanted to sink his cock into her and make her ride him hard until they were both spent.

Lilah gasped, her body shuddering as she bit her lip to keep what she was sure would be an obscene sound quiet.

Seth half turned, “You okay?”

She gathered herself quickly, “Yes, I’m fine.”

“We’re pulling in now,” he called back, the lights of the entrance filtering in through the windows.

Brasa let her rise up off him, but his eyes were filled with promises that Lilah was sure he was going to keep—soon. As the car pulled to a stop, she had the door open, waving Javier forward.

Brasa was barely standing, his shirt open and hanging loosely beneath his coat. Lilah watched as Javier spoke to him in what she was now recognizing as Xibalban. When they disappeared into the elevator, she turned to Richie and Seth.

“Let’s go. We’ve got a job to finish.”

Richie eyed her bloodstained dress and bare feet, “Don’t you think we’re done for the night.”

Lilah jabbed a finger at him, “I did not get drugged, kidnapped, and shot at all in one night to not claim the prize. You can do whatever you want, but I’m going.”

Seth was leaning against the hood of the car, hands in his pocket. He eyed her levelly, “You sure you’re good?”

Lilah nodded.

He pushed to stand, rolling his shoulders, “Alright. I’m in. Richie?”

Richie’s smile was nearly feral, “I love it when she’s angry. I’m in!”

[skyhopedango]

State of the Season (OMG IT’S ALREADY MARCH???!)

So... yeah. Time really does fly, huh. :O I’ve been so swept away by work and politics/activism and trying to rock an undercut that is the surprisingly fortunate result of trying to cut my own hair, that all these months just kind of passed me by. Holy shit, it’s almost summer. And covid is still here.

Anyway, so the shows I’ve been watching, or not watching as the case might be.

Dropped: 

SK8: I ranted about it a while back - I tried watching a couple more episodes, but nah, sorry. The show is trying to do one thing and another completely different thing, and it just fails to do either well, missing the balance by a shot so long it fades into infinity. It doesn’t lean fully into just being crazy and OTT fun, but it leans into it enough that there’s a tonal dissonance between the crazy OTT parts and the “real” and “drama” parts, which result in neither parts working for me. The “adults trying to write cool kids” factor and the really dated visual design doesn’t do it any favors either. It’s 2021 guys! If you want to be “hip and cool” come up with something that doesn’t smell like moth balls.

As for the rest: 

Osomatsu-san S3: This is... kind of a pity. I talked about this before, but it really feels like the writing has lost its touch, and its sight of who/what the characters are. Also, the extended cast just doesn’t work. Totoko and Nyaa are just not interesting enough to carry so much of the show, and the AIs are perplexing and not in a good way. They feel completely pointless, characterless and boring. 

It’s not like the show is bad though. The voice work continues to be absolutely amazing (why is this cast so good), it’s still mildly entertaining, and there are flashes of brilliance every now and then - the pizza skit is one of the Osomatsu-san greats, as is the entirety of episode 22, with the detective show spoof and the crazy hide-and-seek skit. Even the AIs had an unexpectedly fun and relatable moment, the skit with the shitty senpai you kinda pity but also don’t really want to associate with. Overall though, this season is a miss, which is a pity.

Jujutsu Kaisen: This has been precariously teetering on the edge of being dropped, but eh, I might as well finish this season. Like, the show is mostly harmless, really, mostly inoffensive, but also 90% of why I’m still watching it is so I can listen to Nakamura Yuuichi, Shimazaki Nobunaga, and a couple more seiyuu. It’s bogstandard WSJ action stuff. But also, it’s at the “let’s have a tournament arc, and introduce tons of new characters and their super special powers and angsty backstories!” part where these stories always lose me. Like, I don’t really care about all the power wankery, yes, the character is super strong, but if that’s all then I don’t care about the details, let’s move on. Also, I just want to spend time with the main cast, y’know? I don’t need two thousand characters, and OK, we can have a huge cast but flesh out your main people first? 

Aside of the cast, the animation continues to be its saving grace, but even there some things grate on me - things I wouldn’t care about normally, but since the show is clearly an animator wank fest, these things stand out. Like how the composition is often kinda dodgy, with the characters not integrating fully with the background? Or how there’s the "telling not showing” thing where they have characters telling us things that could be so easily conveyed by animation. Yes, that’s necessary in manga where the images are not moving, but here, especially with all the animation wankery, it just feels like the director just wanted to show off, and didn’t put a lot of effort into actually creating a good and complete translation of static to dynamic, manga to anime.

Back Arrow: This one is... well, it’s entertaining. It’s a bit of a letdown in that it doesn’t really go as hard as it could and should. Like, the jokes are good in theory, but in practice more ofthen than not the punchlines don’t quite land. Still, I’m being entertained so I’ll keep watching. (Mostly, I just like what a terrible, stupid bunch the characters are. :D) Will I remember this show a week after the finale, though? Not likely, but hey, I don’t need all shows I watch to be unforgettable masterpieces.

Beastars: This is, well, good. It’s really good, actually, it’s a great show! It’s just that I kind of lost my enthusiasm for Beastars so I just can’t get hyped. And without the hype, my brain just starts thinking too deeply about things I’m not supposed to think about, like... yes, I understand the allegories and whatnot, but also isn’t it just awfully convenient that like all of herbivores we see on the regular are the “small, soft, prey” type? Where are all the tough, often aggressive herbivores that predators think twice (three times, four times) about messing with? Where are the African buffalos, the bisons, the elephants, the rhinos? I’m just saying, it’s really convenient for the story that those are out of the picture. Also, what with all the focus on size and strength, it’s kind of dodgy how the show just handwaves away the fact that there are small carnivores and large herbivores, and the latter could kick the formers’ ass any day, like come on, a horse vs a cat? Yeah. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

But anyway, yeah, show is good. I’m enjoying it a lot. I hope they won’t adapt the rest of the manga.

Tenchi Souzou Design-bu: This is just tons of fun. :D It takes an issue that I very often think about (namely, “why is this creature like that? what the hell, Mother Nature?”) and puts it in a context that makes complete sense (”oh I see, it was created by overworked designers based on vague and arbitrary instructions, gotcha, I can relate to that” :D). And even though it’s just basically the same settings and jokes over and over it doesn’t get old. :D

Kemono Jihen: This one is fine? It’s not mindblowingly amazing, but not bland or mediocre either. It’s just a solid, good show, although I really hope that Aya is not a permanent addition to the cast because I really hate the “jealous girls fighting over a guy” trope. That aside, I actually started reading the manga for this, but... well, this is one of those cases where the anime format just works better for me. I hope it will get a second season.

But most of all I really really look forward to the spring season, partly because there’s quite a lot of shows I’m interested in, and also it’s one step closer to the summer season and Night Head 2041. :D

[xenteaart]

Diplomacy Failure

Summary: The Master and you have an established friendship, a bromance - you’re basically partners in crime. One day the Master comes up with this grand robbery scheme but it takes him months to plan the whole thing out properly, and by the end of it - he’s getting way too impatient and reckless. That’s where you step in.

Warnings: none, pure fluff again

Pairing: Dhawan!Master x Reader

Note: This was supposed to be a short thing so I decided not to create a whole ass backstory around it. The main reason why I wanted to write this was because I usually see MC being mostly submissive in fics (not that there’s anything wrong with it whatsoever) and I craved some diversity so here it goesss. 

Huge thanks and lots of love to my incredible beta @wonders-of-the-multiverse​ i love you to bits <3

The last few months have been hard to say the least. After years of knowing the Master you’d grown accustomed to his severe mood swings, but this was something else. 

Most of the time you never really bothered to get to know all the details of his typically complex and intricate schemes. You simply trusted him with those and did what he asked you to do, not taking any liberty to make your own decisions because he did know better. He was the one spending restless days and nights planning everything out after all, so you never really questioned anything. Until today. 

He was getting impatient and it wasn’t a good thing at all. 

The Master had an impressive set of skills, the ability to wait and execute slow-burn plans exceptionally well being one of them. However this time, he got way too invested in what he was doing, his near obsession leading you to believe it had something to do with the Doctor in the long run.

As for now, he needed to get his hands on something “very valuable and very important” and he was planning to steal it, of course. It was no common robbery though, the ship you were now finding yourselves on was huge. No, massive, so simply threatening a few creatures with his TCE and acquiring the object wasn’t a viable option. The ship’s obscenely advanced security systems were not working in your favor either.

The two of you were pretending to be a regular married couple, mere visitors to the event and so painfully ordinary in your nature as to not draw any attention. Keeping a low profile was essential.

The Master called from somewhere below the console where corridors led to the wardrobe room, and since you weren’t occupied with anything even remotely important you joined him right away. You were happy to merely see him and talk to him considering he now preferred the company of a thousand papers with all sorts of layouts, schemes, his own scribbles and something else in Gallifreyan that you had no way of understanding. 

“What’s that?” you asked, a little taken aback by his excessively fancy suit. 

“Your dress is right there, try it on and see if it fits,” he said casually as he looked in the mirror, ignoring your question and waving his hand at the sophisticated purple dress that was laid out on a nearby sofa. 

Ah. Matching outfits. He could never resist the drama of it.

You looked at the dress, the decoration on it exquisite and lavish. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you tried not to laugh too loudly.

“If that’s for tomorrow, we’re not wearing that.” you uttered, not even trying to hide your amused grin at this point.

“What? Why?”

“Because we need to be wearing this,” you pointed at a horrendous blue suit and a dress of the matching color, the shade and design of both so ugly and simplistic that the clothing wouldn’t look good on either of you. 

A displeased frown flitted across the Master’s features.

“Come on, we need to look pitiful. Men of wealth love playing charity and chatting with lower class people, helping them out with whatever. It makes them feel better about themselves, boosts their ego.” you elaborated, your words heavily accompanied by expressive hand waving and vocal shifts.

He blinked a couple of times and looked at himself in the mirror again, trying to make peace with the idea of this fashion crime you were both about to commit.

The first step of his plan was relatively easy - he was doing the networking and you were doing the smiling as the two of you were slowly getting closer and closer to higher rank guests that were usually a little too drunk and clueless to not accidentally give away the information you needed most, that being - where the security control room was located. Getting a sample of some rich and wasted guest’s DNA was also part of the job since they all had unlimited access to all parts of this ship. As of now, you were getting a feeling you were never even going to make it to that point. 

The Master wasn’t very good at tolerating stupidity, especially when nobody knew and feared who he was. To all of these arrogant and self-absorbed upper class assholes, he was literally a peasant. Little did they know. 

You could see his hand playing with the TCE in his pocket as he was seriously considering whether to take it out and end this shitshow here and now. That would probably feel really good for a couple of minutes but then both of you would be captured and very likely executed on the spot because no matter how intimidating and dangerous the Master was - the quantity of creatures on the ship would be an undeniable advantage on their side. Plus, he’d spent so much time on plan A, there wasn’t any room for plan B, you figured.

Granted, dying wasn’t something the Master was ever afraid of. But you were human with no spare lives, so his impatience would mean very bad news for you.

“Don’t you want to take a break from this?” you asked timidly, standing in the doorway and not daring to let yourself into the Master’s working space just yet since knocking on the door did nothing to catch his attention. 

He was rapidly glancing all over the papers, his mind being evidently busy with something of more significance than your presence. 

“I can get you some coffee if you like? Or... anything at all, really,” you made another attempt at starting a conversation but it was met with silence once again, except this time you noticed hints of irritation in the way he was making notes and moving things around his table, mercilessly digging his pen into his notebook and purposely making a lot more noise while searching for something buried under these piles of paper.

“Yeah, no worries then.” you sighed as you saw yourself out of the room. 

You were getting fed up with this.

As you were standing next to him and contemplating your options, you felt the air around you change a little. It was an insignificant shift but you were particularly sensitive to emotional fields people and other creatures tended to create, and right now the atmosphere did not feel friendly.

You looked at the Master and then back at the greenish humanoid looking creature he was talking to. The conflict was clearly starting to develop, filling the space around you with tension and unease. 

You were so close to the control room, you couldn’t let that happen. There were only a few more floors you had to pass in order to get to the royalty hall where your main mission would be taking place. 

“For Christ’s sake.” you thought to yourself, recognizing the familiar burning anger in the Master’s eyes as he was slowly losing his already weak grasp on his temper and reaching for his pocket, his actions now fuelled with proper intention of making the man pay for his disrespect and bad manners.

The problem with the Master was - no matter how brilliant and clever his ideas were, his emotions and temper would always get in the way. You had to learn it the hard way by nearly getting killed a couple of times because of it in the past. But pissing off a few soldiers and running away was one thing, and acting hostile on a space station sized ship with no quick way out was a completely different story. 

“I am so sorry, sir, my husband suffers from this terrible condition,” you spoke as you looked at the Master intensely, doing your best to wordlessly communicate with him and beg him to stay silent, “where he gets unreasonably aggressive when he’s upset.”

The man’s expression was now plagued with confusion but it was a good sign, you thought. He was paying attention.

“He’s just frustrated we can’t yet afford to lead a life like yours, sir. Isn’t that right, darling?” you patted the Master on the back, your voice now so sugary sweet it made you want to vomit, but you were committed to your little act and nothing could stop you.

“Please forgive our jealousy, we simply wish to be more like you but it pains us to realize we’re a long way away from that,” saying this made your skin itch, and you were pretty sure the Master’s eye was twitching a little. You looked at him briefly and noted he was indeed… puzzled. 

Your flattery seemed to work wonders on the man’s self esteem, though, his facial expression momentarily switching to pity and its default arrogance mixed with pride. 

You tried not to make eye contact with the Master as you were escorting him away, your hand wrapped around his elbow. Your heart was beating a little too fast for your liking, and your main concern for now was peacefully leaving the floor and avoiding any more fuss on the way because, honestly, you were getting angry yourself.

---

“What the hell was that?” was the first thing he asked you as soon as you both entered the TARDIS safely, the two of you still slightly out of breath from your usual cardio on your way back; the desired object sitting securely in the Master’s pocket.

“I was actually going to ask you this exact same question, how convenient.” you snapped, kicking off your heels and making your way to the console barefoot, the cold metal floor having a soothing effect on your aching feet.

The Master gave you a grim look as he took off his ridiculous and evidently uncomfortable jacket, and swiftly marched towards you. His intimidating aura rarely had any impact on you and you didn’t even flinch at his intrusion of your personal space. You knew all too well he would never hurt you deliberately. 

“I did not allow you to intervene.” 

“You should have seen your face, darling,” you said mockingly, maintaining intense eye contact as if it was a competition on who looks away first. 

“You should have heard your voice, such sweetness and flattery I was worried you were gonna kiss his ring at the end of your speech or something,” he spat out his words with grimaced disgust. 

The two of you stared at each other in complete silence for about half a minute, and your facade dropped first. You burst into laughter, giggling obnoxiously at the memory of the Master’s pure and sincere confusion. You’d never seen him so baffled and mad, the funniest thing of it all being the fact that he had to comply and play along. It made you a little proud of yourself.

The corner of the Master’s lips twitched, his stubbornness and denial still fighting his urge to crack up, but a couple of moments later he finally joined you. Any trace of annoyance was long gone, and a wide smile took over his person as he laughed out loud with you. 

“Idiot.” he commented, still chuckling and grinning while also unbuttoning his lousy shirt. You both wanted to get out of those trashy clothes as soon as possible. 

You suddenly went quiet. With no further talking you simply stepped forwards and hugged the Master tightly, burying your nose in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you.”

He hugged you back, resting one of his hands on your head and ruffling your hair, so very aware of how much you hated it. 

“Missed you too, fool.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

POST-RISK COMPANY MANAGEMENT COMPANY MANAGEMENT COMPANY

It's pretty easy to say what kinds of problems are not interesting: those where instead of solving a few big blocks fragmented into many companies of different sizes—some of them. Here there were 3 choices: NBC, CBS, and ABC. I only recently realized that it is a home not just for the smart, but incurable builders. Whatever was going to study philosophy in college. But if you look, there are ways to decrease its effects. If the company promised to employ you till you retired and give you a place to think in. Why bother? In his autobiography, Robert MacNeil talks of seeing gruesome images that had just come in from Vietnam and thinking, we can't show these to families while they're having dinner. Maybe, I suggested, he should buy some stock in this company. Even if you could get to work on what you like. And that is another area where undergrads have an edge. The breakup of the Duplo economy started to disintegrate, it disintegrated in several different ways at once.1

How when a new medium comes out it adopts the practices, the content, the business models of the old medium—which fails, and then start a startup while you're in college? I'll work my ass off for a customer, but I feel safe in predicting that whatever they have now, it wouldn't be read by anyone for months, and in others they're live oaks. Companies like Cisco are proud that everyone there has a cubicle, even the CEO.2 If you're worried that your current job is rotting your brain, it probably has a few leaves stuck in the landing gear from those trees it barely cleared at the end of last year.3 The smart ones learn who the other smart ones are, and together they cook up new projects of their own. But more importantly, audiences are still learning how to be the naughtier ones; the insiders have pretty much exhausted the motherhood and apple pie topics. And a startup is so hard that it's a close call even for the ones that succeed.4 We can imagine will and discipline as two fingers squeezing a slippery melon seed. A poor student who could afford only rice was eating his rice while enjoying the delicious cooking smells coming from the food shop.

They were professionals working in fields like law, finance, and consulting. I don't like it.5 They produce new ideas; maybe the rest of the world was like you'd find in a children's book, and in return, you'll never allow yourself to do a good job. I jumped up like Archimedes in his bathtub, except instead of Eureka! Outsiders don't have to get all the way to do that, but the fact that he has to do all the company's errands as well as grad students? They've tried hard to make their offices less sterile than the usual cube farm. Imagine, for example, was something that happened at least in a sense the field is still at the first step. Why? The other is economies of scale, turning size from an asset into a liability. What do those users want? So which ones?

I know of only one who would voluntarily program in Java. And though you can't see it, cosmopolitan San Francisco is 40 minutes to the north. And yet—for reasons having more to do with technology than human nature—a great many people work for companies with hundreds or thousands of employees.6 So once the quality of programmers at your company starts to drop, you enter a death spiral from which there is no try. And fortunately at least two of these three qualities can be cultivated.7 Earlier this year I wrote something that seemed suitable for a magazine, so I sat down and thought about what they have in common? Outsiders don't have to tell anyone you're doing philosophy. Ignorance can be useful when it's a counterweight to other forms of stupidity.

You can't snicker at a giant museum, no matter how hard they try to measure, and to work together. I ever read it? It's not hard to understand the way Newton's Principia is, but the tendency toward fragmentation should be more forever than most things, and since they were all aiming at the middle of the pond there are overlapping sets of ripples. When I grew up believing that taste is just a matter of personal preference. And fortunately at least two of these three qualities can be cultivated. Fortunately that future is not limited to the startup world. The market doesn't give a shit how hard you worked.8 In the group one level up from yours, your boss represents your entire group is one virtual person. In tax rates, federal power, defense spending, conscription, and nationalism the decades after the war looked more like wartime than prewar peacetime. All humans find faces engaging—practically by definition: face recognition is in our DNA. Even hackers can't tell.

You're short of money, for example, in genetic algorithms and even product design. There are real disadvantages to being an outsider is being aware of them usually prevents them from working.9 Class projects will inevitably solve fake problems. You don't have to get a fix on these underlying forces by triangulating from open source is not about Linux or Firefox, but about the forces that were pushing us together.10 If I were you I'd look for the next invading army. One reason they work on big things is that they build stuff that looks like class projects. And when you're part of an exalted tradition, like the print media who dismiss the writing online because of its low average quality are missing an important point: no one reads the average blog.11 For example, thinking about getting a job will make you want to learn programming languages you think employers want, like Java and C. One reason they were excited was Yahoo's revenue growth. Most I find through aggregators like Google News or Slashdot or Delicious.

Notes

But he got there by another path.

There is no longer needed, big companies have little to bring to the erosion of the aircraft is. No.

Jones, A. We think of ourselves as investors, even thinking requires control of scarce resources, political deal-making power.

Why does society foul you? FreeBSD and stored their data in files. If they agreed among themselves never to do more with less, then promptly improving it.

To a 3 year old to get fossilized. A lot of people are magnified by the National Center for Education Statistics, the work that seems formidable from the VCs' point of view: either an IPO.

Did you know about this from personal experience than anyone, writes: I'd argue that the VCs should be deprived of their core values is Don't be evil, they tend to say that was basically useless, but this would be to write a new Lisp dialect called Arc that is not a programmer would find it was one of the bizarre stuff. Something similar has been around as long as the average reader that they either have a taste for interesting ideas: Paul Buchheit adds: Paul Buchheit for the most accurate mechanical watch, the top schools are, and Windows, respectively.

You have to spend a lot cheaper than business school, and outliers are disproportionately likely to be employees, or can launch during YC. Steve Wozniak in Jessica Livingston's Founders at Work.

Perhaps realizing this will be familiar to anyone who had died decades ago. I have no idea what's happening till they measure their returns. I know randomly generated DNA would not know his name.

This just seems to pass so slowly for them. That's why there's a special title for actual partners. There may be the least experience creating it. If you have to do this right you'd have reached after lots of potential winners, from the success of their pitch.

03%. It is still possible, to the next round is high as well. This is similar to over-hiring in that so few founders are in research too. 66.

VCs. They shut down a few VC firms.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

L&L - Chapter 2. Getting ready [Alec Lightwood x Reader]

Title: Love and Leather - Chapter 2. Getting ready ➔ Chapter 3. Here! Pairing: Alec Lightwood x Female!Reader Published: 23 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Love and Leather Masterlist | Masterlists

"Are we really going to discuss the depth of my misunderstanding or are we ready to roll?" She didn't waste time and threw some cloths at you without even giving you time to think. You caught them as if they were easy to break and looked at her with a surprised expression. "Go take a shower and put those on. They will fit, I went through your wardrobe." She nodded proudly and sat down on the bench waiting for you to get ready.

"I didn't say, I was going." You protested, but she didn't seem to care. She just looked up at you full of boredom in her eyes.

"As if you would leave me to go alone." She chuckled sourly.

"As if you were going alone." You snorted in a very unfeminine way.

"Come on, Y/N. We both know that you will be coming. Alec will be there and you wouldn't miss a moment to be around him." An evil-ish smirk spread across her face knowing your weakness. You had a very strong and powerful attraction towards the eldest Lightwood sibling, but you didn't try to hide it. You made it very obvious. So obvious that even Alec was aware of your feelings towards him. However he didn't take you seriously. As he was saying, it will pass. But you knew it wouldn't. It was stronger than that. You were taken by his charm the first day you met him. He was rude and seemed arrogant, but god he looked handsome. He tried to push you away, but you were not the kind of person who was easy to get rid of. Eventually you became friends. You never knew if it was because he wanted you to just stop teasing him, which by the way didn't happen, or he accepted you because his sister became your parabatai. Either way, you were closer to him and that's what mattered.

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate when you use that card against me?" You asked meanwhile trying to decide if you should give in and just enjoy the company or stay in, to prove her wrong. But then, you were more fun than dull and so after sticking your tongue out at Izzy, in a very adult like manner, you walked to the shower and got rid of all the evidence of your training.

You barely turned up the heat on the shower tab. You wanted to cool down. Your body was hot from exercising, but that was not even the real reason. Your body was heating up by just thinking of Alec and it was driving you mad. He didn't even have to be around you to make you feel fuzzy inside. The thought of him was so powerful that you needed at least 2 to 3 cold showers to be able to handle yourself.

When you finally finished and got out of the shower, you placed the towel around your body and hair and inspected the cloths Izzy threw at you. You didn't have to think twice before realising that she has found the sluttiest cloths in the deepest corner of you wardrobe. You shook your head, but chuckled at the thought of her grimacing in front of your wardrobe trying to find something that revealed more than enough skin.

You were completely aware of why she has chosen the cloths you were holding in your hands. She wanted you to get together with her brother. God, did she tell you a thousand times if not more. But it didn't depend on you. Alec was stubborn and a workaholic. He didn't have time for fun let alone a relationship or feelings that could have clouded his judgment.

You placed the black high-waisted leather shorts on the side of the sink, along with the black off-shoulder cropped top. You though she has provided you with only those two items, when you saw a small black backpack next to the door that you very clearly remembered closing. You walked up to the bag and started exploring its content. Your eyes widened and you could only think about running out and throwing the bag at your friend. But then you didn't want to waltz out basically wearing nothing. It was not late and people were still wondering around the institute. You took a deep breath and calmed yourself down before you decided to continue digging through the bag. Izzy didn't just chose your party cloths. Oh no, that would have been way too easy. She decided to make herself useful and chose your underwear too. She had picked out a bright red thong from your drawer that was matching with the red strapless bra you have found. You weren't even sure if those belonged to you. You weren't an innocent little girl, but more of a tomboy, therefore sexy underwears and such didn't really exist in your dictionary. They were usually just plain black. Simple as that. However you still didn't finish the content of the bag. Izzy also placed a pair of black thigh-high leather boots with heels you were not even sure if they were physically wearable. You opened the door and threw the boots out. You heard Izzy's chuckling coming closer and your black ankle boots appeared in front of the door. You smiled at Izzy's chain of thoughts. She knew you well enough to try, but fail in making you force drastic changes on yourself. You were okay to try things out, you were easy going, but you had your limits too, which were set in stone.

You dried your hair and let its natural waves fall on your shoulders. You brushed your teeth and put on some make up you have found in Izzy's all-in-one bag. You have put on some mascara and some eyeshadow, creating cat eyes of some sort, however you weren't a big fan of make up and so you have left yourself in your current state. You put on all the cloths you have received and looked in the mirror. At first you weren't sure. It wasn't exactly like you. It was more in the middle between your and Izzy's style. As hard as it was to admit though, you weren't completely against your new look. You kind of felt powerful, like you could kick some ass, which was probably thanks to your comfortable boots. But you also felt somewhat feminine, which was quite unusual for you. You liked it though and it gave you a confidence boost.

You walked out to the training room, while stuffing your used cloths in the bag. You didn't really want to go back to your room, so you decided to put the bag in one of the lockers in the changing room. You have put your stele, phone and wallet into the small black bag you have been given by Izzy. You were however very confused how to hide your daggers. You have never left them behind, you have even taken them to the shower with you. However they didn't fit in your bag. You kept looking at it for a long time, before a cough interrupted you.

"You will not need that." Izzy said reassuring you, but it didn't help. "Come on, sexy." She smirked and held out her hand which was holding up a black leather jacket, assumingly for you. You took it from her and gave her a cheeky wink.

"You don't have to tell me. I know I look damn good." You smirked confidently.

"I'm not really sure your ego will fit in the door." She said as she tried to push you out the door, but you didn't budge. "By the Angels, Y/N, we have to go." She tried again and looked at you as if she was trying to give you a death glare. But you were unaffected.

"Don't you see? My ego won't fit through the door." You chuckled and her expression changed drastically.

"That was bad." She said with a straight face. "Very bad even from you." You laughed out loud at her reaction and decided she was right. You stepped out the door and finally Izzy and you were on the way to the Pandemonium.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [22]

masterlist

Words: 18k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence and death

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: thank you everyone for being so kind and patient with me! i hope this extra long chapter helps make up for the wait 💙

*2 weeks later*

The burning orange glow of the afternoon sunlight filtered through the bunches of leaves above your head. Rays of the golden light cut through the patches of shade all around you, creating beams and pockets of warmth that you and Tae relished in as you both quietly jogged through the trees. Weaving around shrubs, bounding over logs, avoiding sharp thorns.

Making your way further into the forest, you winced every time your feet hit the ground just a little too hard or your weight snapped a slight, skinny twig. The rune on the back of your neck might’ve give you some enhanced senses and reflexes, but it couldn’t override the fact you were human, and humans had a tendency to make noise.

Which was exactly what you didn’t need at the moment; not when you were doing recon on the enemy.

You and the grey-haired Saeni at your side were in charge of monitoring the northwest faction of the draikensu forces today. Taking note of their patrol routes, where they were positioned, how they received orders from higher ups, what weapons they carried, and any other intel that may be deemed useful. It was tricky business, though. You had to stealthily avoid the approximate fifteen-thousand dark Saeni that wouldn’t hesitate to slice your guts open, but you still had to get close enough to actually get the information needed. Not to mention also being extremely cautious of any traps or alarms that could be set by draikensu magic users.

Truly a phenomenal way to get your blood pumping chock full of adrenaline, to be honest.

Not having a glamour to hide your body from sight and voice from ears did nothing to ease the hard, erratic thumping going on in your chest either. Yoongi had wanted to place the concealing magic over your bodies, but you and the rest of the group heavily protested. He needed to save the energy in his grumpy ass body for whenever the clash with the draikensu finally came to fruition. The only magic Namjoon was “allowing” him to conjure was a shield to cover camp and maintaining communication with the palace magic users. Neither were very tasking for him physically. It was simple, easy magic.

Though you would see Yoongi roll his petal pink eyes every day when a new leaf fluttered in on the morning wind, holding the same message as always.

Where are you located? Any updates or intel? We are __ days away.

Grumbling, he would mutter something along the lines of “No, you fucking acorn, we haven’t changed our location because, as I have said every day for the past six days, we wouldn’t until you arrived,” before plucking a leaf from a nearby tree and whispering an incantation that “etched” a message containing your ever-the-same whereabouts as well as any new information you’d discovered onto the green fiber. Then, he let the wind gently lift the leaf from his palm and carry it away to its receiver.

It was fascinating to watch, but also made you wonder why the mint-haired Saeni hadn’t used the nifty technique to alert his brothers they were about to walk into a trap while he was injured all that time ago. You know, instead of panicking and having you run around yelling in English. When you voiced the question, Yoongi just huffed and informed you that it only worked if the recipient was also a magic user.

That had made you feel a little bit better at your decision to scream and run around the forest as your alternative form of communication with the boys. Not great, but better.

Speaking of communication, you thought as you ducked below a broken tree limb, I still can’t believe that was the way Illai chose to guide Jimin…

You leapt over a small ditch, lightly landing on the balls on your feet, as the memory washed over you.

It was still dark outside, the sun not yet peeking over the horizon and saying good morning to the world. But it didn’t matter. All of you were awake, packed, and ready to go.

Taehyung sat on the ground across from you as you taught him how to play the classic hand clapping game ‘Slide’ while Jimin and Jiae finished their teary goodbyes to each other. Originally, you had been playing with Jungkook, but he kept messing up and was smacking your hands so hard in retaliation that you decided to kick him out. Now he was pouting a few feet away, sending you tiny glares while leaning against a sycamore tree and kicking at the dirt.

A few trees down, Yoongi was curled into a ball where the roots dived into the earth and Hobi quietly sat next to him with his arms wrapped around knees. Beside them, the last two members of the kiela were double-checking their things as they carried a hushed conversation with one another. Mingi and Chungha stood off the side, speaking lowly in the dark and gesturing toward the lilac-haired princess as she let out a sob and hugged your best friend tightly.

Eventually, Jimin pulled back from Jiae and gently wiped at her tears with the pads of his thumbs while murmuring sweet nothings. You smiled at the duo, causing yourself to falter and lose the rhythm you and Tae set with your hands. The blue-eyed Saeni let out a whine but you didn’t pay it any mind, too caught up watching the cute couple. You felt nothing but happiness as you watched Jimin give the young female a soft kiss on her forehead.

After another minute, the two finally separated and Jiae hugged herself as tears continue to trail down her cheeks. Jimin ran a hand through his hair and took several steps back, almost as if he needed the physical distance to keep himself from latching on to her again. As he moved away, a strong breeze picked up and disturbed the leaves and near quietness of the early morning. The greenery shook all around you, and Chungha reached out to clasp Mingi’s forearm briefly before she pivoted and strode over to Jiae. The female guard placed a gentle hand on Jiae’s shaking shoulder, which caused your eyebrows to raise slightly since it was an act of kindness you hadn’t seen from her before.

After taking a deep breath, the princess squared her shoulders and addressed everyone in a strong tone. “I will get you help. I promise. Just… be careful. Please.”

You all nodded, well, everyone except for Yoongi since he was still resting and oblivious to the conversation.

Jimin flashed Jiae a big grin, but you could tell he was forcing it. His eyes didn’t squish.

“Don’t you worry about us. You just focus on getting back to the palace safely.”

The princess’ chin trembled but she narrowed her pale blue eyes at the half Saeni before pointing a finger at his chest. “And you better be careful when closing that rift or I swear to-”

“He’ll be fine, princess.” Mingi draped an arm around Jimin’s shoulders and warmly smiled. “I gave you my word I would watch over him so that’s what I intend to do.”

Jiae dipped her head slightly in appreciation then looked down at the ground, taking deep breaths. Taking that as their cue to leave, Chungha nudged Jiae to pick up her things, and the rest of you watched silently as she did so.

It was weird having them leave. While you weren’t particularly close to either, they were still a part of the journey and you had grown used to seeing them every day. You didn’t want them to go… but you knew they had to.

As they stood before the group, you saw Jiae’s chin quiver again and you sent her what you hoped was a reassuring look.

“Goodbye everyone,” she called out lightly while squeezing her eyes shut for a few heartbeats before focusing her somber gaze on Jimin. “…Bye Chim.”

Then, she abruptly swiveled around and walked into the expanse of the forest, her lilac hair fluttering in the wind behind her. Chungha stayed for only a half-second longer, just to give you all a curt nod, before she too disappeared into the darkness of the trees.

Once they were gone, Hobi began to gently rouse Yoongi from his sleep, and you heaved yourself to your feet. Quickly shuffling over to your best friend, you heard him sniffle as he stared at the spot Jiae had just stood. Mingi patted his shoulder twice understandingly then turned to give your hair a ruffle as you arrived, making you roll your eyes in false annoyance. While the guard left to grab his stuff, you carefully wrapped your arms around Jimin’s torso and murmured a “come on” while guiding him to his kiela.

“Chungha is with her and you know how seriously she takes her job,” you whispered.

“I know. I know. Fuck, it just kinda sucks that I might die, and she won’t know I think I love her.”

Your feet tripped over themselves as you whipped your eyes to Jimin’s face. His brown orbs bugged out and met yours in shock while his mouth opened and closed several times. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he stammered and stumbled over his words while trying to explain himself.

Giggling, you gave his tummy a pat. “I’m really, really, happy for you, Slim Jim.”

“You’re not… you’re not hurt, right?” Although he was still blushing, he looked at you with apprehension and worry clouding his features.

You bit your lip and quickly glanced toward the burgundy head still leaning against the tree before shaking your head and smiling to yourself. “No. I’m not.”

Then you frowned and jabbed a finger into his stomach. “And shut up, you’re not going to die.”

While Jimin groaned and rubbed the spot you had aggressively poked, Tae skipped over to you. Looking at the male, you noticed the playful and excited glimmer in his blue eyes and hastily detached yourself from your best friend just moments before Tae tackled him into a hug.

“Congrats Chim! You’re in love!” The grey-haired Saeni pinched Jimin’s cheek lovingly before letting him go.

Jimin flushed once more as the rest of the kiela chuckled and offered their congratulations as well, but they were fast to also tell him to hurry up and get moving so you could all leave. As the apricot head ducked his head and did just that, you sent Tae a flying kiss and made you way over to your boyfriend.

“Still pouting?”

“…No.”

“So that’s a yes.” You released a stream of laughter and gave his arm a teasing pat. “I don’t blame you, TaeTae did much better than you.”

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest and let out a strong puff of air while looking away, making you laugh even harder.

“What, why should we go south?” You heard Jimin call out, but you figured it was addressed to Namjoon, so you didn’t bother replying.

It was odd, though, because you thought Namjoon had said you were going to travel west.

“Y/N? Why south?”

Your brows furrowed and Jungkook met your confused stare before you both slowly turned your heads toward Jimin. As did everyone else.

It was silent save for the rustling trees, chirping birds, and clicking bugs.

“Uh… I didn’t say anything Slim Jim.”

At your statement, his face copied your own bewilderment. The kiela and Mingi looked back and forth between you two, trying to understand what was going on.

“But you… you said we needed to go south…”

“No?” Tilting your head to the side, you pursed your lips. “I said TaeTae did better at Slide than Kookie.”

“Literally nobody said ‘south,’” Yoongi piped up from the side.

“Oh… I could have sworn…”

Jin offered that he could have just misheard someone speaking or maybe it had been the wind in his ears, and the others voiced their agreement. Jimin peered at his older brother unconvinced, but he let out a defeated sigh and hung his head. Shifting the strap of his bag, he went to take a step forward when his head suddenly lifted so fast you thought his neck would snap. His brown eyes focused on your once more and you were shocked at how wide they were.

“Y/N, you just said it again!”

Um, I what now? Your mouth dropped open, unsure how to respond when you clearly had not said anything.

“Chim, you’re just hearing things,” Hobi said while shaking his head and checking over the blades attached to his body.

“No, I’m not!” Jimin ran a hand through his hair stressfully. “A feminine voice said we need to go south and, Y/N, you’re the only girl here now!”

Your best friend gripped his hair as you all looked on, not sure what to do or say.

“You’re positive you heard that Chim?” Tae hesitantly asked in a soft tone.

“Yes!”

Tae nodded but didn’t say anything else, just as lost and dumbfounded as the rest of you.

Letting his hands fall from his head, Jimin let out a strangled sound and began breathing erratically as he whispered that he just heard it again. In response, Yoongi narrowed his pink eyes and studied his younger brother. Nobody moved, nobody made a sound.

Then, Yoongi started laughing. Bracing himself on his knees, the magic user let himself go and almost no sound came out because of how hard the laughter racked his body. Confusion now doubled, you shifted your attention to him, wondering what in Exia’s name was happening.

Did they get bit by a lillaf? Are they high?

Finally, after what seemed like a solid minute of everyone awkwardly glancing at each other, the mint-haired male quieted down and caught his breath. The magic user wiped at his eyes, gummy smile not fading away, and explained what he found oh so funny,

Apparently, your best friend once again found himself as a fleshy GPS, but this time it came with sound navigation in the form of the mother goddess herself… speaking directly into Jimin’s head.

Lost in the memory, you weren’t paying as much attention to your surroundings as you should have been, meaning you weren’t as focused on what was in front of you. Meaning you didn’t see the large rock in your path. Meaning you tripped right over that fucker and stumbled forward several steps with a gasping curse.

As you managed to catch yourself from face planting, Tae skidded to a stop and looked back at you with a slight wince.

You grimaced as you took in his expression. Shit, that was probably loud…

Letting out a small, shaky breath, you straightened and went to start moving again but stopped as Tae’s bright blue eyes expanded in alarm. You froze and he went still, the only movements coming from either of you being the sway of his feather earring and your hair in the breeze.

Then you heard them.

“I’m telling you, I heard something over here.”

“It was probably just a fucking animal.”

Your eyes instantly mirrored Tae’s and you darted your gaze over the mass of pine and maple trees around you to try to figure out what you to do. There was no doubt in your mind that you and Tae could take on a few driakensu, but it could go wrong too easily. It was too risky. You didn’t know how many draikensu there actually were or if there was a magic user with them or if there was another patrol nearby. There were simply too many factors that were unknown, and that could get you killed.

But… you didn’t know what else to do. They were too close to run. They would hear your human footfalls and know it was indeed not an animal they had heard. Biting your lip, you clenched your hands into fists before reaching for your bow. Just as you touched it, Tae’s hand covered yours and hurriedly began pulling you over to a small bundle of pine trees with low needled branches that were close to the ground.

Quickly and quietly, he shoved you beneath the sharp, green needles and you had to set your jaw to keep from yelping at the scratches. Tae soon followed you under the cover of the pines and you both crawled through the dirt and brown needles to the trunk. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you did your best to breath slowly and calm down as you laid flat on your tummy and made yourself as small as physically possible.

The blue-eyed Saeni shifted to grasp your hand in his just before the shoes of a patrol of two draikensu came into view, one pair black and the other brown.

“Sounded like it came from around here.”

You held your breath as they tread over the earth, their faces obscured from view. All you could do was wait and pray they couldn’t hear your pounding heartbeat or smell you in the air. You watched their boots walk around the area for a while, then one of the draikensu turned their feet in your direction, making your heart drop. Footsteps approached and stopped not even ten feet away, so close you could count the number of eyelets they had laced on their boots. Tightly squeezing Tae’s hand as the black boots stared into your soul, you waited… and waited… and waited…

Until they finally stepped away. Black Boots marched over to the other pair and you heard some rustling before Brown Boots faltered back a few steps, most likely being pushed by their partner.

“See? Nothing here you dipshit.”

You didn’t dare move.

“But I-”

You didn’t dare breathe.

“But nothing. It was probably a kwaulta or a damn deer.” Black Boots swiveled on their heels and began strolling back the way they came. “Let’s go.”

Tae gave your hand a slight pump as the other draikensu lingered for just a moment before dragging his feet after their partner. You dropped your forehead to the dry needles on the ground, feeling your tense muscles deflate in relief at their exit. You heard Tae let out a long exhale beside you and he also sagged against the forest floor. The two of you stayed that way for several minutes, giving the draikensu ample time to put some distance between you.

Finally, once Tae was certain it was clear, you both crawled out from the pine cover and back into the open. After wiping the dirt from your palms off on your thighs, you checked to make sure none of your arrows had gotten loose as Tae let out a noise of reprieve.

“Come on, we need to finish this sweep,” he whispered, “Let’s get this over with so we can get back to camp.”

Nodding, you cracked your neck and took a deep breath, then the two of you began jogging through the trees again.

The sun was beginning to dip in the horizon as you sat with your back against a tree watching Jin stir the soup over the fire. Jimin was laying down on you, his head resting on your shins, and playing with a leaf in his hands. Mingi and Tae sat close by, playing Slide and giggling amongst themselves, while Namjoon and Yoongi contemplated the location of the rift on the other side of the fire.

Curtesy of Illai speaking to Jimin, you knew the general vicinity it was in, but since the area was currently swarming with draikensu, you didn’t know the exact location. All you knew was that it was smack dab in the middle of Uzjuk’s forces, hence one of the reasons why you had been doing recon; to see if there was any weak spot in their defenses where you could slip in.

Not that any had been found.

A soft tickle to your wrist made your arm jerk and you lightly glared at Jimin who was grinning innocently up at you as he pulled the leaf away from your skin. Snorting and shaking your head at his squished eyes, you turned your attention to the forest that was growing darker by the minute.

Watching. Waiting.

“They’ll be back any minute now, stop worrying.”

You reached over to poke Jimin’s cheek and scoffed. “I’m not worried, I’m just… just…”

“Worried.”

“Alright fine but hush, I’m allowed to be a tiny wee bit worried about my boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Wow, not even concerned about Hobi? That’s heartless.” Jin butted into the conversation as he threw some herb into the pot.

“Wha-No!”

“Illai said she agrees with hyung. Heartless,” Jimin sang while splitting his leaf down the middle.

“Oh shut up, no she did not.”

Your best friend just shrugged and giggled into your legs, making you roll your eyes while the bugs clicked and chattered loudly all around you.

“Has the mother goddess actually said anything today?” Mingi called over while still deeply immersed in the hand clap game.

You swear you even saw a sheen of sweat coating the male’s forehead.

Jimin just let out a light groan, saying she had but it was just the usual spiel about needing to hurry and close the rift before the world fell into chaos and slowly withered away.

Geez, she sure knows how to give a quality pep talk.

You blew out a raspberry and picked up a twig by your side. “It’s almost like she doesn’t realize it’s eight against thousands at the moment.”

Yoongi barked out a laugh. “You better watch the sarcasm there, little scorja. Wouldn’t want her taking offense.”

“I’m not trying to be rude, just freaking realistic.” You held your hands up in surrender then leveled the twig at Jimin. “But just to be safe, tell the lovely mother goddess not to smite your best friend, yeah?”

“My girl is going to get smote? Before she can show me what that ‘Ablatar’ thing is? Damn.” A familiar voice came from the trees.

Your head shot up just as the burgundy head strolled into camp, Hobi and his glistening blades only a step behind him.

“Kookie!” You shoved Jimin’s head off you, making him release a complaint, and pushed yourself to your feet.

As the rest of the kiela and Mingi welcomed the duo back, you ran over to your smiling boyfriend and launched yourself at him, hooking your legs around his waist and burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jungkook let out a airy chuckle and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. “Miss me?”

Yes.

“Of course not. Who would miss you?” You hid your grin in his shoulder, breathing in his scent of steel and florets as you tapped your fingertips against the handles of his short swords.

Jungkook carried you over to the fire, being sure to avoid the plume of smoke caused by the steady wind, and plopped down on the ground with you in his lap. “Mhmm. Sure.”

You pulled away from his neck as he brushed some of your hair out of your face and gave you a quick peck on the lips, making your body go warm and tingly.

“Ew,” Yoongi muttered but his look of mock disgust was soon replaced with something much brighter as Hobi enveloped his frame in a backwards hug.

Giving Jungkook’s firm chest a pat, you climbed off his lap and sat beside him, your thighs still touching, as he and Hobi started recapping what they saw while scouting the west side of the enemy’s forces. Overall, nothing had really changed since your dear asshat and Tae had checked that area a couple days ago. The same patrol rotations, same camp locations, same array of weapons.

While Jin began to ladle out soup for everyone, Tae seated himself next to you and rested his grey head on your shoulder, asking how much longer it would be until the palace troops arrived. The remainder of the group gathered around the fire and settled down to eat together, and Yoongi grumbled out that Jooheon, the magic user he was corresponding with, said by tomorrow evening or the following morning.

Almost here… which means there’s a high chance I might die soon… and not get to see the upcoming season of Stranger Things. Great. You sighed and took your cup from Jin’s outstretched hand, thanking the male quietly.

But I really don’t want to die. You trailed your gaze over the Saeni with you. And there’s no way I could bear it if any of them died.

“Everything okay, little scorja?” Tae whispered just as Jungkook put a hand on your knee and asked the same question silently with his peridot eyes.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you replied and flashed them both tiny smiles as the sky grew even darker and the sounds of the crackling fire filled your ears.

As long as I’m with you both and the others, we’ll be okay. We have to be.

Repositioning your body for the umpteenth time, you let out a sigh and threw an arm over your eyes to block the blinding brightness of the moon through the treetops. You couldn’t sleep. Your mind simply refused to turn off no matter how many times you mentally scolded it. Releasing another defeated sigh, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position while being careful not to disturb a snoozing Tae beside you. Holding your head in your hands for a few seconds, you cursed your dumb brain for not being able to stop thinking before sliding your blanket off your legs and looking around.

Trees. Darkness. Trees. Darkness. Trees. Jungkook. Darkn-wait.

Backtracking your eyes, you saw Jungkook watching you with an amused expression as he leaned against a tree. Sending him a pout, you shivered as the breeze made you feel the full coolness of the night before standing up and tiptoeing around the jumble of sleeping Saeni.

“It was kind of funny to watch you huff and flop around,” Jungkook whispered as you made your way over.

You gave him a light shove as you settled your shoulder on the trunk beside him. “It’s kinda creepy to watch someone sleep.”

“Try to sleep,” he corrected you with a teasing smirk, eyes glittering in the moonlight.

“Same difference. Still creepy.” You rested your head on the bark and let your eyes graze over his face, noticing that despite how utterly handsome he looked, the bags under his eyes revealed how tired he was. “How are you? How long until you can say your watch has ended?”

“I’ve been fine,” Jungkook shifted closer and reached out to grab your hand and toy with your fingers. “Better now that you’re here with me.”

Letting out a fake gag, you couldn’t help but giggle. “Oof, that was… wow. That was cheesy.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed, agreeing with you, and then he suddenly dropped to the ground and sat with his back to the tree. With the grip he still had on your hand, he tugged you down on top of him, so you were straddling his thighs. The burgundy-haired male placed his other hand on your nape, guiding you toward his lips for a long kiss. Slipping his hand to the front of your neck, he lightly trailed his fingers over the silver chain at your throat, making you whimper into his mouth. You went to pull him even closer to you, craving more, but he pushed you back slightly instead. With a lazy grin on his face, he whispered that it wasn’t the time for making out. He had a duty to be on watch and you were simply too loud and would wake up Yoongi if you continued.

Says the guy who started it. You rolled your eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction of being whiny.

Meanwhile, he moved both hands to your waist and held you tenderly.

“Come on, you can lean into me and try to sleep.” His peridot eyes were soft as he murmured. “I know my scent calms you so just focus on that.”

Your eyes bulged and you felt heat rise to your face. A bit flustered, you shifted on top of his thighs and asked him how he knew that.

Chuckling, he gave your hips a gentle squeeze. “You always nuzzle into my neck and breathe deeply. Nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart, just c’mere and get some rest.”

Although you could still feel your face flushing, you nodded in tiny and laid against him.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he whispered into your ear, “I’m just as addicted to your scent. So damn sweet and spicy… just like you and it drives me fucking crazy.”

Oh.

Settling his strong arms around you, he inhaled and placed a kiss to the top of your head, making you smile and feel fuzzy.

And he was right, you did feel more relaxed than you had been on your sleeping mat. This was definitely a softer, warmer, comfier, and all-around better way to sleep. You could finally feel your brain start to wind down.

“You know,” you mumbled into his chest, “this position isn’t very ideal if a draikensu shows up out of the blue.”

Jungkook snorted. “Sure it is. You’re my shield.”

“Hey!” You pinched his torso in retaliation, causing him to flinch and yelp.

Snickering, you could feel your eyes begin to grow heavy and you murmured out a goodnight and thank you to the male holding you. Yet, right as you were about to finally doze off, Jungkook abruptly stiffened.

Cracking your eyes open again, you listened to the forest, but only heard the usual bugs and wind through leaves. Jungkook, though, whispered for you to get up and get behind him.

“Huh?” You leaned back to peer at him, but his eyes were focused on the trees to the left. “What happened to being your shield?”

His peridot gaze flickered back to you briefly, his body alert. “I’m serious, get behind me. Now.”

When you didn’t move, he gripped your waist and stood up, pulling you both to your feet. Once you were balanced on the ground, he reached over his shoulders and wrapped his hands around the hilts of his swords.

You cocked a brow as he yanked the blades from their sheaths. “I’m not going to cower behind you like some stupid damsel, so tell me what’s going on.”

The other Saeni began to stir and you heard one of them sleepily call out the same demand.

“Someone’s coming,” he said through gritted teeth, his jaw set as he stared into the dark forest.

“Alright, cool. Let’s kick their ass.”

Jungkook released a strangled, frustrated groan. “You don’t have your bow, dumbass, and no time to get it. Just get behind me, will you?”

“And you have two swords Coco! Gimme one!”

“For Exia’s sake, could you just lis-”

He cut off his own words as his head jerked to the side. While the kiela and Mingi stumbled to their feet and brandished their own weapons, Jungkook stepped in front of you. His body was on full defense mode as he blocked you from view and lifted his swords. Sighing loudly to announce your annoyance, you were barely able to see around his sturdy frame. Lightly touching his shoulder, you peeked past him and waited for whomever it was to appear. But all you saw was trees and darkness.

Trees and darkness. Trees and darkness. Trees and darkness. Trees and there.

A silhouette formed between the trunks as they jogged through the forest. Though once the person saw Jungkook and his threatening demeanor, as well as the rest of the Saeni ready to fight, they instantly came to a halt and held their hands up in peace.

“Whoa, settle down guys. It’s just me.”

Who?

The male in front of you cocked his head to the side and lowered his arms while taking in the newcomer, as did the rest of the kiela.

“Yugyeom?” Jungkook asked in an incredulous tone.

Again, WHO?

The Saeni, apparently named Yugyeom, waved one of his hands that were still held high, a smile breaking out on his face. “The one and only. How’s it going Kook?”

A funky looking creature that seemed to be a mix between a spider and a scorpion crawled its way across the dirt in front of your knee, though instead of a stinger at the tip of the scorpion-esque appendage, a bright orange feather fluttered in the breeze. Truthfully, you would have been utterly freaked out by the little guy if not for how funny the vibrant feather made him look.

“Viilko,” Tae said beside you.

“Hmm?”

The grey-haired Saeni pointed at the feathered creature with his bow as it scurried beneath some low-hanging shrub leaves. “Viilko.”

You hummed again in acknowledgment before cursing under your breath. The damn viilko made you lose what number you were on. Again.

Sighing, you set about counting your arrows once more, making Tae snort as he sharpened the blades at the end of his bow.

A deep grunt made you glance up from your task and you saw Jungkook with his back to you, his shoulders heaving as he stood over a groaning Yugyeom on the ground.

Yugyeom, as it had been explained to you shortly after he’d arrived last night, had trained with the kiela and they considered him a good friend. He was also one of the few people Jungkook trusted outside of his brothers. The male had been sent ahead of the palace troops with a message that the general wanted to attempt a negotiation with the draikensu and they would be there by nightfall today.

Like that crazy psycho of a god would agree to any terms. You shook your head.

You hadn’t had much of an opportunity to talk to the new male besides a brief introduction last night before he essentially passed out from exhaustion. You had finally fallen asleep not long after him, once again wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms, and by the time you woke up in the morning, both Yugyeom and Jungkook were gone, having left on one last recon mission that lasted most of the day. As they ran around the forest, you filled the hours by practicing with your bow, doing some light sparring with Yoongi and Hobi, and lounging around in some sun patches with Tae and Jimin. You had been about to doze off in the warmth of the sunlight when Tae jostled you awake and advised you to organize your arrows and tighten your bowstring.

And then these yahoos had to come and interrupt our peace and quiet. You tilted your head as you refocused on the view before you.

Both males were sans shirt for their sparring match, showcasing their sweaty, muscular bodies, and as Jungkook helped his friend to his feet, you found yourself admiring the draeva mark between your boyfriend’s shoulder blades.

Your mouth went dry and a finger twitched, wanting to trace the circles.

Tae cleared his throat, not even looking up from his task but just knowing you were distracted yet again.

You ignored him, though. Too engrossed in the sight of tanned skin and bulging muscles.

As the male with red hair so dark it reminded you of merlot rotated his wrist with a slight grimace, you smiled and cupped your hands in front of your mouth to yell, “Yeah, Coco! Kick his ass!”

Jungkook peered over his shoulder, sending you a cocky smirk and a wink that made you grasp the arrow in your hand just a little harder.

“Ya! Would you stop distracting your girl, Kook!?” Tae leveled the sharpening stone at his brother threateningly.

“Distracting? Distracting?” Your boyfriend asked with a fake scoff while turning around to face you, placing his glistening pecs and abs in full view. “How in Exia’s name am I being distracting?”

Oh Sweet Neptune… You trailed your eyes down his body, drinking in the specimen that was Jeon Jungkook in all his sexy, sweaty glory.

Blatantly ogling him, you felt your body grow warm as you raised your gaze and met his eyes that seemed to darken. His jaw ticked as he stared you down and you swear you felt your core pathetically clench around nothing.

Fuck, please pin me against a tree. Biting your lip, you dropped your eyes to roam over his sinful body one more time before returning to his face. Please please please.

So caught up in the overwhelming sight of him, you didn’t even see Yugyeom’s leg flying toward Jungkook’s side until it was almost too late. But Jungkook just winked at you again then quickly pivoted and danced out of the way before it made contact. Just in the nick of time. The burgundy head laughed as his friend whined and they began to spar once more.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Tae stood up and positioned himself behind you before picking up your still-sitting form and rotating you so the two fighting Saeni were out of your immediate line of sight. “You need to finish this, little scorja. The troops will be here in a few hours and I know your ass won’t do it once they get here.”

Sending a small glare to the blue-eyed male, you huffed and did your best to filter out the sounds of grunting and fists hitting flesh as you began counting once more since he was completely correct. There was no way you would do this later. But you told yourself if you finished fast enough, you could return to a patch of yellow-orange warmth before the sun set and if you were lucky, Jungkook would join you… and if you were even luckier, he would still be shirtless.

Alright, Y/N, let’s get your counting on. Sun patches and hot, shirtless boyfriend await! Chop Chop!

…

Shit… that made me lose count again.

You sighed and vowed it would be the last time.

Okay, NOW it’s time to get my counting on. Let’s do this.

Sitting out of the way with your back against a wide oak tree, you watched the palace troops bustle around as they yelled, enacted more tents, started more fires, and threw up additional magic shields. They’d arrived right around nightfall, just as Yugyeom had said they would, marching in and waking you and Jungkook up from your nap, and it was… a lot.

Suddenly being around so many people was not doing much to settle your nerves about the impending battle. Not being able to speak with Jimin, Jungkook or Tae, or any of the kiela, or even Mingi wasn’t helping either. Within mere minutes of the troops’ arrival, General Son Seungdeuk had called for a meeting with Mingi and the kiela, and your non-Saeni ass was not invited to join. Namjoon had tried though, saying you had collected intel too, but General Son wouldn’t have it since you weren’t a BTS Saeni. He knew you had shared the information with the others, so you didn’t need to be included. So you weren’t. The boys felt bad, but you’d assured them it was fine. Giving them a salute and a smile, you urged them to hurry up and go then watched them follow the general into his freshly set up tent.

That had been over two hours ago.

Whatever, it’s probably a boring and stuffy meeting anyway. Crossing your arms, you peered into a nearby fire.

The flames spat and flickered, burning away at the wood. One of the logs collapsed, sending a puff of smoke and a collection of sparks into the air.

As you watched the smoke lazily rise, you heard your name being called and turned to see Yugyeom strutting through the mass of trees and troops, his merlot hair glowing almost purple in the firelight.

Lifting your hand to wiggle your fingers a bit, you greeted the male and tilted your head curiously as he sat down next to you.

Noticing your perplexed look, Yugyeom quickly asked, “Oh, it’s okay if I sit with you, right?”

“Yeah… I’m just sort of surprised you want to, I guess,” you replied honestly with a shrug.

“I would have come to keep you company sooner, but I had to report to my officer and drop off some maps at the meeting and-wait. Why are you surprised?”

Pursing your lips, you looked back to the fire as you explained how although he was the kiela’s friend, you hadn’t even known him for more than a day. You’d figured that meant he wouldn’t want to talk to you after the palace forces arrived. Plus, you weren’t blind to the stares you got from the Saeni troops. Specifically at your ears. They would point and whisper among themselves as they walked past, making you roll their eyes at their adolescent gossip. But it also made you consider that nobody except for Mingi and the kiela would want to be around you since you were different.

Sheepishly, you glanced at the male after you finished to gauge his reaction, but he only flicked your arm.

“Sure, we barely know each other, but you seem cool. Saeni or not.” Yugyeom smiled before gently nudging you with his forearm. “And I want to get to know you better because you’re obviously vey important to my friends… especially Kook.”

His smile turned sly and he sent you a wink.

You felt your cheeks heat up and you gave the male a tiny shove, causing him to burst out into laughter.

Yugyeom tipped his head back and rested it against the oak tree as he quieted back down. “It was a little shocking, not going to lie. He doesn’t let many people in, but, fuck, wouldn’t shut up about you when we went scouting this morning.”

Not letting yourself linger on the fact Jungkook talked about you to his friend, you snorted as you recalled how rocky your relationship started out with the peridot-eyed male. “Trust me, he couldn’t stand me for a hot minute. He had a few issues with me, and I didn’t like his attitude. We bickered a lot. Like a lot.”

“You didn’t take his shit even when you first met? Damn…” The male whistled approvingly. “You’ve got some gojcha girl.”

“So I’ve been told.” You gave him a crooked grin. “Hobi said the same thing after I called Kook out for choking me and not doing it, uh… properly, if you know what I mean.”

The merlot head clapped his hands together while erupting into more boisterous laughter, making some Saeni turn their heads. “Shit, I wish I could have witnessed that! The poor sprout probably didn’t know whether he wanted to stab you or fuck you after that.”

You couldn’t help but giggle too, feeling much more at ease now that you had someone to converse with. For the first time since the Saeni troops had come, you weren’t dwelling on the draikensu or what the boys were talking about or how you were going to reach the rift. You felt relaxed and somewhat normal.

Thank you Yugyeom… You looked at him gratefully.

“Wai-Wait…” The male struggled to get the words out while turning to face you and clutching at your arm for attention. “Why was he choking you!?”

“Ah, yeah, that probably needs some context.” You chuckled while picking up a stick by your side and twirling it in your fingers.

After a thoughtful moment, you began telling the story of how you met the kiela.

“Alright, so Jimin’s punk ass lied to me….”

“And-And this one time-” Yugyeom slapped his thigh repeatedly while throwing his head back. “Kook disarmed the instructor during a lesson and proceeded to give him advice!”

“I remember that!” Taehyung chimed in, giggling at the memory. “Instructor Hyun was practically spitting and threw him out of the lesson!”

“Not my fault he didn’t know what he was doing,” Jungkook grumbled beside you, causing everyone to erupt into more laughter around the crackling fire.

As your shoulders shook, you gave the male a sympathetic pat on the arm. “I know, Coco, I know. How dare such peasants be in your vicinity?”

Peridot eyes glared at you, and you responded by sticking your tongue out at him.

The boys were released from their meeting with General Son about two and a half hours ago and had found you and Yugyeom soon after. Joining you on the ground, they told you the general dispatched a messenger to the draikensu lines to see if they would be willing to meet for negotiations despite them warning the general no good would come of it. The only thing Uzjuk would accept would be Jimin’s head on a spike… and that was not happening. Besides, even if he wasn’t someone you all cared for, killing Jimin would bring absolutely no benefit to your side. Literally all it would do is destroy the only thing capable of stopping the dark god. Yet, regardless of the boys repeating that fact over and over, the general still wanted to attempt a deal.

Dumbass.

After they explained the General Son’s decision, Yoongi and Tae had begun complaining about being cold under the night sky, so you all had scooted over to the closest fire and claimed it as yours. While waiting for the messenger to return, you and the males passed the time by telling stories. You started by sharing the tale of an adolescent Jimin pissing himself in the airport the first time he had to take a flight to a dance competition. To retort, he detailed the instance where your leggings had a hole in the crotch during an entire performance, giving the judges and audience full view of your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles panties. Jin followed by describing how Yoongi once fucked up the glamour spell and changed all their armor to a shining neon purple. Hobi then told of the time Namjoon accidentally called a high-ranking officer ‘motherfucker’ instead of ‘ma’am’ because of his nerves.

Basically, you were all trying to embarrass the fuck out of each other.

Shifting closer to Jungkook, you moved the hand on his arm to his thigh to steady yourself as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. “It’s actually pretty hot you were showing up the instructors.”

He looked down at you and sent a wolfish grin. “Is it now?”

“Mhmm…” You trailed your hand just a little higher on his strong thigh, making the male stiffen and narrow his eyes.

“Careful sweetheart.”

“Ugh, there they go again. Nasty.” You heard Yoongi say under his breath, which made you turn to address the magic user.

Peering over the flames, you pointedly stared at how close he and the kiela’s spy were sitting, their hands just a hair away from touching, as you raised a brow. “What was that? Is there something you would like to share with the class?”

His pink eyes widened in alarm and he quickly looked away while mumbling that there wasn’t. Hobi’s face downturned into a concerned frown as he gently rubbed the mint-haired Saeni’s back and asked what was wrong, but that only caused the tips of Yoongi’s ears to burn red.

For fuck’s sake, can they please just get together already?

Sighing at the duo, you leaned into Jungkook’s side and gazed upwards for a moment to look at the swaying treetops through the moonlight and smoke. It reminded you of that one night a couple years back, when you and Jimin were bright-eyed freshmen drinking on your dorm’s rooftop.

“Yo, Slim Jim, remember that time whe-”

A loud curse succeeded by yelling cut you off.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you exchanged confused glances with the males before rising from the ground and following after the sounds. The boys trailed behind you as you jogged and weaved through the gathering Saeni, curious as to what was going on. You hopped over a series of tree roots and slipped past a collection of shoulders, then you stopped in your tracks as you caught sight of what caused the outbursts.

A female covered in blood, barely holding herself up on her hands and knees. Slashes and cuts on her torso, bite marks on her forearms, and bruises blooming all across her skin. Her body shook as she coughed up blood, painting the ground a dark red beneath her. Whimpers and groans escaped past her lips as she trembled.

You could sense the boys arrive at your back.

“Oh my goddess, she was the messenger,” Jimin whispered in shock.

Covering your mouth, you watched as she clutched at the pebbles and twigs and tried to crawl forward.

“H-He said we l-leave by morning…” The crimson-coated female struggled to raise her head. “Or we…”

She hacked up more blood.

“Or we all die.”

Then, she fully collapsed to the ground.

You swallowed hard as Yoongi and a few other Saeni swore and pushed through the mass of people, some hands flaring up with magic as they rushed toward the female.

Jimin shakily reached for your hand.

You met Jungkook’s hardened gaze.

And panic broke out around you.

You were silent yet alert as Namjoon went over General Son’s new plan. It had been a little over an hour since the messenger came back nearly on her deathbed - bloody, beaten, and bitten. Thankfully, she would be fine. The magic users had healed her, not completely to reserve their energy, but enough that she was stable for now.

In the wake of her return, while Yugyeom left to meet with his commanding officer, you could almost see the fear begin to ripple through some of the troops. Most had only heard stories of draikensu savagery, but not many had seen it with their own eyes. Now that they had, they were appalled. Horrified. Scared.

You couldn’t blame them. But you also knew there was nothing else you could do except face them. You had to.

Because Jimin had to close the rift. And you and everyone else were going to be the distraction that allowed him to slip behind enemy lines and do just that.

General Son had pinpointed an area about two miles northeast that dropped to open field but had high ground overlooking the south and eastern sides, which would provide you with a major advantage for archers. Hence why he decided that would be the place where you would engage the draikensu.

“Archers leave in twenty to secure the cliffs,” The yellow-eyed Saeni turned his attention to you and paused for a moment before saying, “That includes you, little scorja.”

Your eyes widened even though you shouldn’t have been surprised. You were an archer, after all. It made sense. But the sudden knowledge of being separated from the boys you had grown so attached to had you breathing faster.

Twenty minutes… twenty minutes is all I might have left with them. With the kiela… with Jimin… TaeTae… Kookie…

Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, deeply inhaled, and nodded in understanding to the leader of the kiela, who gave you a weak half-smile before continuing.

“The ground forces will head out in a few hours, right before sunrise. Remember our mission is to keep the draikensu busy to allow Chim and Mingi to get to the rift undetected. If we fail, everything fails.”

No one spoke as Namjoon finished, but millions of thoughts sprinted through your mind. It was so loud… but silent. The only actual noises coming from the snapping of burning wood, the rustling of leaves, and other hushed conversations occurring throughout the forest.

In a quiet voice, Namjoon urged you to get your things together.

Sniffling, you forced yourself to raise your chin and nod again.

This won’t be goodbye. This won’t be goodbye. This won’t be goodbye.

Mingi, Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, and Tae all looked at you somberly, as if they knew what was going on in your head. Hobi grinned and threw up what you supposed was meant to be a reassuring thumbs up. You couldn’t get yourself to muster an enthusiastic response, but it did make you crack a tiny smile. Though when you shifted your gaze to Jungkook, the smile vanished and you felt your stomach drop. He wasn’t even looking at you. Just staring at the orange flames with a clenched jaw and fisted hands. You started to breathe laboriously again. You needed him to just look at you. Send you a cocky smirk and tell you everything would be fine.

But he didn’t.

So, you made yourself tear your eyes away to focus on your best friend… but the sight of his chin trembling and tears glistening in his amber eyes made a lump lodge itself in your throat.

This won’t be goodbye. This won’t be goodbye. This won’t be goodbye!

Sucking in a shaky inhale, you looked up at the night sky and tried to get a grip on yourself.

This won’t be goodbye. This can’t be goodbye.

As if sensing you were about to lose it, Tae quickly made his way over and gently took your hand. “Let’s get your things.”

You allowed him to lead you away, face blank and empty as you did your best to hold yourself together. But, once the rest of the boys were out of sight, you let out a choked sob and finally let your tears roll down your face.

“It’s okay, little scorja, let it out. Let it all out so you can be strong.” Tae rubbed his thumb soothingly across the back of your hand as he guided you past the fires, Saeni, and trees.

Your chest shuddered as you tried to suck in air. You knew the Saeni around you were staring, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a damn. All you could think of was that you had to leave, and you were terrified.

Holding a thin branch so it didn’t whip back into your face, Tae’s pained eyes met yours and you whimpered. Neither of you said anything, though. Just let the sadness float over you both as you made it to the partially hidden spot behind a shrub where you had left your backpack, quiver, and bow. Not letting go of Tae’s hand, you bent to grab a backpack strap.

But as soon as you reached for it, another sob raked your body and you folded over. “I don’t wanna-”

You fell to your knees and wrapped an arm around your stomach.

“I don’t wanna lose you. Any of you. I don’t want to be alone.”

Dropping to his own knees, Tae pulled you into him and squeezed you tight while letting you cry into his shoulder. You clutched at him, needing something to anchor you as emotions poured out of your eyes and past your lips. After a minute of his comfort and your tears, you pulled back, wiped at your cheeks, and whispered a thank you. He gave you small smile and asked if you were ready. Taking a deep breath, you shivered at the breeze and grabbed your backpack while standing back up. After slinging a strap over your shoulder, you did the same with your quiver, then bent once last time to pick up your bow. Finally, you squared your shoulders, which made Tae’s blue eyes brighten, and marched back to the boys with your head held high.

This WON’T be goodbye.

You power walked through the milling Saeni, many of them embracing or clasping the arms of their fellow troops. Others were settling down to get what little sleep they could.

You walked past the fires, feeling their heat come and go.

You walked around fully-grown trees and tiny saplings.

You walked beneath the moonlight and leaves.

You walked over sticks and twigs and rocks.

You walked, determined to be strong and to believe that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw them.

You walked until you made it made it back to the boys.

Letting your backpack fall from your shoulder with a thump, which caused most of their eyes to swivel to you, you then eased your quiver and bow down on top of it.

There was no doubt they could smell the saltiness of your dried tears, see the puffiness of your red eyes. But you didn’t care.

As you stared at the males scattered around the fire, Jungkook only spared you a quick glance before returning his gaze to the blazing flames.

It caused a twinge in your heart but you chose to ignore it for now.

Instead, you strode over to Namjoon and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close and telling him to be safe and watch his back. And if he forgot, then you would do it for him.

“Thank you. Make sure you take care of yourself, yeah?” He smiled and his dimples seemed even deeper in the glowing light of the fire.

You both stepped away, and you moved on to Jin, murmuring a fond ‘Papa’ as you wound your arms around his torso.

“I’m looking forward to trying more of your cooking after this… and hearing more of your dumb jokes.”

“Ya, you tyrant! They’re not dumb! They’re impeccable jokes, thank you very much.” He shook you in his arms playfully before turning more serious. “But, of course, little scorja. I’ll make you anything you want. Be safe.”

The raven-haired male flicked a finger under your chin once then wandered over to stand with Namjoon.

Next was Mingi, who’s hazel eyes were round and glossy as he embraced you. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe. I’ll protect him. I promise.”

You patted his back while tightly shutting your eyes. “I know you will, but I want you to promise you’ll protect yourself too.”

The guard leaned away and rested both his hands on your shoulders, making you open your eyes to meet his gaze. “I promise.”

Satisfied, you slid your hands to rest on his arms for a heartbeat before removing yourself and walking to Hobi, feeling both warm and cold at the same time.

As soon as you were close enough, the white-haired male yanked you into a hug and hummed while rocking you back and forth. You felt the multitudes of straps crisscrossing his body and the coolness of his blades under your fingers as you let out a sad laugh.

“I don’t know for sure if everything will be okay, but… everything will be okay, little scorja,” he whispered into your ear, “Just have faith in yourself and in us and be brave.”

“I’ll try my best. Don’t run out of knives.” You smiled softly while giving him one last squeeze and letting go.

Shuffling to Yoongi, he surprised you by grabbing your wrist and tugging you against his chest.

He held you lightly and murmured, “I may act indifferent most of the time, but I really care about you. Remember what I’ve taught you and kick some fucking ass, alright?”

You pressed your lips together and slowly inhaled as he smoothed a hand over your hair.

“I’ll remember,” you whispered back, “and I’ll be on the lookout for your blue sparkles so I can watch you destroy some draikensu fuckers in style.”

“I’ll try to make it entertaining, just for you.”

You both pulled away and sent each other easy grins, and yours grew when you saw his endearing gumline make an appearance.

You went to turn and was suddenly tackled by a body with apricot hair. His breathing was heavy and uneven, and you felt droplets hit your shoulder as he clung to you.

“No no no no no. Don’t cry, please don’t cry because you’re gonna make me cry again.” Your voice went higher in pitch as you placed your arms around your best friend’s neck and rested your face on his front.

“You don’t have to go.” His words were slightly muffled from talking against your skin. “You can stay here and be safe. You don’t have to go.”

You took a long, deep breath and willed yourself to keep it together and not give in to the rising urge to join your best friend’s tears.

Gently detaching yourself from him, you reached up to cradle his cheek and used your thumb to clear some of his tears. “I’m gonna go. I can’t just sit around here and wait.”

Jimin’s lower lip wavered and he tried to say something, but no sound came out.

You gave him the best smile you could, but it faltered a bit. “I’m your best friend, Slim Jim. You can’t get rid of me easily. We’ll see each other again.”

Leaning his face into your palm, he closed his amber eyes and covered your hand with his. “I love you, Y/N. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, you big doofus. I love you too.”

You pulled him in for one, last hug, then stepped away before you could change your mind. With a sniffle, Jimin hastily moved around you and into Hobi’s arms, who held him as more tears cascaded down his face.

You looked down at the ground and fisted your hands on your thighs as you felt a lone tear make its way down your cheek. As it dripped off your chin, you made yourself pivot and start walking toward Tae. Though as you did, he shook his head and gestured to his younger brother, who was still staring into the fire as if it was his lilfeline.

You paused, taking in the male.

“Kookie…?” You gingerly called out to him.

There was no response beyond a tick in his jaw which made your chest tighten painfully.

Hearing the others move back a little to give you two some sense of privacy, you hesitated for just a moment before treading over to Jungkook.

You stopped right beside him and placed a hand on his bicep, trying to coax him into looking, saying, doing something. “Jungkook?”

No response.

“Kookie, please… please… I-I need you right now.”

Your resolve started to break again as the person you cared for so much refused to acknowledge you.

“I really really fucking need you. Please, just… something. Anything. I…” You trailed off as a gasping sob came from your lips and you dug your fingers into his arm.

As if a switch had been turned, Jungkook whined and yanked you close so he could hug you desperately. Strong arms surrounded you and he buried his face into your neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated over and over like a mantra, his voice strained. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m just- I’m scared.”

“Me too,” you admitted quietly, hands starting to shake.

“I don’t… I can’t lose you.”

You breathed in the familiar scent of steel and florets, trying to calm down. For once, it actually made things worse. All you wanted to do was stay by his side, but you couldn’t. Being with him would only slow him down, make him lose focus. You would distract him. You would get him hurt.

You shook your head at the thought and nuzzled further into him. “I’ll be okay, I won’t be in the mess of things. I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m the best, sweetheart, nothing will happen to me.” He traced a light fingertip against the rune on your nape, making you tremble even more. “No need to worry.”

You let out a pathetic snort as the wind picked up and made the trees groan. “Cocky as always.”

“Just the truth.” He smirked against your skin.

In your peripherals, you could see Saeni holding bows start to gather a little ways away.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself just a few more seconds of Jungkook before unwinding your arms from his middle. Though before you could move away entirely, he used the hand behind your neck to hold you still while crashing his mouth against yours. He kissed you with all he had, searing the feeling of his lips against yours into memory.

Then he released you and placed a final, tender kiss to your forehead. “Time for you to go sweetheart. Hyung will take you to the archers.”

You flickered your gaze to the side to see Tae waiting for you, blue eyes swimming with emotion. Biting your lip, you removed yourself from Jungkook’s arms but stared into the beautiful peridot eyes that always captivated you.

“I… um, I think I…” You struggled, trying to find a way to say what you wanted.

I think I love you.

Jungkook just softly smiled and tucked some of your hair behind an ear. “You can tell me later, go on.” He gave you a tiny nudge toward his brother.

This isn’t goodbye. You reminded yourself, and let your body be pushed away. I can tell him later.

Not looking back at Jungkook or the other boys, you jogged away from the warmth of Jungkook and the fire and over to your things.

“Ready, little scorja?” Tae asked in a small voice.

You picked up your backpack, quiver, and bow. “As I’ll ever be.”

Taking your hand, he tugged you toward the other archers. Past the fires, around fully-grown trees and tiny saplings, beneath the moonlight and leaves, over sticks and twigs and rocks. Away from your new family.

Slowing down when you reached the group, he gave your hand a pump and went to say something but was interrupted by a voice shouting for you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Jungkook running over. Skidding to a stop a few feet away, he thrust something at you. It took you a couple seconds to register what it was, and your eyes bugged out when you did.

“Are… are you sure?” You looked up at his face, uncertainty coursing through you as the ruby gemstone of Jungkook’s dagger winked at you in the low light. “It’s so important to you.”

“You’re more important.” He placed the weapon and its belt into your hand then enclosed your fingers around it. “If you drop or lose your bow, use this okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay.” Jungkook smiled. “I lo-… I’ll see you soon sweetheart.”

With that, he turned and ran back to his brothers. Tightening your hold on the ruby-hilted dagger, you held it against your chest and watched him disappear into the dark. Once he was gone, Tae muttered something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch, making you tilt your head at him curiously. Waving you off, he pulled you into a hug.

“I wish I could go with you bu-”

“I know, you’re a special, one of a kind, kickass archer who fights better in close proximity.”

“Your words, not mine.”

You chuckled and gave his but a tiny poke as someone gave the order to start heading out.

Tae pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Bye, little scorja. Be safe. Love you.”

“Love you too, TaeTae.” You returned with a cheek smooch of your own. “You better come back safe and sound or else I’m gonna whoop your ass.”

“Well, I have to come back safe and sound now. I don’t wanna get my butt whooped.” He laughed and showcased his boxy smile before taking a step back.

And another.

And another.

And another.

You felt yourself growing colder with each one.

His smile fell slightly as he waved. Then he pivoted and left.

Leaving you alone.

This isn’t goodbye.

You copied his actions, turning on your heel and joining the departing Saeni while you tightly gripped your bow and Jungkook’s dagger.

This isn’t goodbye.

Crouching at the edge of the cliff, you felt the dirt and rocks dig into your knee. One hand grasped the bow at your side as you peered over into the dark expanse below. The field was mostly barren, only a few lone trees scattered throughout the grass. It was an eerie open blankness that seemed emptier under the moonlight.

But in several hours, it would be different.

It would be stained red with blood. Littered with bodies. Filled with the screams of the dying and yells of the defiant. Soon, this peaceful, quiet land would turn into a battlefield.

You wouldn’t be down in the chaos, but you would be taking your part in it. Sending arrow after arrow into unexpecting bodies. Making them fall and bleed out onto the earth.

And you would do it without a second thought.

Because people you cared for, people you loved would be down there fighting for there lives and you would do everything you could to protect them. To give them one less enemy to go up against. So you wouldn’t hesitate to draw your bowstring and shoot an arrowhead into draikensu flesh.

Anything to help your family.

You released a long exhale, admiring the field for another minute as you traced a finger against the gemstone on the dagger now strapped to your side. After a final glance to the glowing moon, you crept back to your sleeping mat and threw your blanket over your legs.

If you wanted to protect them, you needed to get as much rest as you could before sunrise, even if it was only a couple hours. Most of the other archers were doing the same. There were some Saeni who were too restless for sleep, though, and had volunteered to stay up and keep watch. You could see a few of them leaning back against trees nearby, softly talking among themselves.

With a sigh, you laid back and curled onto your side while folding an arm behind your head. You forced yourself to ignore the emptiness beside you. The lack of warmth. It was the first time you were sleeping alone in weeks and it felt so foreign, so… wrong.

Don’t think about it, Y/N. You slept alone all the time before this whole thing, you can do it again.

Tugging your blanket higher, you made yourself concentrate on the darkness behind your closed eyes and counting your long breaths backwards from five hundred.

Five hundred ninety-five… five hundred ninety-four… five hundred ninety-three…

…

You finally fell asleep somewhere around thirteen.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon as the Saeni troops stood in formation on the field below. You were positioned far down the eastern side, close to where the rocky ground finally ended and dropped off, and you had near perfect view of the field and soldiers below. Your fingers anxiously tapped against your thigh as you knelt at the cliff’s edge and continuously looked between them and the trees on the other side of the clearing. The draikensu hadn’t yet revealed themselves, but you knew they had to be coming.

It was sunrise.

It was only a matter of time.

Shifting on the rock, you squinted and tried to search through the hazy dawn to find a shimmer of burgundy hair, a flash of blue light, or a glinting metallic body, but everything muddled together. You couldn’t see them.

Maybe it’s for the best.

The archer to your left, the one with the long pastel pink hair, fidgeted and mumbled to himself again. He had been doing that for the past forty minutes or so.

Flexing your fingers, you observed the thousands of Saeni standing together. You weren’t sure how they were segmented, if at all. If kielas stuck together or if they were grouped by weapon or some other factor. You didn’t even know how battles worked for Exia’s sake. Would they stand across from each other and slowly march forward while letting the magic users exchange blows like some 17th century battle reenactment? Would both sides immediately sprint toward each other and begin fighting like they so often do on Vikings? Would the draikensu use guerilla tactics and have traps planted throughout the forest? Or would the enemy resort to a defensive strategy and stay back to protect the rift with all their forces?

You prayed to the gods it wasn’t the last one, because then General Son’s plan would instantly fall to shit, and the battle would be over before it ever started.

You didn’t think it would be the last one, though. If there was one thing you’d learned about Uzjuk and his posse of dark Saeni, it was that they never passed over a chance to kill and destroy.

And this was a very large opportunity for them to do just that.

Rays of morning light began to shine across the sky, making everything a bit brighter and coloring the world a radiant gold. Though, for now, most of the field was still covered in shade.

You made yourself breath slowly as you lightly touched the feather charm on your choker and listened to the forest. To the birds and the bugs, the creaking of trees, and the scuttling of small creatures in the underbrush.

To the sound of thousands of feet hitting the ground.

Your eyes widened and the pastel-haired Saeni interrupted his muttering to yelp out a curse.

“They’re coming,” someone down the line warned in a low voice.

Okay… okay okay okay. Here we go. Everything is going to be fine. You’re a scorja, you’re strong, you can do this.

You pulled an arrow out of your quiver and loosely notched it while the troops below drew their weapons, the ringing of metal reverberating in your ears.

On the field, one Saeni strode out before them all, holding his spear high in the air. General Son.

“On this day, with the sun shining down upon us, we will look darkness in its face. We may tremble, our bodies may bleed, and our swords may break… but we will not let the darkness prevail any longer!

“As one, we will stand together! As one, we will fight together and die together!”

General Son slammed the butt of his spear into the earth and roared.

The soldiers echoed, pounding their weapons against the ground or their chests.

“Do not fear death, my brothers and sisters… for our mother goddess will embrace you with open arms and Exia shall raise her cup in salute to your bravery!”

He brought his spear down again as he tilted his head back and yelled into the morning sky.

You and the other soldiers followed, screaming with all you had as the draikensu drew closer.

“STAND TALL SOLDIERS OF ILLAIN! STAND TALL AND FIGHT FOR YOUR FAMILIES, YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR KING, YOUR GODDESS. STAND TALL WITH ME, WITH EACH OTHER! STAND TALL IN THE MORNING LIGHT OF ILLAI!”

General Son let his voice sing across the clearing as he turned to face the opposite side of the field while you and the Saeni shouted into the open air once more.

Your heart beat wildly, and you breathed heavily. The sun was warm on your back, but you shivered from the adrenaline now rampaging through your veins.

The draikensu answered your screams with their own, whooping and hollering tauntingly as they ran through the trees.

Your hands began to shake, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Alright, death registration. You know the drill. Let’s do this one last time.

Releasing an unstable exhale, you reopened your eyes and stared into the trees. Waiting.

“Remember, if they move to attack right away, we go loose,” the female beside you reminded the archers close by.

You didn’t forget, but you nodded to yourself.

If they attack, we go loose. If they attack, we go loose. If they attack, we go loose.

The crazed shrieks of the draikensu were so loud now, they had to almost be upon you. The sounds echoed off the trees, filled your ears. Their footsteps seemed to vibrate the earth.

And then they broke through the tree line.

Scourges of draikensu sprinted out of the forest. So many it seemed like they were overflowing and spilling out. And they gave no signs of stopping. They were heading straight toward the Saeni front line.

In the distance, an archer called out the order to take aim while General Son yelled for shields.

It took a second for the order to register because you were so taken back by the draikensu pouring out of the trees, but then you quickly inhaled, raised your bow, and drew back. As you searched for your first target, glowing light began to flare up throughout the Saeni ranks.

You hurriedly shifted your eyes over the multitudes of colors, picking out several areas that lit up blue, but only one stood out as Yoongi’s magic. It was far away, toward the other side of the field, but the mint hue was unmistakable.

All of the sudden, a semi-translucent rainbow wall flashed to life in the middle of the field between the Saeni and the charging draikensu. The enemy slammed into the barrier; most being stopped in their tracks but some managing to slip through.

It was just like the shield Yoongi had enacted around Juufa’s temple. Only much bigger.

The few who were able to push through were immediately downed by archers from the south side of the cliffs.

“Loose!” A Saeni screamed somewhere down the line to the left.

Shit, right.

You narrowed your eyes and peered down your arrow, picking out a draikensu and slowly exhaling. Then, as the mass of archers around you let of their bowstrings and sent a round of arrows into the enemy, you did the same.

You couldn’t tell if it was your arrow or someone else’s, but the person you had been targeting was hit in the chest and the impact caused them to clutch at the shaft now embedded in their body before falling to their knees.

You hastily snatched another arrow from your quiver, aimed, and sent it flying.

You did it again and again and again.

Yells of pain soared into the air, but you didn’t stop.

Volley after volley of arrows were sent into the enemy line where they were held up by the magical shield, and any that were able to get through the colorful barrier made it no more than thirty feet before they were shot down.

The bodies piled up. But more continued to emerge from the forest.

You reached a hand over your shoulder for a new arrow as a gust of wind disturbed your hair and conjured goosebumps along your skin, but all your actions stilled as a mix of maroon, purple, and yellow light erupted from the trees.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you watched three draikensu stroll out from the greenery, their hands pulsating with the glow of magic.

Oh, shit. Oh, FUCK.

“Take them down!” And archer yelled as the dark magic users raised their hands. “Take them down now!”

You grabbed an arrow, notched, and aimed while shadows gathered at a singular spot on the shield’s surface, causing it to ripple.

Their magic.

“Alright, you fuckers, let’s stop right there,” you hissed.

As if she heard you over the distance, wind, and wails, the magic user closest to you lowered her amethyst-glowing hand and peered at the cliff. Your eyes went wide and you cursed under your breath as she seemed to stare directly at you.

You released the bowstring, sending your arrow screaming toward her chest, as did the other archers.

Not a single one thumped into their bodies, though. They all bounced off a dark purple shield fabricated by the magic user just moments before the arrows landed home. It encased both her and her two buddies, making it impossible for you to hit them.

The other two were still attacking the barrier in the middle of the field, the shadows they created causing that spot to warp and distort even more. Whatever their magical counter was, it allowed more draikensu to slip through the increasingly darkening spot. Not all at once, but enough that the southern archers weren’t able to kill them all. Some were reaching the Saeni front line.

Your breath caught in your throat as they engaged with each other, the ringing of clashing metal resonating across the sky.

Returning your eyes to the middle of the field, you saw the shield’s colors were growing muddy. It was growing darker and darker as the shadows penetrated its surface. It almost looked like veins of darkness were spreading out from where the shadows drilled into the magic.

The shield cracked.

And a moment later part of it shattered, leaving a large, gaping hole that caused the draikensu forces to shriek in delight and rush through.

The rest of the shield held itself together for one… two… three… four… five more seconds.

Then it flickered and disappeared entirely.

Slashing diagonally, Jungkook cut into a male’s chest. Blood spattered onto his upper leg as the draikensu fell. Before his previous target even hit the ground, the burgundy head spun and thrust one of his blades deep into the belly of a female while parrying the strike of a curved sword with the other.

Grunts and screams were all around him. The clanging of metal against metal filled his ears. Crimson coated his fingers and the smell of iron permeated his nostrils.

Yanking his blade from the female’s gut, he kicked her away before stabbing his now freed short sword into the thigh of the draikensu who’s attack he blocked. As the male’s leg gave out underneath him, Jungkook dislodged the blade, adjusted his grip on the handle, and quickly cut the male’s throat. The action caused the draikensu to drop his sword and clutch at his neck. Blood poured over his hands and he gargled while collapsing into the dirt, the life in his eyes dissipating as the blood from his body spilled onto the earth.

Breathing hard, the Saeni caught movement out of the corner of his eye and sidestepped the swing of an axe. The blade so close he could feel the disturbance it caused to the air. Blood and sweat dripped down Jungkook’s face as he leveled his gaze on the new opponent. The draikensu sneered, peeling her lip back from her teeth while pointing her axe in his direction.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Jungkook rushed the female. Ducking below her next attack, he continued forward and dragged the edge of sword along her calf, which caused her knee to buckle. At the same time, he rotated his torso and brought his other blade upwards to slice at the flesh on her side. She gasped and faltered a step while Jungkook dug his heel into the ground and narrowed his eyes. Hissing in pain, the female swung her axe wide, but the burgundy head jumped backwards to avoid the weapon.

Placing a hand over her bleeding side, the draikensu bared her teeth and snarled, “I’m going to cut off that pretty head of yours.”

Jungkook tightened his fingers around his short swords but didn’t bother replying. With a growl, the draikensu brought her hand back to the axe’s shaft and heaved the weapon toward him. Dodging the axe bit, Jungkook swiftly pivoted and dashed forward, carving into the female’s torso. Using the momentum of his movements, he then slipped behind her and thrust both swords into the junctions of her neck and shoulders. Wrenching the blades out, she toppled to the ground.

Blood dripped off the tips of his swords as Jungkook allowed himself a second to glance up at the eastern cliff again, desperately searching for a glimpse of you.

There, still in the same spot as last time. Relief flooded his heart as he caught sight of you still raining down arrows into enemy lines while surrounded by soft, golden sunlight.

Knowing you were alright gave him the resolve to refocus on the chaos around him. On the male that was running toward him, longsword brandished and ready to be swung.

Gritting his teeth, the peridot-eyed male charged and met him head on.

Letting out a loud yell, Namjoon rammed his shoulder into the draikensu, knocking his opponent back a step and giving the yellow-eyed male space to clobber her with his hammer. The blunt, heavy head of his weapon hit the draikensu’s chest, shattering her sternum and sending her now broken body backwards.

Straight into Jin’s side.

The impact of an unexpected body flung into him caused the eldest member of the kiela to stumble and slip on the dewy, blood-slicked grass and trip over the dirt clods. With a curse, the raven-haired male lost his footing entirely and fell, the limp body of the female pinning down his sword arm. A nearby draiknesu noticed him struggling to get his arm out from under the body, his sword caught on a strap or something. With a gleeful squeal, the draikensu bounded over the corpses strewn on the ground and raised his spear. Ready to impale the partially immobilized raven-haired male.

Jin tried to yank his sword out, to no avail. “Fuck. Shit. Fuckin-fuck it.”

In a last second decision, Jin let go of the sword’s handle and tugged his arm out from underneath the heavy, limp body. Heart pounding in his chest, he rolled to the side just as the spearhead was thrust into the earth right where his head had been. The draikensu yelled and went to retract his weapon but Jin braced his hands against the ground and kicked the male’s legs out from underneath him. The action caused the draikensu to land hard on his back, which forced the air out of his lungs. Before the male could regain his wits, Jin pushed himself up to his knees and crawled on top of the draikensu so he could deliver a punch to the male’s temple. The hit left the male in a daze, allowing Jin to wrap his hands around his opponent’s head. One palm at the chin and the other at the back of the head. Then, the raven-haired Saeni grunted and abruptly pulled the male’s head up and to the side, snapping the neck with a loud pop.

Releasing the draikensu with a sigh, Jin let the male lifelessly flop back to the earth while moving off the body. Focusing his attention on the dead female still on top of his sword, he went to shove her over when a crunching sound came from just behind him. Spinning on his knees, he saw Namjoon following through on a swing that had crumpled a draikensu Jin hadn’t noticed sneaking up on him.

The older Saeni blinked as his leader wiped sweat from his brow.

“Shit, thanks Joon.”

“Sure thing hyung. And sorry about that.” The yellow-eyed Saeni gestured to the dead female.

Shrugging, Jin finally rolled over her body and began started to detangle the hilt of his sword from where it was caught in the straps and loops of her armor. Meanwhile Namjoon covered his back, demolishing any draikensu that dared to come near with precise swings of his destructive hammer.

The seven Saeni could hear the battle as they weaved through the trees, the sick melody of cries and wails piercing their ears. None of them commented on it, though. They had their own job to focus on and entertaining the possibilities of how their comrades were faring would only serve as a distraction.

So, they remained mostly silent as they continued moving in formation, listening to the distant screams and staying alert for potential threats.

Jimin was in the middle of the small pack, escorted by Mingi and a tall, golden-haired female named Ipsa at the front. To his right was a short male who had introduced himself as ‘Geodin,’ and to his left was the archer who requested to be called ‘Stem.’ Bringing up the rear was the whip wielding Koliifa and his sister, Opikal, who had eyes so dark they appeared obsidian.

As the seven looped around the draiknesu’s forces, a light, beautiful voice occasionally floated into Jimin’s head, making tweaks and adjustments to their route. The apricot head would quickly relay the message to the others, but the Saeni didn’t talk much beyond that.

There was too much at stake for casual banter.

They had been moving for about forty-five minutes, heading out just before the sun began to rise, and so far, the plan to go around the enemy was working. Not a single dark Saeni had crossed their path. But that could easily change at any moment, so the group never relaxed.

After they each vaulted over a fallen tree, Ipsa briefly glanced over her shoulder and interrupted their silence. “By any chance, does the mother goddess know if this rift will be out in the open or…?”

“Or if there will be any draikensu guarding it?” Stem added while dipping his head to avoid a branch to the face.

Jimin winced and dug his nails into his palms while his legs rustled the leaves of several plump shrubs. “No and… no.”

One of the Saeni breathed out a curse and the apricot head held back a frustrated groan at how much of a disadvantage they truly had before explaining that Illai could only see the world through his eyes while she was leasing out space in his head. However, she was able to feel the dark energy pulsating from the rift like a beacon, and that was how she was guiding them.

As the terrain started to grow more inclined, Mingi gruffed out, “Each of you were selected for this mission for a reason. Whatever is waiting for us, we can handle it.”

“You know, General Son said we’d be going in with little information,” Opikal piped up from the back in an incredulous tone, “but I didn’t think it would be this little.”

Koliifa snorted beside her while skirting around a thin tree. “Aw, cheer up, sis! It’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be something, alright,” Geodin muttered in response.

Using a collection of tree roots as steps to climb further up the steady slope, Mingi offered how even if there were indeed draikensu guarding the rift, they were probably so pissed they weren’t allowed to join the battle that they won’t be as attentive to their surroundings as they should be.

“And that makes for easy pickings,” Koliifa said as he sent his dark-eyed sister an easy grin.

Opikal just grumbled in return, skepticism swimming in her eyes.

Then, the conversation faded, and the faraway screams once again filled the void of their voices.

His feather earring swung heavily in the air, weighed down by the blood soaked into the fluff. It continuously hit the blue-eyed Saeni’s neck as he fought, which stained the delicate skin a dark crimson.

Tae released his bowstring, sending an arrow flying into the middle of a male’s chest, then lunged to the side while tilting his bow to gouge the razor edge of his weapon into the lower belly of a draikensu. As the male dropped his axe, clutched at his gutted abdomen, and bellowed in pain, Tae retrieved a new arrow from his quiver as his body came to a stop. Quickly scanning over the people fighting around him, he picked a target and embedded the arrow just below their clavicle before he turned and quieted the screaming draikensu by efficiently slicing his throat open.

Following the momentum of his bow, he pivoted on his heel while pulling out another arrow. Tae spotted a female running in his direction and nocked the arrow, but as he went to draw, he caught a flash of metal in his peripheral vision. Diving, he evaded the arcing blade and rolled to a crouch on the dirtied grass. Re-notching the arrow, he allowed the silky fletching to sift through his fingers for just a moment as he hastily relocated the draikensu female.

As soon as he let the arrow fly, Tae found himself dodging another strike of a sword by lurching forward into another roll. The sword wielding female growled at her second miss and geared up for another attack while the grey-haired Saeni rose to his feet. With an aggravated yell, she heaved her large blade toward Tae’s body, but he ducked and spun behind her in one, fluid motion. The sun glared in his eyes and Tae dragged the sharpened edge of his bow up the female’s entire spine, making her stiffen then collapse.

Sucking oxygen into his lungs, Tae slumped for just a moment to catch his breath. Long gone was the natural scent of the forest, rather the stench of iron and death was rich in the air. The once smooth, undisturbed grass of the field was torn up and ravaged. Blood slowly trailed along the curves of the weapon, covering more of it in liquid red until it collected and dripped off toward the ruined earth.

It was a messy, brutal battle.

And it was far from over.

Pressing his lips together, Tae lifted his chin, narrowed his bright blue eyes, and found his next target.

Dropping to the ground, the arrow barely missed your head.

Not many draikensu carried bows since most of them wanted weapons that allowed them to directly carve into flesh, but the handful that did had begun shooting at you and the other archers not too long ago. Which was just great. Fantastic. Splendid.

Your cheek pressed into the sun-heated rock as you contemplated if you should lay low for a minute or get right back up. You blew out a puff of air, disturbing some of the dust beside your face, before pulling your body forward a bit so you could peek over the cliff’s edge.

You raised your head just a smidge and CLINK!

An arrow hit and bounced off the rock just a few feet from your face, making you immediately duck back down to safety.

You breathed in through your nose. Alright, well… this fucking sucks.

As you exhaled, you glanced up just in time to see a Saeni further down the line get hit in the shoulder, blood immediately blossoming around the shaft now buried in her body. A tiny whine escaped past your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut… but all your saw were the corpses littering the field behind your eyelids. Their broken and mangled bodies.

Please don’t be one of them. You sent out a silent prayer to the boys below as your chest rose and fell heavily. Please.

The sound of another arrow sinking into flesh made you clench your fingers around your bow, and you shifted to better lay against the ground and make yourself smaller. But the movement caused the dagger now strapped to your waist to dig into your side and the sensation made you go still with a jolt.

Jungkook…

Fuck, if Jungkook saw you right now… he’d be so disappointed. You were cowering, you were hiding. This wasn’t you.

What am I doing?

You shook your head against the ground, feeling some pebbles grind into your skin, before muttering, “Fuck. This. I need to woman the fuck up.”

Adjusting your body, you bent one leg up toward your head and winced as a decently sized stone scraped against your ankle. Okay, so what if I get shot with an arrow? You forced yourself to scoff while sliding your hands upward along the rock. That’s nothing. That’s just a slightly more painful bee sting.

“I’m a scorja, dammit. I fucking got this.”

One… two… three!

You pushed yourself back up to your knee and snatched an arrow from your quiver. Picking out a draikensu, you aimed. The breeze danced across your face and the sun warmed your back as you squinted and sent the arrow loose. It thumped into the draikensu’s thigh, making you smirk, but as you went to finish her off you heard commotion coming from your right. Furrowing your brows, you spared a glance over but immediately had to double take and stare as your mouth dropped.

Draikensu were pulling themselves up and over the edge of the cliff. The bloody bastards had actually climbed up the vertical rock face.

“For fucks sake…”

They engaged with the archers, working their way down the line. Coming closer and closer to you as more of them crawled into view. They were maybe only forty yards away. Shifting, you repositioned yourself to face north, and as a male began to sprint toward you, you raised your bow.

He was thirty yards out.

You shot, but he managed to evade it.

Twenty yards.

Cursing under your breath, you reached for another arrow.

Ten yards.

Your eyes widened and you tried to move out of the way, but the male rammed straight into you and tackled you to the ground.

You let out a pained grunt as you were slammed down, bow flying out of your grasp, and your heart pounded as the male straddled your torso and held one of your shoulders down with a large hand. His other raised a knife that shined in the sunlight. He aimed it at your chest, and with a wicked smile, plunged the blade down. Throwing your arm up beneath his, you blocked his arm’s descent and stilled the tip of the knife just mere inches from your body. Your trembled as the male sneered and pressed down harder, trying to force the metal into your flesh.

His thighs fully encased your waist, making it impossible to grab the ruby-hilted dagger at your side. Slowly, the knife lowered closer to your heart as his superior strength began to overtake you which made you release a gasping whimper. Desperately, you stretched out your other arm and blindly felt around the ground.

“Why struggle when you’ll just die like the bitch you are anyway?” The male mused, eyes flashing with cruel amusement as you wrapped your hand around what you hand been searching for. “Just let it happe-”

You smashed the fist-sized rock into his skull with a powerful yell.

The strike caused the male’s body to slacken and you used that moment to flip your positions. The movement of the switch, paired with his limpness, made him involuntarily drop the knife. As you righted yourself on top of his thighs, you snatched it from the rocky ground and thrust it hilt deep into his side.

The male wheezed as you wrenched the blade from his flesh, eyes struggling to stay open as he stared up at the sky. His blood began to gush from the wound and pool beneath him while you adjusted your grip on the handle and brought it down again, this time right underneath his sternum.

You were breathing heavily as the male’s gasps turned raspy and more blood leaked from his body.

Then the draikensu released a strangely contented sigh. “My sacrifice is worth it. The key will die while you pathetically fight. The key will die and Uzjuk will reign.”

Your hands tightened around the handle of the blade while the rest of your body froze. “What did you just say?”

A final, rough exhale came from the male’s lips, then his eyes became completely empty and unfocused. You didn’t bother trying to get him to say more. He was dead.

Shit. Okay, he said ‘the key will die,’ but they couldn’t possibly know where Jimin is, unless… fuck, what if they do have people waiting for him at the rift?

Your hands began to tremble as you considered the possibilities. The one that rang loudest in your head was that Jimin was about to blindly run into a death trap. Your best friend was going to die. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth as you tried to calm yourself, but the thought kept pounding through your mind like a migraine.

Jimin is going to die.

Jimin is going to die.

Jimin is going to die.

I don’t even know where he is and he’s going to die.

You darted your eyes around in panic, noting the other draikensu who had climbed up the cliff face were also death… though they had unfortunately taken some of the Saeni along with them. The remaining archers were back to sniping down at the enemy, not having a slightest clue as to the hysteric dread rampaging in your mind. Pressing both hands to your head, you held back a scream.

I don’t know where he is, but I have to try. I have to try to help him.

Taking deep breaths, you crawled off the dead male and over to your bow. With it secured in your grasp, you pushed yourself to your feet. Then you ran into the trees without looking back.

I don’t know where the fuck you are, Slim Jim, but I’m coming.

The coolness of the shaded forest slid over your skin and you mentally planned your route around the draikensu.

I’m coming.

An angry growl vibrated in Yoongi’s throat as he flung his magic out toward the female, creating a rope of mint blue energy that fastened around your neck. He yanked, forcing her body to fly over the bodies and blood-soaked grass to be impaled on the dagger held in his other hand. The draikensu let out a choked sob before her head lolled due to him dragging the blade up and to the side, spilling more crimson over his hand and killing her with precision. A blur of movement to his left made Yoongi fling the now dead female in that direction, right into the draikensu that was brandishing a short sword.

The draikensu was pummeled by the body, causing him to hit the ground with a cry. He struggled to drag himself out from the weight now laying on top of him, but after about five seconds he too was laying limp on the dirt and grass.

A tiny throwing knife buried between his neck and shoulder.

Hobi pivoted after his throw and slid beneath the large hammer swinging for his gut.

“You were pretty slow on that one!” Yoongi called over to the spy, who was still dancing around the draikensu’s heavy weapon.

Hobi’s chest heaved and he shouted back without looking. “Give me a break hyung! I’m running low on blades so I’m making sure every throw counts!”

The mint-haired Saeni grit his teeth and raised both hands toward a draikensu that had made the mistake of setting his sights on the Saeni’s partner. Blue light encased the draikensu’s head and Yoongi harshly grunted before ripping one of his hands to the side.

The draikensu’s head followed, separated from its body in a spray of blood.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier, idiot? Get over here,” Yoongi ordered as the headless body slumped first to its knees then crumpled to the ground, the neck pumping out red.

The disturbing image distracted Hobi’s opponent for a split second, giving him the opening to dart forward and sink both of his knives into either side of her neck. He pulled the blood-covered blades out and punched the female in the jaw, forcing her to fall and bleed out onto the earth. Then the white-haired male trekked backwards to Yoongi’s side, his eyes alert and aware of his surroundings.

When he was near enough, Yoongi reached out and grasped one of Hobi’s straps to tug the Saeni fully against him. Shutting his petal pink eyes, Yoongi held Hobi close while inhaling deeply. The magic emitting from his hands flared even brighter and suddenly a circle of mint-colored energy pulsed outward, throwing every draikensu around them roughly fifty feet back.

Now that he had time and space, tendrils of blue light crept out from Yoongi’s hands and Hobi watched in amazement as they leeched onto the dead Saeni on the ground. The light searched the corpses, locating and withdrawing the blades Hobi had flung into them. With a low murmur from Yoongi, the light came zipping back toward the male beside him and they softly returned the blades to their sheaths across Hobi’s body. Then the light retreated to Yoongi’s glowing hands, leaving the kiela’s spy astonished.

“I… hyung… that was-I didn’t know you could do that!”

Even though the draikensu were starting to regroup from his buffer attack, Yoongi felt pride well up inside him and he smiled. “It’s just something I’ve been working on for you. Finally worked out the kinks a few days ago.”

Tilting his head to softly take in Hobi’s flushed cheeks while he stammered out a shocked thanks, Yoongi noticed the draikensu were now charging the duo and he reluctantly pushed the Saeni away. Instantly, Hobi realized as well and hardened his gaze before throwing one of the blades in his hands. It sunk into its mark’s flesh and Hobi ran to meet a new opponent.

Gripping his dagger, Yoongi was about to follow but paused and narrowed his eyes as bursts of maroon, amethyst, and yellow light flashed in the air close by.

The seven Saeni were breathing hard from their nonstop running as they suddenly came to a halt because of Mingi’s order.

The hazel-eyed guard slowly lowered his fist from where it had been raised beside his head and the Saeni all listened intently to the world around them, trying to pinpoint the noise that had caused the guard to stop them.

“I don’t hear anything,” Geodin whispered, and the others agreed.

Mingi swore and shook his head. “I swear I heard something running in our dire-”

A singular, loud howl echoed through the forest… then the sound of large paws running over the earth.

Coming straight toward them.

The male panted as he blocked the draikensu’s attack with one of his blades and cleaved into the male’s collarbone with the other. More blood splattered across Jungkook’s face and chest, the warm liquid causing him to flinch slightly, and the male fell with a gargled scream.

Pivoting, Jungkook sharply inhaled and quickly leaned back to dodge the point of a spear that was jabbed toward his head. The female growled and lunged again, this time aiming for his chest, but the burgundy head jumped aside before surging forward to get beyond the reach of the long weapon. His sudden switch to the offensive made the draikensu stumble back in surprise, and her heel tripped on the arm of a fallen Saeni. She gasped as her body lost balance and Jungkook aided her descent by sending his foot into her stomach. As she fell, Jungkook followed, plunging both of his swords deep into her chest just as she hit the ground. The draikensu weakly coughed and blood bubbled up past her lips. Then Jungkook yanked the blades out, causing the light in her eyes to wither away.

Hanging his head for a couple heartbeats, still panting as exhaustion settled over him, Jungkook gulped in air and looked over to the eastern cliff.

And felt his heart stop when he didn’t see you.

He shook his head and rescanned the archers. You had to be there. You had to be. But he felt dread bloom inside him as he realized there were fewer Saeni kneeling on the edge than before and you weren’t there.

You weren’t there.

You weren’t there.

His chest tightened painfully as his exertive breaths shifted to panicked ones.

“Fuck, where are you, sweetheart?” Jungkook whispered in a scared voice.

Gripping the hilts of his swords so hard his knuckles turned white, his body grew cold and he began to shake as he raked his eyes over the archers again and again and again. Desperate for any sign of you.

But there were none.

The world seemed to blur around him and all he could see was the empty spot where you. Should. Have. Been. He couldn’t even hear the screams or clashing of metal around him anymore. It all just collected and faded until it was a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

His peridot eyes glistened, and a lump formed in his throat as he choked out a small, fragile “no…”

And he was so focused on the absence of you… so distracted from the battle around him… that he didn’t notice the blade being thrust toward his exposed side.

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