#gonna run away and hide and be hidden and not answer questions now

[lynxgirlpaws]

yeah I think this went well

[kquil]

PERFECT MATCH PART 2

PAIR. : poly!marauders x female slytherin reader

SUM. : despite being from Slytherin, as a fellow prankster, you give the marauders a helping hand

LENGTH : 1.2k

PART 1 | NAVI.

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Peter had blown their cover, and now the boys were running from Slughorn, who had caught them red-handed, switching the necessary ingredients for the next potion class. They should have known that Peter wasn’t the best choice for a lookout, considering he was the first to get caught and promptly given detention with Filch. As they were running away, however, their camaraderie lingered when Peter called out to them, hoping they wouldn’t be caught. 

The remaining three marauders make a valiant effort to run away as fast as possible. Remus stays a good few metres ahead of James and Sirius, his hidden athleticism sparking in only the most dire straits. Despite the potential threat of detention, the three grin widely through the chase; Sirius has the gall to laugh at the sheer amount of fun he’s experiencing. The freedom to break the rules and run freely from the consequences – only light penalisation in his eyes – was invigorating. None of them believe they would ever willingly stop their practical jokes, even Remus, no matter how much he denies it.

Racing through the halls with their youth pumping through their veins, Remus, James and Sirius make it so that Slughorn is considerably far behind them before slowing down. Between laboured breaths, they try to sort out their next move but quickly run out of time. Slughorn was quickly approaching according to their map and they resorted to hiding in a darkened hallway they don’t normally walk down. Consumed by the rush, they had managed to make it down to the dungeons just as you stepped out of the hallway they had barely hidden in.

They weren’t very good hiders but it was amusing so you kept your lips sealed despite your mischievous nature urging you to press them with questions. Your answer came swiftly in the form of Professor Slughorn, out of breath and keeling over with sweat drenching his brows. 

So that’s what’s happening~ 

Immediately understanding the situation, you step out of the hallway to face your gasping head of house and restrain a devious giggle at the sight of the marauders’ widened eyes. They’ve seen you, see them hiding. They’re also familiar with your artfully scheming ways likened to their marauder group’s mischief; the fact that you’re a Slytherin, however, doesn’t bode well. Fuck…were you gonna out them? 

You don’t need any prompting, already directing the professor before he’s managed to catch his breath, “Oh Professor~ by the way, if you’d really like to know…” Slughorn eyes you after finally catching his breath. Through the fog of his exhausted mind, he finds himself eagerly awaiting your direction, almost having forgotten why he was in his current state in the first place, “they went that way,” you point to the right, the opposite direction of the three tricksters. James, Remus and Sirius release a collective breath of relief but remain eager to see how the interaction may unfold further. 

“Who did?” Slughorn asks, trying to navigate the smog of fatigue clogging up his brain. 

“The marauders,”

“They did?” your potions professor brightens at the revelation. You guess he’s finally rediscovered his initial intentions. But woe is me~ can he trust you so easily? 

“They did what?” you tilt your head innocently, casually continuing the conversation as if you hadn’t just thrown him for a loop with that curveball of a question. 

“Went that way?” he points right, perplexed at your sudden change. It seems Professor Slughorn was still foggy in the head from his sapped stamina and the boys had to bite their lips from bursting out laughing – you’re a menace. 

“Who did?” you ask, pulling the most innocuous expression the boys have ever seen a Slytherin muster. Have you grown more beautiful since their last interaction? They can’t help but keep staring at your sweet face and pretty, pouty lips…

“The marauders!” Slughorn insists but you continue your oblivious stance. 

“What marauder?”

“But didn’t you just say?-- Oh never mind,” Slughorn gives up the chase and turns with a dull swish of his robes. For now, he’s satisfied that he, at least, managed to get Pettigrew. As soon as Slughorn was far enough away, you turn back to the crouching marauders and give them a wink, signalling that the coast was clear. 

“My fair lady!” Sirius dramatically bows down and kisses your knuckles, “How may I ever repay your kind gesture?”

“Hmmm…” you seem to seriously contemplate his playful words for a moment, though Sirius doesn’t mind, he’s more than eager to pay you back for saving his hide. “Let’s see…” You press your hand flat against his chest and slowly move down. The sultry overtones of your gesture make Sirius’ heart pound as he, Remus and James stare wide-eyed and gaping at your soft hands fondling their close friend’s chest. Suddenly your hand becomes a blur as you pull back his robe and steal a licorice wand from his inner breast pocket. “This’ll do~” you chirp innocently and begin to nibble on your newly acquired snack. “I can always count on you to be generous, Siri,” your wink sends a dangerous heat crawling up Sirius’ neck and exploding across his pale cheeks. This has never happened to him with a girl before! He’s supposed to make you flustered! 

Turning to Remus, you make a gesture with your hand as if to say ‘pay up’. However, when the tall brunette merely stares at you in wonder with a small, amused quirk on his lips, you raise a brow, “I know you’re loaded, Lupin. Gimme the goods,” and just like that, you also have Remus turning bright pink. How can you be so nonchalant and not realise the embarrassingly sexual innuendos underpinning your words?! Remus surrenders a peppermint toad. 

James was the last one of the three you turn to as you pocket Remus’ liberal offer. “You don’t have to ask me, for anything,” James chuckles and easily provides you with a handful of Fizzing Whizzbees. With a victorious smile, like a cute little squirrel who’s happy with her hoard, you pocket James’ addition and lean forward to brush a kiss along his sharp jaw. 

“I knew I could count on you, Potter,” 

James was floored. Sirius had to lean against the wall and Remus was limp against the large window sill. All three stare with a mix of surging admiration and boyish wonder as you walk away with a skip in your step. You’re so happy, you even begin to hum a soft little tune to yourself. 

“...wait… how come only James gets a kiss?” Remus asks, bringing Sirius back from his dazed state. James merely smirks in triumph – he’ll remember the softness of your pretty lips against his skin forever~

“Dearest!” Sirius calls, already jogging after you. “I think you’ve forgotten something!” 

“Yeah,” Remus adds with a cheeky grin, leisurely making his way over with James at his side, drawling in his Welsh accent, “gives us a cusan,” 

“What’s that?” you’ve stopped, curious as to what he may mean. From his tall height, Remus leans forward, bending at his hips and whispers in your ear. 

“That’s a kiss, sweetheart,” he steals one anyway at the base of your ear, where your neck and jaw meet. The high sensitivity of the area makes you squeal in surprise, only to be kissed by Sirius too, who aims innocently for your cheek. 

NAVI.

A/N : because of @urmomw4ntsme 's recent ask of wanting to see a Slytherin reader, it got me thinking about this request that i wrote last year for my 1k milestone. I couldn’t sleep until i finished writing this so it may not have the best grammar so please excuse me for that. this was also inspired by this interaction between Alice and the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.

[jamieroyjamieroy]

Having trouble writing my wips so I’ve written this little ficlet. I’m hoping it helps get my brain back into writing.

Enjoy this little whatever it is!

“We need to get married.”

The casualness catches Tommy off guard once the words register. It was said in the same tone someone would say ‘we need milk’. Like passing along some mundane information, like it’s a statement that has been made hundreds of times before and will be made a hundred more times in the future. No excitement, no emotion. Just a fact. They need to get married.

Hundreds of thoughts, fears, hopes and questions fly through Tommy’s mind in the blink of an eye. His brain still trying to catch up with the dramatic change in conversation, it’s trying not to freak out and go with the first instinct of running. Tommy takes a deep breath, he has done a lot of work to not act on that instinct. “Evan. What did you say?” Tommy asks wanting to make sure he heard correctly so he can react appropriately. Not that he knows what that reaction would look like.

“We need to get married.” Evan repeats not looking up from his phone, the tone in which he drops this bomb hasn’t changed. It is still said like it’s a fact, a forgone conclusion. Evan could be saying ‘today is Thursday so tomorrow is Friday.’ Tommy isn’t completely freaked out by the notion. Well he is but he isn’t going to jump to conclusions like the time Evan asked him to move in. Or the time Evan said he didn’t need feelings to sleep with someone. Tommy has begun to adapt to Evan’s impulsiveness and he gives them both a moment to process what was said. Time for him to remind himself how much he loves Evan and being hurt by him isn’t inevitable. Time for Evan to realise what he has said and how he has said it. Tommy can pinpoint the moment the words register for Evan.

His head pops up so fast Tommy is sure Evan has pulled a muscle in his neck. The pained expression on his face could be from that or the fear of having spooked Tommy once again. Evan drops his phone and approaches Tommy slowly like you would a terrified animal. It would be comical to Tommy if the realisation that he did this to Evan didn’t hit in that moment. He put that terror in Evan’s heart. He could kick himself for that.

“Hmmm interesting idea, could be an A plus idea one day. But today I’m going to have to give you an F for the execution. Gonna need a little more enthusiasm and romance next time you ask.” Tommy smiles wrapping his arms around a confused Evan. “Maybe hold off until we get past the moving in stage?”

“Ah, oh. I’m. Ugh. I said that out loud didn’t I?” Evan leans his head on Tommy’s shoulder and hides his embarrassment and fear. Tommy runs a comforting hand up and down his back. “I’m sorry Tommy I wasn’t thinking. Well I was but the, the filter between my brain and my mouth doesn’t work sometimes. I, I don’t. I’m not. That wasn’t a proposal.” Evan stutters out, Tommy relaxing a little when Evan’s arms wrap around him despite the tension in Evan’s own body.

“Hey. It’s ok. Remember we agreed no more running. No more assumptions. We talk. We work through it. We stick together. I’ll admit it shocked me to hear that. But I’m not leaving.” Tommy does his best to emphasise his words so Evan believes him. “Want to tell me why you had that thought?”

Tommy’s question hangs in the air, Evan’s face still hidden away. The two of them standing in the middle of Evan’s living room wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying slightly as both their heartbeats settle back to a normal rhythm. He begins to wonder if Evan will answer him. A low short chuckle tickles his neck.

“It’s so stupid.” Evan lifts his head, the tears in his eyes has Tommy worried until the chuckle comes again. “I was thinking about trying that new recipe I found last night. A few of the ingredients I need to get from a specialty shop so I was searching for locations.” Evan is smiling now, looking less distressed and concerned so Tommy relaxes more. They are still swaying, more like slow dancing if they were at a middle school dance, Tommy doesn’t let go. He hums to show he is listening, not interrupting.

“Anyway I found a place and it’s near the park I take Jee to sometimes. Then I thought about how cute she looked playing dress up the other week when I was babysitting. Which led me to think about how cute she looked as the flower girl for Maddie and Chim’s wedding. Annnddd then I thought how adorable she would look at our wedding as our flower girl and my mouth was running before my brain caught up with it.” Evan admits his embarrassment clear on his face.

“That’s an interesting train of thought.” Tommy tries to keep a straight face but he can’t help the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Evan mentioned their wedding. He is not ready for that, neither of them are ready for that. Not yet. But the idea of marrying Evan, that Evan is thinking of their wedding excites him. Terrifies him. But the thought of losing Evan again, losing him for good is far more terrifying.

“I’m sorry Tommy I didn’t mean to.” Evan is cut off by fingers grabbing his chin and lips kissing his. Evan opens for Tommy, sinking into the kiss.

“Like I said I want more enthusiasm and romance next time you ask.” Tommy kisses a stunned and silent Evan. Tommy hooks a hand in Evan’s shirt and pulls him towards the bedroom, only breaking the kiss to remove their shirts. He is going to show Evan that talk of their future doesn’t send him running anymore.

[blckbrrybasket]

Remmick and His Missy (4)

Sometimes you hated how elusive Remmick could be. It was no surprise to either of you. From the beginning you knew what you had signed up for when you fell into your odd relationship with him, but that didn’t mean his disappearances got any easier. Sure, he had been around for hundreds of years and seen people come and go, you didn’t feel what he felt. You couldn’t understand why he would run from his feelings like he so often did.

He was a vampire for god sakes. That had to count for something – to give him more strength. Remmick had plenty of physical strength, but fuck, he made it a difficult deal to break down his walls. His name is Remmick, he had a younger brother and a family, that was practically all you knew about him.

How did he get to America? Did he hail to Mississippi immediately? Did he have any lovers? There were so many unanswered questions you wanted to ask him, but you knew if you asked them in a rapid fire he would once again run away and hide from his thoughts.

What made him so skittish in the first place?

You were determined to find out. By now — with the sun down below the horizon — you’d be tucked safely inside your house. There was a whole other world that awoke after the sun went down. That thought was drilled into your head as you grew up, but it became more real after meeting Remmick.

He never explicitly told you about the midnight happenings, but he constantly reminded you to go indoors at night time. That warning didn’t stop you now though. Tapping your needles together, you swooped them rhythmically to hook the yarn as you knitted to keep yourself awake.

Without Remmick’s stable presence, your body grew accustomed to going to bed early, and yet, you fought against it. “Missy.” A syrupy voice drawled from the side of your house, Remmick staying hidden in the shadows. “Haven’t you been warned against staying out at night?”

“Not by anyone recently,” you instinctively responded with that brazen tone. To your luck Remmick seemed to be in a good mood and chuckled at your cheek. “Well, it’s dangerous to sit outside like ‘at.” You turned to look at the edge of your porch, waiting for him to appear.

“And I should listen to the disembodied voice ‘round my house…why?” Remmick finally walked into the light and eyed you, “Cause I know what’s right and wrong, missy.”

“Huh.” You said, acting stumped. Drawing the tip of your sock clad feet across the wooden porch, you tilted your head at him. Remmick’s eyes seemed to be stuck to every part of your body, never leaving your form. “Well, I don’t care,” you finally finished.

Remmick shook his head, “You’re a fool, darlin’.” Grinning, you mocked the movement of him shaking his head. “What is it, missy?” He slowly stepped up the porch stairs one by one, staring you down. “You not scared?”

“Why should I be scared of you,” you murmured quietly, watching him land on the porch. Remmick took another small step towards you as if testing the waters. “‘Cause I can touch you now. That don’t scare you?” You smirked, “Nah. You don’t scare me none.”

He chuckled and squatted to the side of your rocking chair. “Like I said, damn fool, girl.” Your eyes drifted to the top of his hair, nerves buzzing at how close he was. He didn’t emit heat like humans did. His entire presence caused your hair to stand up, but he sat there comfortably and unmoving.

If you could, you’d lift your hair to play with his hair, but you weren’t sure if he wanted you touching him. Leaning back, your rocking chair creaked quietly when you tucked your knitting onto your lap. A familiar, but soothing silence fell between you. Those questions still took over your mind though before you sighed.

“Remmick?” You started. “Are you gonna ask?” He retorted naturally. Remmick always had a knack for knowing what you were going to say. “Should I,” you answered gently. He exhaled heavily, “Let’s wait.”

“Let’s just wait…”

tag list: @cypherpt5fttaehyung

[fictionalsweethearts]

CONVENIENTLY CLOSE | VI X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Seven years have not passed in vain, and the woman in front of you seems to be Vi's sign, but hardened by prison, stronger, taller, eager to live the lost years. And to see you again. Faced with old habits and the need for a place to lay low, Vi takes refuge in your apartment and stays conveniently close, maybe too close.

Contains: arcane!vi, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of arguments and dialogues, nsfw, explicit stuff, arcane universe, childhood friends, romance why not?, SESBIAN LEX

Word count: 6,780

Note: This fic was born from this bot which gave me juicy material to use here, part of the story arises from it, all credits to the creator!

Also, english is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

It happened in the blink of an eye, the fleeting eye contact, a chill running down your spine as you stopped to look again at who you thought was dead or gone. You paled like a ghost, barely taking a step before her arms were around you, and you let out a gasp.

You barely recognized the woman whose face buried in your neck; the toned arms, the network of tattoos on her arms, the gear on the side of her neck, the pronounced hairstyle and the piercings moved this Vi away from the one you once knew, seven years did not pass in vain and both had changed a lot, but the memories still endured. You wrapped her with doubtful arms, insecure but at the same time overwhelmed by the situation.

Your mind was flooded with memories the moment you dared to inhale the essence of her neck, that sweet aroma hidden behind the sweat and leather of her jacket, the same smell that crept into your nostrils on those afternoons on the couch, practicing boxing together, hiding in the alleys to avoid the poor victims of your pranks full of enthusiasm and malice. Of that last hug that morning, before the paths separated, life changed, Vander died and Zaun sank into chaos commanded by organized crime. Everything had changed but that hug brought you back to sweet adolescence for a few seconds, before you pulled away.

"For God's sake, you're... muscular." you murmured then, looking at the taller woman with attentive eyes.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Vi's hands start to roam, finding their way over your shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips, the same thought kept repeating in her mind 'it's her, it's her'.

"It's an statement."

You could barely form a question in the face of such a situation, your childhood friend returning from a seven-year disappearance to stand before you in all her glory, alive, healthy, certainly different but still her nonetheless. At your sudden silence, Vi giggled, patting your shoulder gently. "Long story. don't wanna talk about it just yet."

You nodded, studying the Vi who was once four inches shorter and scar-free, realizing that wherever she was, circumstances had hardened her. “You were in prison,” you said then, not as a question.

“Surprise, surprise,” Vi muttered sarcastically. “I wasn’t dead. And i'll spare you the gritty details, cause I didn't exactly break out. I served my sentence, somehow."

She'd always had a habit of being vague, even during your childhood years. She never answered your questions directly, and she never explained herself when she got into trouble. It frustrated you back then, and it's no different now. "Enough about me. you're gonna have to fill me in. it's been like, what? Seven years?"

"Wait, I-" you had to shake your head and take a breath, cause suddenly having Vi before you wasn't among your plans. You were still at the alley. "Can we... go somewhere else? Grab a drink, talk this out?"

For a moment, she looks like she might refuse. For a moment, you wonder if she'll duck away, the way she always did. But then Vi sighs softly and nods.

"Lead the way, then." she takes a step back, folding her arms behind her neck. "I'm not payin', though.”

Gathering your thoughts and whispering a 'what a night' under your breath, you begin to lead Vi through the backstreets of a Zaun she no longer knows, but you do. Jericho served a wonderful octopus stew, and Vi was able to verify it once again after so many years. You sipped your cocktail, watching the hungry girl in front of you devour the plate, the Zaun market maintained its usual flow of customers and workers, a swarm of smells and sizzling of embers, murmurs, knives and pans to the fire filled the place.

"Now. You better start explaining how did you break out jail." you said.

The question doesn't come as a surprise - Vi had been expecting it. She sighs, and her eyes flutter up to yours, trying to find the words, trying to find the right way to say it. "I didn't break out. I served my sentence." she can see your skepticism, your disbelief, and she adds: "I got parole. Good behavior. That kinda bullshit."

"Good behavior. You?" you scoff.

"Yeah yeah, I was a saint, believe it or not. Guess I had a change of heart, people grow and all that."

"And now you're out and hungry." you comment, watching Vi finish the bowl and let out a hint of a burp.

"You gotta admit, the food behind bars is not so good." Vi grins at you again, her eyes flickering to your drink. "And the drinks either, care to share?"

Vi takes the glass, wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base. She stares at the liquid for a moment, then her gaze drifts to meet yours, she's thinking, a lot. "Seven years... seven years is a lot of goddamn time. Almost don't recognize ya. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Let's see…" you say, your eyes scanning the market as you gather up seven years of your existence and rank them in order of importance. "I have a job, I'm… an interpreter."

"A what?" she asks, raising a brow.

"I translate, dumbass."

"Oh, right right." Vi giggled. "You work for the pilties, do you?"

"Actually, yes. I get many academic texts to translate."

"Ah, a sneaky rat. No wonder you'd take any job," she snickers. "I'd almost feel betrayed if you said you never went back to your old life of stealing and pickpocketing."

"I realized I couldn't lean on crime forever." you shrug. "Languages fits me better."

Catching up had never felt so necessary. Vi had undergone a true metamorphosis in prison, a wild flower torn from its roots and still able to cling to life with minimal water, in hostile, dry, cold soil. Now she was outside, eager to feel the putrid Zaun air against her skin, no matter how foul-smelling it was, to continue a life that hadn’t even begun yet. Yet it was the means that worried you.

"What's your plan?" you asked after a short moment of silence. "Now that you're out."

"Well, I gotta lay low for a while. They ain't gonna be lookin' for me out in the streets, but that don't mean I should be causin' trouble." her lips pull into a small smirk, as her eyes flicker to you. "Maybe I'll start robbin' the rich and givin' the profits to those in need. Or something like that."

"You'll get yourself in prison all over again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you think I need you to lecture me, mother?" Vi's mocking tone couldn't help but annoy you. Again with that blind confidence and smug smile, hasn't changed one bit.

"Where are you staying?" you asked, sipping your drink which suddenly tasted bitter.

"Don't have a place. Can't exactly go back to my old apartment, for obvious reasons." her expression shifts into a smirk, a gleam of an idea passing her eyes. "Why? You offering a place to crash?"

"Huh, figured out so. You don't have a goddamn place to crash and still you intend to start robbing again?"

"It's not robbing, it's just taking something that some rich snob doesn't even need. Besides, I'll manage, alright?"

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction you expected, a sour feeling settling in your stomach as you recognized an old pattern that the years had accentuated in Vi; her stubbornness. It was one thing to be happy for an old friend who had gotten out of prison, but it was quite another to still believe that crime was a way of life and support that. And you were sick of that shit.

"I gotta go." you said, laying a bill on the table. "I have a paper to submit due tomorrow."

Vi's expression changed to as if she had been slapped. “Hey, I thought we were catching up. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

"I'm happy for you, Vi, but I'm not who I used to be anymore. And neither should you be." you say, your tone so sober that Vi thought you were pulling her leg until she saw you get up from your seat and start walking away. Vi scowls and grabs the bill you left on the table, crumpling it up in her hand.

"Damnit."

Zaun had changed. It was no longer the fragile balance between misery and hope, but an overwhelming network of crime, wrapped in the growing business of Shimmer and prostitution and the certain tacit anarchy that ruled its existence. Vi needed a few days to get used to it, to recognize the city that saw her grow up and find a way to make her way through that melodious chaos. Crime had evolved, the presence of enforcers was increasingly scarce, which gave way to more aggressive, more experienced, more ingenious criminals when it came to benefiting from the few assets of the rest. In Zaun there were no rich people, only the owners of manufacturing factories, who pulled the strings and commanded drug trafficking, who could not be counted on more than one hand's fingers. However, Vi was not going to allow herself to feel strange in the city she called home, not before playing her cards and making her way into the market she knew best apart from crime: fights. With raw confidence and the certainty that seven years of training behind closed doors had given her the skills to hold her own in the ring, Vi went to the Pit and signed up for one of the night's matches. The result? A downcast and barely alive opponent, Vi claimed a spot she didn't intend to give up, and a bag full of coins. She felt right at home.

It took her three days to make a small fortune, yet her name was frequently whispered and attracted unwanted attention, putting her in a position where she had to remain low for a few days. She could keep that up long enough to make a living after seven years in confinement, but to do so she needed the hospitality and goodwill of someone in particular; you. You assumed Vi wouldn't incur in invading your precious privacy, but that wasn't the case. Not when, working on one of your latest translations, in the quiet of your apartment just a couple of blocks from the red-light district, you felt the fleeting passing of a shadow in front of the window and your alarms went off.

She had to admit, you'd picked yourself a nice little spot to settle down in. Vi could have sworn you would have moved to Piltover, after hearing about your choice of profession, but here you were, all cozy in a fancy apartment in Zaun. She couldn't be sure it was exactly safe, but you probably had ways to deal with that. A couple hours of lurking around in the shadows, and she found herself outside of your apartment window, looking in. Vi takes a moment to study the view through the window, observing your movements inside. She should probably announce her presence, but she can't help the little thrill that comes from the thought of spooking you. 

Believing herself undetected, Vi stepped into the house while investigating what she thought was your office. A room cradled with an aesthetic chaos of shelves, books and plants, a kitten sleeping by the window, very self-absorbed in his feline dreams to recognize a strange smell in his safe space. But you certainly had better instincts than Pepper.

"Stop there or I'll blow your fucking head." you stated, holding a gun against Vi's head, not even recognizing her in the darkness of the room.

Vi's eyes widen as you suddenly speak, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin. She raises both hands in a small surrendering gesture.

"Woah, woah! Easy, doll, it's just me."

You remove the gun from her temple, realizing that it was Vi and not another petty thief. "For god's sake." you grumbled, putting the pistol down and turning the lights on. You were in your pajamas, messy hair and still glasses on from working for hours. "What the hell are you doing by breaking into my place?"

She responds to your question with a dismissive shrug. "I need a place to crash, darling."

"Oh, fuck off." you spat, quickly walking towards the desk to put the gun into the drawer again. Pepper woke up with a hiss, just then realizing a intruder was inside. He bristled. "Why would I? You got yourself in trouble, don't you?"

"Technically not trouble. At least, not yet." she glances down at the hissing ball of fur on the floor, and scowls. "You got a damn cat. Of course you do."

She averts your gaze, shifting awkwardly. "I need a place to crash. at least for the night. My place from... before ain't exactly available to me right now."

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, holding your hands akimbo. "I can't afford to have tenants, you know? Especially not the troublesome ones."

"I ain't a tenant, I'm just asking for a sofa to sleep on for one night. It's not a big deal." insists Vi, her tone softening, just like her eyes. Gosh, no, not that look.

When it comes to Vi, you resistance diminished. It was the years of friendship perhaps, or the fact that this ex-convict with deep eyes and attractive bearing softened something inside you, but to tell her 'no' has been always difficult. Even now.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, as Pepper descended from his pedestal to sniff the boots of this new guest. He didn't liked what he smelled.

"Yeah, just for tonight." she hesitates for a moment, before a small smirk spreads across her face. "Unless you have a queen-size bed that I could fit in instead."

"You'd wish." you grunted.

While you were looking for a blanket for this unplanned guest, Vi studied the room she was in. Apart from the academic chaos that surrounded the desk, the rest of the room was tidy and harmonious. In front of the plum-colored sofa, there was a coffee table, on it a couple of books and a candle, along with what Vi soon recognized as a stash. The candle catches her attention for a moment, and her gaze flicks to the small pipe sitting on the coffee table. Interesting. definitely not the doll I remember.

Behind her, a large shelf stood, next to a series of windows that allowed the moon to sneak in, in addition to Pepper's pedestal, fluffy and scratched. The room was composed of green, purple and orange tones, the string of lights hanging from the ceiling gave it a cozy and calm air.

"Here." you said, handing Vi the blanket.

"Thanks." she mumbles.

"Stay away from my stuff, you hear me? And the booze as well, you drunkie."

A small scoff escaped her lips once you closed the door, and she shifts under the blanket, getting comfortable. She takes a moment, before her gaze drifts over towards Pepper.

"Watcha glaring at, ya little shit." She mutters, the corner of her mouth curving up again.

Vi didn't want to abuse your trust, but she couldn't help but inspect the privacy of your office the next morning. Her desk was really a source of curiosity for her, with that amount of trinkets, sheets, books and notes. The carnivorous plant next to them seemed to be watching her, as if she wanted to bite her finger off if Vi dared to sniff through the drawers. But she was an ex-convict and that was a fucking plant.

Inside the drawers were spread documents and bills, you earned quite well for translation, and many orders came from the science district in Piltover, or failing that, from the shimmer factories in Zaun. You made no distinctions, you just worked. This could not help but annoy Vi a little, working for drug producers was certainly not ethical, but a woman like her had no right to talk about ethics either.

Pepper's hiss took her out of her thoughts, the gray cat looked at her with the disdain and suspicion of a human. As if he knew of her past mistakes, of the fact that she turned to crime from a young age, that she was unable to protect Powder when she needed it most, that as soon as she got out of prison her life seemed to point to repeating the same pattern of crime she had grown up with. But Vi had to be wiser this time, play her cards right, break a cycle she was too accustomed to. She let out a sigh, grabbing her jacket before she left the apartment through the window.

Vi was a silent visitor during the nights, she preferred not to bother you since she knew that her ability to stay on the couch depended on the owner's mood, but you also didn't admit that you were starting to get used to and even wish for the presence of the pink-haired woman at home. First there were brief conversations under the cover of night, then a shared cigarette and an improvised dinner, then it was talking about aspirations and fears. Suddenly Vi felt as close as when you were both fifteen. But mischief no longer appeared as the main act of your interactions, but something else that certainly felt different, an unknown spark that was missing before and that made Vi so pleasant to look at.

Days went by, she came brusied and exhausted from her fights to just crash on the sofa and sleep her pain away. It's been two months with such dynamic and you accepted it.

Vi shifted on the couch, an unusual weight on her stomach saying good morning to her and soon, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, Pepper let out a feline complaint. The cat rested on Vi, naturally comfortable after so many visits from her. Sitting up, Vi studied the room and was surprised to see a lump lying on the desk in front of the couch, you had been up late working again.

“She’s going to work herself to death at this point.” Vi muttered, carefully pushing Pepper off her lap and heading to the desk. Vi knew about the constant commissions that rained down in a never-ending stream of work, but she’d also seen you falling asleep during the day, forgetting to eat, and the dark furrow under your eyes worsening. The woman sighed, gently pushing you off the surface to lift you up with ease, carrying you to your room. You mumbled something along the way, ineligible but akin to a complaint that did nothing but amuse Vi.

As your back hit the soft surface of the bed, your hands sought out Vi’s, pulling her along with you. The woman was initially taken aback by this sudden display of affection, you weren’t one to hug or seek contact, but you looked sick and tired and she couldn’t say no to a person in that condition. She snuggled up to you, running a calloused but gentle hand up your arm, burying her fingers in the strands of your hair. "You really ain't taking care of yourself, cupcake." mumbles Vi, cupping your cheek as her thumb gently stroked your nose.

And at the sight of you, your haggard face against the mattress, the sun streaming through the window and outlining your huddled figure, Vi found a new purpose, someone to protect. And as soon as you fell asleep, she got up, put on her jacket and headed to the only place she knew for sure would allow her to make some quick money.

“Black?” you asked, only a month later, holding the small bottle of black dye as Vi wet her hair in the sink. If Vi understood anything about street fighting, it was that a character was the best way to get the public’s attention, the attention turning into bets and the bets into money. For several weeks now, Violet had been arriving at the apartment late at night, bruised, exhausted and with a small bag of coins in her pocket. “For you, doll” the woman would murmur, barely taking the time to kick off her boots before landing on the couch and falling asleep. At first you thought it was just another risky business Vi was getting into, but after a couple of weeks you realized that the name “Vi” was whispered among the alleys and the market, and that she carried the title of undefeated for more than five matches in a row. She was a champion, no doubt about it, and the beneifts from her profession meant more support for household expenses. Suddenly Vi had become your partner, and all she asked in return was a good talk and for you to heal her wounds. And certainly you would do so.

A smirk crept over her lips at the sight of the bottle resting in your hands. "Yeah, black. I'm sick of standin' out. The pink's too bright." her eyes flick to you again, a mischievous look in them. "You're gonna help me out, right? I don't wanna make a mess of myself while trying to do it alone."

You looked at the little bottle of dye and then at Vi, knowing that once she gets an idea inside her head, nothing can erase it unless she tries it. You sighed. "Sit down," you said at last, reaching for the plastic gloves and the cup in the cabinet.

It took you a good hour, but together, you both managed to dye her long pink hair a dark, natural black. Vi's face had hardened, her scars and freckles seeming to stand out against her dark hair. It was then that, in the face of a silence that spoke volumes, Vi was the one to dare to say the first word. "Gotta say, doll. You did a good job."

"You look like you fell into a pool of oil." you said, clearly disapproving of the new look. Even Pepper, who stepped into the bathroom, hissed at Vi.

"Ah, so even the goddamn cat's against me now, eh?" she asked, making you let out a chuckle. The dye wasn't the only thing that changed Vi's appearance, she left the striped pants and red jacket at home, getting herself tight jeans, ripped at the knees, leather boots, a jacket of the same material, provided with gold studs and the print of a two-headed wolf on the back and covering her bust, bandages wrapped tightly. She looked almost unrecognizable, intimidating. Watching her grab her bag and head for the door that night, you couldn't help but feel anxious and think of the worst case scenarios.

You let out a sharp sigh and spoke up. "Vi, wait. You don't have to keep doing this, y'know? Fighting. I'm sure we can find another way."

Vi frowns at your words, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

"Nah, don't start with that." Her eyes narrow slightly, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I've always fought, y'know? it's what I'm good at. I don't know anything else."

"I don't want you to get hurt." you insisted, stepping closer.

"I know how to take care of myself, dollface. I'm not some weak little kid anymore." her voice is a little gruff as she tries to deflect the concern.

"You've never been weak..." you mutter, your expression softening as Vi hovered closer. "But you're not invincible neither."

"Yeah, well, who is invincible?" she takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. her eyes dart across your face, searching for something. "You worry about me too much, cupcake."

"You'd like me to not give a shit about you?" you inquire, looking into Vi's eyes.

she scoffed. "Yeah, i'd like to see you try." her eyes flicker across your face again as her thumb briefly brushes over your chin. A moment of silence passes between you, the room feeling almost charged as the two of you stare at each other intently.

Her proximity was electrifying, the smell of hair dye and grease filling your nostrils, her firm yet gentle hand on your chin preventing you from looking away, your field of vision dominated by her, by her light blue eyes, her scar on her upper lip and eyebrow, her straight eyebrows, her messy makeup, her dark lips. "I couldn't stop worrying, Vi. Even if I tried to." you whisper at last.

"Yeah, probably." she mutters, her voice a hoarse whisper. You let out a gasp as Vi leaned in to kiss you, a simple, almost shy kiss, but capable of wreaking such havoc on your insides that your heart began to pound.

She captures your mouth in a gentle kiss, her lips moving against yours slowly, almost tentatively, as if she was testing the waters. When you gasp in response, she deepens the kiss, her hand on your face moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her other hand moves to rest on your hip, pulling you a little closer as you feel your skin burning with an unexpected thrill. But you find yourself pulling back, a hand against Vi's chest.

"No." you whisper, exasparated, overwhelmed, as Vi's breath brushes your lips.

"No?" she repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, the other still lingering on your hip, its grip having tightened. "You don't want me to keep going?"

"We shouldn't..." you weakly whisper. It wasn't just the kiss, it was about kissing a woman, and that woman being your lifelong friend. How much were you risking by crossing that line and delving into the taste of her lips and the firmness of her hands? God, you could barely explain it to yourself.

She pauses at your words, her grip on your hip loosening as she processes the conflicted look in your eyes. Her gaze drifts across your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Y'know..." a brief silence stretches between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the city outside the window. "We can stop... if you want."

Her hand slowly falls from your hip, and she takes a measured breath as she steps back, putting a short distance between the two of you.

You feel her slip away from you, backing away as a look of disappointment settles on her face and the glow of desire fades. You swallow. "I've never kissed a girl." you suddenly confess.

She runs a hand through her dark hair, visibly processing this new information. There's a moment of tense silence before she speaks again, letting out a huff. "I figured out so."

Your eyes widened, watching Vi taking a step back towards the door. "I should get going, there's a match I have to win." she says, leaving the apartment, leaving you confused, almost upset.

During Vi's absence, you couldn't find anything to distract you. As soon as you sat down for a moment to rest after feeding Pepper, tidying the living room, doing the laundry, heating up dinner or taking a shower, the touch of her lips flooded your senses and produced an almost unknown tingle in your belly. The smell of her skin, the gentleness with which her hand settled on your hip and pulled you against her. You couldn't stop replaying the scene, with some uncertainty if you were allowed to think that way about a childhood friend, or a woman. You only found some peace once you fell asleep that night, in the wee hours of the morning you felt an extra weight on the bed with you, an arm around your waist and an "I'm home, cupcake."

The next morning, you found the space next to you empty. You assumed Vi had fallen asleep on the couch, but her boots beside the bed and her jacket on your dresser said otherwise. You got up, hearing Pepper meowing in hunger from the kitchen. You barely noticed the overflowing bag of money on the coffee table or the sound of the shower running, only sleepwalking into the kitchen to feed the hungry cat. With the animal crouched before its bowl, you poured yourself a glass of water and only then turned back to the coffee table. “I told you I had a fight to win,” Vi said from behind you, watching you count the coins and bills in shock. The woman stood by the door, her hair still damp and a not-so-disguisable cut across the bridge of her nose, eyebrow, and cheek. “This is a bunch of money.” you muttered, studying the woman before you.

"Bets paid good last night." she nonchalantly replied, coming closer as she ignored the money. You were the center of her attention then, you and your robe. "I want you to take a break, alright? From your job."

"A break?" you asked, Vi's sincere smile speaking volumes.

"Yeah, for a while." she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You work too much."

Your expression softened, noticing the sweet gentleness which Vi treated you, how tender her eyes were at that moment. You couldn't help but lean against her touch. "About last night..."

Her hand cups your chin, her thumb gently grazing over your bottom lip. "You don't regret it, do you?" her voice is hoarse and low. Beneath her confident façade, there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, a subtle fear that you’ll reject her.

"No." despite the inner turmoil, you couldn't regret it, not when you wanted more.

Relief flickers across her face, and that cocky smirk returns to her lips. "Good." her hand cups the side of your face, fingers lightly brushing across your skin, and she leans in to whisper against your lips. "Cause I’m gonna kiss you again."

This time it wasn't a fearful kiss, but deep and ambitious from the first moment, Vi pulling you against her and wrapping her lips around yours with a soft moan that only served to ignite a timid flame of desire that now sought to become a fire. You closed your eyes and dared to hold her cheek, testing a terrain unknown to you but dominated by her. She wanted to be gentle with you, to ease you into this new terrain, but her desire for you overpowered her self-restraint and the kiss quickly turned hungry and greedy.

"Please, just..." she whispered against your lips, a hand sneaking underneath your robe to grasp your waist. "Let's sit down."

Vi landed on the couch, pulling you closer until you were straddling her, taking possession of the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. You moaned against her lips, savoring every sensation as if it were a dish you’d never tried before but surprisingly tasted delightful and addictive. Vi smelled like shampoo, her lips were soft and her hands were calloused but gentle. One of them ran down your spine over your robe, and you stepped back to quickly remove it.

She kissed your neck, running gentle palms up the expanse of your neck and chest, shyly cupping one of your breasts before you pulled away to look at her. She understood the approval in your eyes, bringing her hands behind your thighs to hoist your hips so your chest faced her. You let out a sigh at the wetness of her mouth enveloping your nipple, a gentle, tentative suck that made you clench in a new way. “Fuck…” you moaned, at the same time as their hands massaged your buttocks and dared to slap them.

"I was waiting for you to start swearing." she whispered against your tits, one of her hands running along your spine before you felt the urge for more.

Your ass landed again, this time Vi’s knee between your legs as she kissed you again. You wanted more, you wanted to know what else could be offered by a woman whose experiences had hardened her character but were unable to sour her kisses and moans. Vi still had so much love to offer, and you knew she loved you, every action, every look said it. The way she made you breakfast while you dealt with endless loads of work at your desk said it, her banal conversations that sought to lift your spirits said it, her hands holding you as if you were physically a necessity said it, the bags of money resting on the table said it, and her bruises from brutal fights where her main motivation was you, said it. Vi always loved you, but it was only a matter of time before you realized it was a romantic affection, not a friendly one.

You were exasperated, your hips rocking as Vi pressed her knee into your core, a delicious friction that produced a pleasant, addictive tingle, your wetness speaking for itself. Vi gripped your waist tightly, setting the pace, watching you with attentive eyes and parted lips. You found yourself moaning against her lips, kissing her in fits and starts before you had to pull back for more. "You're so pretty." she whispered.

You leaned in for another kiss, before your hands went down to pull Vi's top off. The contrast was clear, Vi standing out for her muscles and roughness, the network of tattoos on her arms and back capturing your attention for a moment before you ran a hand over her chest. Discreet glances spoke, and the moans that indicated something was going (very) right. Vi patted your thigh before you withdrew from her lap, sliding your panties down gently as she placed a trail of kisses from your hip to your knee.

You felt self-conscious, Vi’s gaze seemed to take in every last detail of your body, from the bones of your hips, to your navel, to the pubic hair that covered your crotch. But your insecurity had no place in the eyes of a woman who simply wanted you for being you. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand settling between your legs as she probed your wetness. “Shh… just checking.” She whispered, her thumb gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good?”

"Yes..." you moaned, the suggestive wet noises making you shiver. "Really good." you spread your legs wider, giving Vi the consent to continue further.

You lifted one knee onto the couch as a finger gently entered and curled towards the nearest wall of your insides, giving you a sweet tickle. Vi studied your expressions, the way your breathing quickened and your hands rested on her shoulders for support.

"You're so soft..." she murmured, her own breathing labored as she continued to watch your expressions closely, seeking any sign of discomfort. "Tell me if it hurts." her free hand lightly stroked your thigh, a gesture of reassurance while she checked on you constantly, realizing your reaction came from sole pleasure and not pain at all. Soon enough she eased a second finger and a sigh escaped her lips as she felt you clenching around her.

"That's it..." she muttered against your mouth as she leaned in to kiss you, her fingers slowly working in and out of you. Her touch was gentle but firm, as if she was being careful not to hurt you.

Your knees threatened to buckle, the constant motion inside you awakened nerve endings you thought were inert, Vi’s ears searching to pick up your every grunt and moan. Her breathing quickened, before she let out a hiss and pulled her fingers away. A quiet whine escaped your lips and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry... just a sec..."

Vi stood up from the couch, cupping the back of your neck to give you another kiss before gently motioning for you to lie down. "Lay back for me, cupcake." she whispered, finding a way between your legs as she trailed a way of kisses from your chest to your groin. There was a certain urgency to Vi's movements, a desire that made her breathing quicken and her fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as she parted them, skipping the main course in favor of running her tongue along the inside of your thighs, placing brief kisses and bites that allowed the blood to flow to your core, awakening your muscles, making you desperate for relief.

"Please."

"Shh, I've got you." she whispered against your skin, her voice a low and sultry rumble, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. "Patience."

You leaned your head back, eyes closing at the wet feel of her tongue as it ran up and down your core. She kept one hand firmly on your hip, the other on your thigh as she kept it apart. You moaned, looking down into a pair of lustful, delighted eyes, her mouth covering your folds, sucking and alternating with the tip of her tongue. Watching you, studying your pleasure, relishing on your sweet whimpers. “Fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking slightly in search of more contact.

Vi's tongue worked you slowly and deliberately, mapping every inch of your core with a mixture of delicacy and desire. She released your hip and brought her hand up to your chest, her fingers finding your nipple and giving it a firm pinch. "That's it, just feel it..."

Her hand kneaded your breast as her tongue circled your clit, unashamed to make wet, suggestive sounds, to moan against your folds and to stop and look at you from time to time. She smiled, you looked splendid, needy but at the same time pleased, your cheeks slightly rosy, your lips parted, letting out moans and light gasps.

"Breathe, cupcake. I wouldn't want you to hyperventilate," she said mischievously, sticking her tongue out to deliver a long lick along the length of your core.

"Easy for you to say..." you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was spinning, your body aching and desperate. But Vi had something else in mind, a way to drive you to the edge.

“Take a breath.” she whispered, pulling her mouth from between your legs to settle on her knees. “Look at me.” Vi caressed your thighs and moistened her ring and middle fingers with her mouth as you forced yourself to inhale and not exhale gasps of anticipation. Suddenly you felt her hand cup your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. You rested on your forearms behind your back as she inserted both of your fingers, twisting them in a specific motion that managed to draw a muffled whimper from you. It was sparkling, sweet, precise, and in the perfect spot. "Goddamn..." you whined.

"I know." Vi chuckled, kissing you again as the throes of an orgasm built in your lower belly and made your legs tense. "I know, pretty."

You reached a point where your thoughts were cut off, each and every one of them about Vi, her lips against yours, her fingers inside, curling and keeping a steady rhythm that did nothing but lead you down the right path to orgasm. You moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breathe once an electric wave shook every fiber of your body and your legs locked in an involuntary spasm. Vi rested her forehead against your chest, placing soft kisses as your arms cradled her head, yearning to be close to the person who was able to make you come so hard. Vi smiled, studying the way the pleasure settled into your muscles and your arms slackened.

"Good, babe, good..." she whispered, taking a look of your teary eyes before you pulled her to kiss her deeply.

You stared at the ceiling, the sun streaming through the window as your hands ran through Vi’s thick hair. You missed the pink, the dull black hardened her face too much. The boxer sighed, also processing the fact that she had just had sex with you and it had been wonderful from start to finish. This peace was new, it wasn’t temporary or fragile, it was latent, substantial, tangible. It was as if Vi had spent twenty-three years of her life searching for the calm that only lying on your chest gave her, and she couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy and satisfied. This is what life is about, not just surviving, but breaking down defenses and forgetting for a moment about being the strong one. You kissed her crown, Pepper climbed on the sofa and curled up between your feet and Vi's, purring calmly, like a lullaby.

"Looks like Pepper has finally accepted you." you whispered, making Vi lift her face.

"It was damn time. Just like her mom, stubborn as hell." she agreed, looking at the cat briefly before she nuzzled against your chest again. "He better get used to it, cause I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

[love--and--venom]

Dead Man Walking: Chapter Eleven

Summary: The aftermath of Shane's attack and a visit from more unwelcome guests

Warnings: talking about murder (past and future tense), implied SA, guns, idk if there's anything else lmk, not proofread!!

Series Masterlist

Your group stood in silence, the only sounds coming from their harsh panting and your crying. Chan shook his head, clearing away his shock to try and gain control over the situation.

“Changbin, San, get him out of here,” he ordered while gesturing to Elijah’s body with his chin. “Minho, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, you three come with me.” Everyone moved to do as they were told, but Seonghwa hesitated. He couldn’t just… let you go right now.

“We’ve got her,” Wooyoung assured him with Jisung, Yunho, and Jeongin nodding behind him. “Do what you gotta do.” Slowly, he released you so Wooyoung could pull you into his lap. He joined the other three and they disappeared down the hall while Changbin and San dragged the body out of the building. 

Jisung stayed behind you, never stopping the gentle strokes over your spine. You were sideways in Wooyoung’s lap with your legs draped over one of his and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Jeongin sat next to him, lifting your legs so he could let them rest on his lap. This left the spot in front of Wooyoung to Yunho, who held your hand in one of his while the other brushed over your cheek.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered shakily. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows.

“Understand what?”

“Why did she find me?” You paused to take a few deep breaths, hiding in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck. “I thought she was dead. If she hated me that much, why would she reconnect with me?”

“I don’t know, tiny,” Yunho sighed.

“But we’re gonna fucking find out,” Wooyoung seethed. “Don’t give me that look, Jisung. We can’t just let this go.”

“Um, Y/N?” Hyunjin interrupted before an argument could break out. You looked over to him, where he sat with Felix’s head on his lap. “Is Felix gonna be okay?”

“Uhh,” you trailed off as you pushed through your daze. “If she used the same drug on him as she did with me, he’ll be fine. He should wake up in an hour.”

“And if it wasn’t the same one?” Yeosang asked.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as a reply. Your answer was unsatisfying, and those of you still in the room fell to silence once again.

In Chan and Hongjoong’s shared office, the four eldest stood in the middle of the room with Minho pacing by the couch. Chan covered his mouth with his hand in his deep, racing thoughts.

“I don’t get it,” Seonghwa spoke up first. “We haven’t had any issues with Garrett’s men after our initial run-in with them. What changed?”

“I didn’t see Garrett tonight,” Hongjoong noted. “This group either went rogue or were sent by him.”

“But why?! Why now, after weeks of radio silence?” Minho ranted, roughly dragging his hands down his face.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense,” Hongjoong sighed.

“It felt targeted,” Chris stated, eyes still unfocused as he tried to rationalize what happened. “There’s no way Grace found us by coincidence. She was looking for Y/N.”

“That doesn’t make sense either,” Hongjoong scoffed, poking his tongue into his cheek. “If she had just let Y/N think she was dead, Grace would have never had to talk or even see her again.”

“And yet she went out of her way to find Y/N,” Seonghwa muttered.

“Right now, we have more questions than answers,” Chan said while shaking his head. “I don’t know how we’re gonna do it, but we need to figure out their game plan.”

“We could do another recon mission?”

“No,” Hongjoong shot down Minho’s suggestion. “It was dangerous enough getting as close as we did last time. I doubt we’ll be able to get any useful information while staying hidden.”

“We’ll have to ask everyone else if they have any ideas,” Chan concluded. “But not tonight. Let them calm down first.” The other three nodded in agreement, then all four of them returned to the main room, where they joined the large huddle surrounding you and Felix.

No one slept for the rest of the night. Every time someone drifted off, they were quickly jolted awake with flashes of guns in their faces and the fear in your voice. Dawn approached slowly, but soon enough the first rays of sunlight filtered through the wooden boards covering the windows. A sudden, loud knock on the back door sent a wave of panic over the youngest members of the group. Chan, Changbin, and San leapt to their feet, having already been on high alert. They rushed down the hall with Hongjoong and Mingi quickly following. Chan and Hongjoong each grabbed a handgun, stepping outside after Changbin and San. The latter pair stood in front of the door, arms crossed, while their leaders addressed three men a few yards away.

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Chris demanded, aiming at the youngest of the three strangers. They immediately held their hands up in surrender.

“We ain’t here for trouble,” one of the older men assured. “My name’s Anthony, that’s Ken and Thomas. We were part of Garrett’s camp–”

“Fuck off, your group has already fucked with us enough,” Hongjoong sneered, making Anthony roll his eyes.

“If you let me fuckin’ finish, we,” Anthony paused as Ken placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Cool it, Tony. We know what the others did, but we had no part in it,” Ken explained calmly. “Garrett and I were friends before some of y’all were even born. He never woulda allowed an attack like that.”

“Yeah? So who did?” Hongjoong questioned. His steely glare cut into them, and Thomas shifted anxiously while watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“Shane. He’s the lunatic wearing the necklace made of teeth,” Anthony interjected. “That son of a bitch killed Garrett and made himself leader.”

“You gonna blame the cannibalism on Shane, too?” Hongjoong continued sarcastically.

“That was on Garrett. I never agreed with it, but he’s a stubborn asshole when he wants to be. He was convinced that it was the only way to survive,” Ken admitted.

“Great, they’re both insane!”

“Watch it, boy,” Anthony growled. Hongjoong ground his teeth, ready to lash out, but paused at the tears gathering in the older man’s eyes. “Garrett was a good man. He helped me through the lowest part of my life.”

“And Shane used to be a good kid. Garrett treated him like his own son,” Ken recalled sadly. “He changed when he brought a new girl to camp a couple months ago.”

“Grace,” Chan sighed and lowered his gun slightly.

“If anyone’s a fuckin’ lunatic, it’s that girl,” Ken shuddered. “I’ve never met someone with so much hatred in their heart.” 

“Her smile is creepy as hell, man,” Anthony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Is there a point to this conversation or are you just here to gossip?” Hongjoong asked sarcastically. “We already know about Grace.”

“But you don’t know what her and Shane are plannin’ to do to y’all next,” Anthony warned. The leaders shared a look before turning back to the trio.

“You can relax,” Chris handed his gun off to San with Hongjoong doing the same with Changbin. Anthony dropped his hands to his sides, encouraging Ken and Thomas to shove their hands in their pockets. “We’re staying out here to talk. If you try anything, they will not hesitate.”

“Shane has been lettin’ Thomas sit in on the older boys’ meetin’s.” Anthony turned to the nervous young man. 

“Go on, tell ‘em.” Ken squeezed his shoulder affectionately. Thomas took a deep breath before starting.

“W-Well, Grace is actually the one that leads the meetings,” he stammered, keeping his eyes on the ground by Chan’s feet. “I hate her. I hate that she made Shane so violent, but I’ve been too scared to say anythin’ until now. I- I can’t just let this one slide.”

“Get to the point,” Hongjoong ordered.

“Her plan. What she wants to do to y’all is vile, and disgusting, and just inhumane. Shane’s been gathering biters in an empty pool at one of the houses on the outskirts of town,” Thomas quickly explained. “He’s plannin’ to lead the biters to y’all. He’s got a big speaker set up in his truck and he’s gonna blast music to bring the biters here.”

“What, does he expect us to run?” Hongjoong scoffed. “Walkers can’t get in, and neither can the living unless we let them in or they manage to break through the windows. Either way, we’ll know they’re there.”

“He’s got a way to break through the windows,” Thomas grimaced at San’s glare.

“And? Like I said–”

“The dumb bastard got his hands on a goddamn grenade,” Anthony cut him off. “You’ll definitely know he’s there, but not until there’s a fuckin’ hole in your wall.” Chan crossed his arms while Hongjoong’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

“So he’s gonna force us to run. What then? Kill us? Let the walkers take care of us for him?” Chan questioned, looking pointedly at Thomas.

“No,” he shook his head rapidly. “He’ll leave any of y’all that are immobilized, but he’s gonna take the rest as prisoner.”

“And because of Grace, he’s hellbent on gettin’ Y/N out alive,” Ken noted.

“What’s his plan once he has us?” Chan’s forehead creased in concern. 

“He don’t have one, Grace does,” Thomas replied. “She wants to make–” He cut himself off with a gag. “I c-can’t. Ken, please.”

“‘S alright, Thomas,” Ken reassured him with a pat between his shoulder blades. “She’s gonna start by makin’ any survivors from the biter ambush watch the men at camp do whatever they want to Y/N.”

“What the hell does that mean?” San snapped from his place next to the door. Ken looked at him with exhaustion clear on his face.

“It means exactly what you think it means.”

“That’s not even the worst part,” Thomas mumbled behind his hand.

“How the fuck does it get worse?” Changbin groaned, tilting his head back to rest on the wall. 

“Cus once she decides y’all are broken enough, Grace is gonna make Y/N watch Shane kill y’all,” Ken finished with a harsh sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“What is she going to do to Y/N?” Hongjoong asked in a strained whisper.

“I don’t know,” Thomas huffed through his nose. “That’s the one thing she wouldn’t tell anyone, not even Shane.”

“Why are you telling us all of this? What’s in it for you?” Chan narrowed his eyes at the trio.

“We ain’t lookin’ to join your group,” Anthony stated. “We’re goin’ out on our own.”

“I had to say something,” Thomas confessed. “I don’t care what might’ve happened between Grace and Y/N, but no one deserves to go through that.”

“Right,” Chris faltered momentarily. “Uh, thanks for the warning, I guess. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do.”

“My advice? Leave while you still can,” Anthony shrugged before leading Ken and Thomas away from the office building. The leaders watched the trio walk away until they turned down an alley, disappearing from sight. Mingi opened the door, poking his head out.

“Everyone’s getting antsy,” he said while glancing nervously between the range of emotions showing on his friends’ faces. They all went inside, locking the door behind them. All attention was on Chan when they walked into the main room.

“That was three men from Garrett’s group. Shane killed Garrett, and now he and Grace are running the camp,” the eldest explained. “They’re gonna attack again, and this time they want to make us suffer.”

“How?” Yunho asked, eyebrows pinching together.

“You don’t want to know,” Changbin grunted as he collapsed against the wall next to San, sliding down to rest his head on the older boy’s shoulder.

“God, I fucking hate that I have to say this,” Chris exhaled roughly, covering his eyes with his hand to hide the tears gathering on his lash line. “We can’t stay here.”

“What?!” Jisung shouted, startling you from your light slumber.

“Hm? What’s goin’ on?” You slurred, rubbing your eyes to clear away the remnants of sleep.

“We’re leaving,” Yunho whispered in disbelief. You sat upright, eyes wide.

“Why?!”

“Grace is fucking psychotic,” Hongjoong sneered. “She’s got a twisted plan for us, for you.”

“I can’t think of any other way out of this,” Chan admitted quietly. “They have us outnumbered and out-gunned.” You clenched your jaw as you stared up at them, clearing your throat before speaking.

“When do we leave?”

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[aerixfixoff]

Einen verloren VII

Chapter 7: The Chains of truth

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Mingi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Yandere, Horror, Slight Humor, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, implied violence, kidnapping, and controlling behavior.

Word Count: 1,485

Author’s Note: this story isn’t gonna have a happy ending. Lmao but enjoy this chapter!

———————————————————————-

The mansion was quiet. Every passing day felt like glass breaking slightly, but quickly. The trade date had approached. You and Natty had made your plan, but something was uncertain. The man you had trusted this whole time, Choi San, rubbed you wrongly. There was something about the way he moved lately, the silence in his eyes, the shift in his energy that made your skin crawl. Before the day of the trade, you did heavy research obsessively, endlessly as if the answers were hiding just behind your screen.

Clicks echoed through the room. You found yourself on a page dedicated to CȘ the missing ATEEZ member. Who is CȘ? The name looped in your mind like a haunting melody. Who was he? Just as you were about to piece it all together, a knock interrupted the storm in your head.

“Y/n,” Mingi called. His voice was softer than usual, careful. Ever since the argument you two had, you’d been avoiding him like the plague. You hated the way he made you feel

raw, vulnerable, exposed. “Y/n,” he said again, gentler this time. His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you stood up to get the door, feeling the weight of everything pressing against your chest.

“Y/n,” Mingi whispered breathlessly when he saw you. His eyes drank you in like a man who had just found his light in the middle of a pitch-black world. You stared back, your gaze searching for something anything that made sense.

The argument still echoed in your memory. The words, the fury, the pain. Everything he had said that night had you questioning your entire plan. He had looked at you with those glassy eyes full of heartbreak and said things no one else dared to. He made you wonder if vengeance was worth the price. Was this the only right way to get back at him? And still, despite everything, he loved you like no other. He would drop the world at your feet in a second no matter what you’d done to him or what you planned to do. He was a constant in a world full of ghosts.

“Y/n,” he said again, stepping closer, his hand cupping your face with trembling fingers. “What’s on your mind, my love?” he cooed. His voice was velvet, but his touch shook.

To be honest, you were in an endless war internally and externally. Your mind screamed at you to drop it all, to run from this chaos. It warned that nothing good would come from continuing this path. But your heart hesitated. It ached with the need for justice for truth. It whispered that justice would be served to those who deserved it, even if it came at a cost.

But the question remained Would you forgive him, or would you destroy him?

He called you his wife with no explanation. It wasn’t just a pet name. He spoke it like a vow, like a truth he held on to. You were trying to accept the harsh reality you had buried deep inside. The first month he found you again, he had proposed. You said yes. You didn’t think much of it at the time figuring it was impulsive, meaningless, something that would fade away. But you were mistaken.

The maids and servants whispered about your upcoming wedding. Mingi had kept it hidden from you. He claimed it was a “surprise,” something beautiful to look forward to. But you dreaded it. Every single day.

“Tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours,” Mingi said again. His voice gently pulled you back from the spiral of your thoughts. Now, you were on his lap, your body instinctively leaning into him, a comfort you weren’t sure you deserved. His hand slithered to your waist, rubbing gentle circles. His voice turned into soft murmurs against your ear sweet nothings, fragments of promises, half-formed confessions. Things you couldn’t quite understand.

Until you did.

Then you felt something sharp in your neck.

The mansion was quiet again. Every passing second felt like glass breaking slightly but quickly. The trade date had approached. You and Natty had made your plan. But something was wrong. No something was wrong. Heavenly wrong.

What the fuck.

You were in a dark room. Cold. Damp. The silence was so loud it was maddening. You were tied up in chains, the metal biting into your skin. Next to you fucking Natty. Beaten. Blood dripping down her forehead. Her breath ragged. You felt a scream building in your throat, but it never came out. Your eyes looked around the room for the man responsible. Of course. It was always going to be him.

You struggled against the chains, every movement sending waves of pain through your limbs. Then, a voice.

“Don’t try to struggle your way out. The chains only get tighter,” someone said. A shadow emerged, sitting to your left. The second you saw him, your blood ran cold.

Wooyoung.

ATEEZ’s notorious. One of the best tricksters and fighters. He was lethal. Charming on the outside, but a storm on the inside. He was known for luring people in soft smiles, playful laughter then ending them before they realized what happened. Every move he made was deliberate, precise.

“You know, Y/n, I never understood the hype about you,” he said, standing slowly, slinking into your view. His eyes gleamed with curiosity. “But oh, now I do. You’re so interesting. So intelligent.” He knelt down, meeting your eyes. There was something dark swimming in his gaze.

“God knows what Mingi’s gonna do to you. But one thing’s for sure your buddy over there isn’t making it out alive.” He tilted his head toward Natty, his lips curling into a smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

Then he left. No more words. Just that bone chilling smile.

You were shaking. What were you going to do now? The trade was in five hours. They planned to keep you here until it ended. But now, you realized something else the trade wasn’t just about some document. Natty had told you that. She had tried to warn you. And now, you had to do something.

You spotted something sharp in the corner. Your heart raced. Without thinking, you dragged your chained hands toward it. You began to smash. And smash. And smash until the chains cracked into pieces.

You rushed to Natty. Her body was barely responsive, but her eyes opened slowly.

“Y/n,” she croaked. “I should’ve told you everything.”

“Now you can.”

“Okay, Y/n. Listen carefully,” she said, each word costing her effort. “Choi San isn’t who you think he is. And when I say this, I mean it all. Only one of us is going to walk out of here alive. And it’s not going to be me.” Tears slipped from her eyes.

“Take this map. Go to the star marked on it. You’ll find the document there. It holds everything. Everyone involved in this you can expose them all. Bring justice.”

“This is bigger than you think,” she continued.

She reached into her coat, pulling out a rusted piece of paper.

“When you reach intersection 67, you’ll find a man called Keeho. Give him this for me.” She smiled. A weak, sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She handed you an envelope.

Then she looked at you, her gaze holding one final message.

“Go, Y/n. Go.”

Her hand pressed against your heart, and that was it. Tears blurred your vision as you gave her one last hug one filled with desperation and pain.

And then you left.

Chapter 8>

© Aerixfixoff 2025 – All rights reserved. Please don’t copy, edit, repost, or translate my work. Respect goes both ways!

[reds-skull]

Bringer of Demise - Chapter 1

[MAKAROV'S FATE COMIC] [AO3]

When I say I've been thinking about this ever since finishing part 1...

I'm very excited to start a new multi-chapter story, doubly so with revenant AU! I'm not sure how long this will be, but I have a feeling it will be longer than part 1 :)

For those that skipped the side-stories, some details in this chapter refer to them, they're not a must-read to understand, but I heavily encourage it! You're also welcome to read the comic, it shows Makarov and Fate's reactions to the events of part 1...

Now, before I start rambling again... Chapter 1: The Labyrinthine Design of Fate

He always had a sort of scorching at his chest. A never-ending flame, bugs beneath his skin. As if he was burning alive.

As if he never escaped his self-made grave.

Even now, he could feel it, little legs of burning moths climbing up and down his arms, an overwhelming sensation that hasn’t left him in six years-

Except… There, a hand slides over his. Cool, a running river between his fingers. A breath of the void in a world so loud.

Soap smiles. Simon.

“Finally awake, Johnny?”

He buries his face into the pillow, hiding his growing grin. The hand continues to hold his, and that’s all the reasons he needs to continue sleeping.

“Gonna be like that, hm?” the voice hums thoughtfully, “I went to a zoo last month. Wouldn’t recommend, all they had was some dog.”

Soap frowns. He isn’t going to…

“It was a shitzu.”

He groans. “Ye didn’t…” Soap cracks open an eye, staring unimpressed at Simon’s crinkling eyes.

Simon pulls at his hand, making him sit up, “should be honored you’re waking up to my wonderful jokes.” he lets go of him, turning back to his desk. Soap notices the half-filled reports covering it.

Even several weeks later, the 141 is practically sinking under the mountain of paperwork that dropped on them as soon as they returned to the UK.

Soap flops back onto the bed, “rather be sleepin’ than hearing that shite.” Simon doesn’t give him a response, his pen gliding once again on the paper. “Is this one above my clearance as well?”

“No. Just forms to apply for changes in our Revenant documents, again.”

“You’d think they’d figure it out by now…” he turns to stare at the ceiling, an odd feeling in his chest.

The day they met… Lumity, Soap was ecstatic. It was a proof of his and Simon’s eternal connection, breaking the final barrier between them, showing that even the Reapers themselves couldn’t keep them apart.

He’s still glad of that, mind. He would never ask to be separated from Simon. But…

But it’s not something they could hide. As much as Price and Laswell cover for them, to conceal the existence of a whole new Reaper was beyond them.

It’s that uncertainty that scares him. The higher-ups haven’t done anything with them yet, the whole taskforce grounded until the dust settles, but Soap is sure it won’t pass by quietly.

When it comes to him, nothing ever does, it seems.

He turns his head to stare at Simon again. The man he was fated to kill. The way he looks when they’re like this, hidden away from the world and the realms beyond it, when they’re just Johnny and Simon, never stops to mesmerize him. He thinks, if they were perhaps a little different, maybe this would’ve been permanent.

Then again, were they any different, they’d likely be dead by now.

The question ‘why did it choose me?’ is usually screamed in his mind when phantom blood covers his hands, when the answering thought is often ‘it shouldn’t have’. Soap asks himself again, but with curiosity.

How much does Fate know?

“You’re not sleeping again, are you?” Simon asks with a smile in his voice.

Soap gets up, stretching his back, “nothin’ else better to do, is there?”

“Could always help me with reports.”

He side-eyes Simon, “like I said, nothing better to do.”

Simon scoffs, and Soap opens his mouth to goad him to another round of bickering, when a sort of buzzing goes up his spine. Simon’s shuddering back tells him he felt it as well.

“Our Reapers-” Simon locks eyes with him, when the world melts away.

When Soap comes to, the realm is dark. Cold. Words he’d never use to describe his Reaper.

Speaking of… where are they?

“S-Simon?” Soap looks around, finding him a few paces away, his head tilted up. His brows furrow, and he follows his line of sight.

Soap stumbles back, his heart pounding, “what- Buanaiche…?”

Lumity hangs above them, their body twisted, features broken by dark red. Pulled in different directions by the strings, it is as if something was trying to rip each limb apart, as if to separate… Ladder-like patterns and moths weave around the trapped being, light itself bound by crimson lines.

“What happened to you, Reaper?” Simon whispers, fear evident in his voice.

“FATE…… The invader… IT DARED ENTER OUR REALM…”

“Fate did this to you?” Soap’s eyes follow the red strings, where they disappear in the dark fog of Lumity’s realm.

Lumity’s head twitches, and gleaming white light drips from their neck. Soap asks himself, absentmindedly, if Reapers can even feel pain.

“LISTEN CLOSELY REVENANTS… Fate is plotting against us… Against your allies…”

A deafening sound cracks through the still air, making both Soap and Simon clutch at their ears. One of the strings snaps, only to loop back around one of Lumity’s many arms.

“A man with two faces will approach you… He will be an agent of Fate… YOU MUSTN’T FOLLOW HIM.”

“B-Buanaiche…” Soap winces when Lumity lets out a sound no words in any human language can describe, “what is Fate doing to you?”

“I will not bow down to it… I WILL NEVER BOW DOWN TO IT… This is nothing but a show… A petty show…”

Simon pulls at his sleeve, and takes his left hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Be vigilant, revenants… Fate is not alone…

IT IS NOT ONLY US THAT GAZE UPON YOU NOW…”

Before Soap could take another breath, Lumity’s realm swirls, and the only thing left is that which holds his hand, shaking with the same terror as him.

They collapse to the floor, Soap’s breath hitching in his throat. Simon grunts, bringing a hand to his ear to check if it’s bleeding. He looks up at him, and shakes his head minutely.

“We…” Simon starts, swallowing thickly, “we need to find Price and Gaz.”

Soap nods, pushing himself up to stand on numb legs. His mind feels like it’s pulled apart like his Reapers, thoughts forming only to dissipate.

He follows Ghost out of his barracks, his steps loud and sure, even if his fists still tremble at his sides. The hallways are silent, most soldiers out training at these hours. Ghost directs them towards the fields now, where Gaz should be supervising recruits.

As they get closer, a few of them run into the building, their faces red with exertion and heads swiveling around. 

Soap spots Cooper, one of the FNGs he often trains, and calls out to him, “what’s going on with you lot? Why are ye not in drills?”

“Sergeant MacTavish! Lieutenant!” Cooper shouts, the words leaving his mouth in one hurried breath, “They- the revenants on base, they’re all-”

Another recruit butts in, “they all just stopped moving, they’re not reacting to anything!”

Ghost scoffs, pushing between the soldiers to get to the doors. The rookies snap their mouths shut, staring with wide eyes at them as they exit to the training grounds.

Soap didn’t want to believe them, hoping to dismiss their worry off when seeing it himself, but it was exactly as they said.

Most soldiers are moving, gathered around still figures. He can see Gaz from here, his face slack. The few other revenants on base, the majority of them belonging to the Reaper of Flesh, are as motionless as him. 

“They’re all…” Soap mutters.

Ghost’s eyes narrow, “in their Reaper’s realm.”

“Think Fate got them too?” Soap walks towards Gaz, Ghost right behind him.

The recruits surrounding Kyle part for them, Ghost glaring at the ones that tried to shake Gaz, “no, but it can’t be a coincidence.”

Gaz stares at the horizon unblinking. The sight unnerves Soap, even if he knows he looks exactly like that when his Reaper summons him. He can’t recall if he’s ever seen a revenant in this state.

A movement catches his attention, and Soap takes a step back when Gaz’s hands start twitching, his body floating a few inches off the ground, muscles taut. One soldier from the small crowd around them asks, “i-is that normal?”

A moment later, as if an invisible cable snapped, Gaz falls to the ground, knocking the hat off his head trying to dig his fingers into his scalp.

Soap instantly crouches in front of him, noticing in his periphery how the rest of the revenants come to as well, “Gaz? Ye alright?”

Ghost snatches his hand when he goes to place it on Gaz’s shivering shoulder, and addresses Kyle, “Garrick, give me sitrep.”

Gaz shakes his head, a few muted sobs escaping him. “My… My Reaper…” he heaves, “it told me to c-choose.”

“Choose?” Soap prompts him.

“Between Fate and Lumity. Between Makarov… and you.” Kyle finally looks up, his eyes red and tearful, pupil blown, “I chose you. I would never- but my Reaper…” his face contorts, “it was… furious, or not- I don’t know-” he lets out a frustrated huff, “all I know, it wasn’t happy with my choice.”

Ghost offers Gaz a hand, and helps him up. He then turns to the rest of the recruits and snarls, “what are you standing ‘ere for? Get the fuck out of my sight!”

Their little crowd disperses like a flock of birds. Soap picks up Gaz’s baseball cap, brushing the dirt off and handing it to him, “the Reaper of Pull never did like Destruction… You think that’s what the other revenants were asked?” he asks Ghost.

Ghost lets go of Kyle, making sure he can stand by himself, “... Price knows more about how Fate operates than anyone else on base.”

Price’s thoughts leak far before his office even comes into view. They’re nothing but a jumbled mess of images and emotions, and none of them make the rising dread within Soap lessen.

Gaz hasn’t stopped shaking, his steps heavier, like he’s pushing himself towards the earth in an attempt to stay steady. They haven’t spoken a word on the way here, Ghost’s eyes darting around tensely.

Soap himself can’t make heads or tails from this. That buzzing sensation under his skin, that usually forebodes his Reaper pulling him to its realm, hasn’t left. His fingers burn brighter, flames trailing far behind him as they walk.

Ghost doesn’t bother knocking, swinging the door to Price’s office wide open and ushering Soap and Gaz inside before locking it behind them.

Soap looks at their Captain for a few moments, his head in his hands.

“... Price?” Kyle is the first to break the silence. Price lets out a shuddering sigh, and looks up.

The Captain removes his hat, gripping it tightly until his knuckles turn white, “it asked you to choose, I presume?”

Gaz nods, “Mine did, yeah, but… I don’t know about Ghost and Soap-”

“No.” Price cuts him off, tone devoid of any emotion. “Lumity isn’t in a position to ask, are they?” he studies them with narrowed eyes.

Soap stares back, feeling Price’s mind prob at his, picking apart what he saw in Lumity’s realm, what they told them. The warnings, Fate’s strings wrapping around light like spiderwebs.

“I met Makarov once, over a decade ago.” Price explains as he retreats from Soap’s thoughts, “we didn’t know it was him, at the time. But he knew we were coming.”

“He showed me what his powers can do, a fraction of his Reaper’s. In all my years, I’ve never read a mind quite like his.”

“What did you see?” Soap can’t help but ask, fear warring with curiosity. Makarov is an enigma, one they only know one thing about.

The Revenant of Fate is always several steps ahead.

Price closes his eyes, hands coming up to message his head, “he showed me my own fate. Showed me people I haven’t even met yet, dead at my feet. We were lucky, according to my Reaper, until now. Fate didn’t have much interest in Humanity.”

Something dreadful seeps into his gut, and Price doesn’t open his mouth when the next words appear in their brains.

“Now, it saw something that caught its attention.”

“IT IS NOT ONLY US THAT GAZE UPON YOU NOW”

… What have they done…?

Price fills Gaz in, about Lumity’s warning. They speak among themselves in hushed voices, debating on who could possibly be a traitor, what can be done to weed them out. Talking aimlessly, as they don’t know enough about the situation to figure anything out yet. Anything is better than the suffocating silence, though.

Soap found himself staring at the grout lines of the tiled floor, thoughts such a jumbled mess even Price stirs clear from his mind. Ghost isn’t deterred, however, and has been a constant presence by his side. As he has been, for the last few months.

Soap thinks he would’ve had an easier time accepting this if he was the one destined to die. But Ghost? He’d never regret not killing him.

It angers him, to the point he has to keep his entire focus on minimizing his flames - who gave Fate the right to decide who he kills?

How much power does Fate hold? Is it the one that decided who becomes a revenant, and who doesn’t?

If Fate can capture a Reaper, there’s no limit to what it can do to them.

Cool fingers wrap around his left hand, white fire heedless of the scarred skin. Soap looks up at Ghost, humming a question.

“Remember our promise.” is all Ghost says, and somehow that’s all Soap needs to take a mental step back, and breathe in deeply.

Soap echoes his words from weeks ago now, spoken under the warm glow of a fancy restaurant, with the same hand in his.

“Together.”

They hear a throat clearing after a few minutes, Price motioning for them to sit next to his desk.

“Before… This happened, I was planning on notifying you of something.” Price starts, his eyes locked onto Ghost’s, “Laswell and the higher-ups consulted Doctor Novikov about Lumity, and have come into the conclusion you two need to redo your revenant tests.”

Ghost scoffs, leaning back in his chair to sneer, “what is he going to tell us that we don’t already know? He didn’t know a bloody thing about Void before it merged, doubt he has any new revelations he could share with us.”

The Captain sighs heavily, and Soap gets the feeling this isn’t the first time a conversation of this sort happens between these two, “it’s part of the protocol, Simon. Or at least as much protocol that can be salvaged in your case.”

Soap leans in to half-whisper in Gaz’s ear, “ye know this… Novikov? The fuck’s he a doctor fer?”

Gaz blinks at him for a second, before reeling back, “you- you don’t know Novikov??”

“No???” Soap frowns, turning around to see Ghost and Price stopped arguing. “How do ye know him?”

“He’s been the head Spiritulogist of the SAS for the last… what was it, ten years, Price?”

“Over a decade, been here since before I was Reaped.” Price says incredulously, “I know your file’s been redacted to hell and back son, but don’t tell me you never even been through your basic revenant testing?”

Soap shakes his head, “they never sent anyone to examine me… I assumed they didn’t need to check my limits, with…” the words die on his tongue, and Price redirects his thoughts before they can go down a dark path.

“I worked with Novikov for as long as I’ve been a revenant. He’s good at what he does.” the Captain says, ignoring Ghost’s growl.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never met a Spiritulogist, mate.” Gaz gently elbows him with a small grin.

Soap sneaks another glance at Ghost, noting his stormy eyes, before answering, “I did, never about my own powers. Don’t think any o’ them had clearance.”

Ghost murmurs, “saved you several headaches.”

“Well,” Price slaps his knees, getting up from his chair, “there’s always a first for everything. Novikov got cleared by Laswell, so I assume he has enough information to assess you. He’s due to arrive at any moment, let’s take it to the tarmac.”

They follow him out of the office, Ghost walking ahead, irritation practically fuming out of him. Whatever past this Novikov has with Simon, it can’t be good. Then again, Ghost seems to dislike him more based on his profession, than the man himself.

The tarmac isn’t as hectic as it usually is. Soap attributes that to the earlier revenant incident, he personally knows at least three technicians bearing the revenant status working here. There are some gruesome ways to die dealing with aircrafts, that’s for certain. He gets reminded that of the day Gaz told him the story about his Reaping.

Soap hated the blank stare he had back then, guilt a mirror image of his own. Felt an instant connection to him, and hypocritically wanted to tell him he has nothing to be guilty of. Well, maybe not so hypocritically. Gaz would never do what he did.

The helo carrying Novikov has already started descending by the time they arrive. Ghost is a menacing shadow at his side, anger not subsiding in the short walk to here. Soap had to stop himself from asking about it multiple times. He doesn’t think he’ll get more than a grunt from Ghost at this state.

Price approaches the helo as it lands, probably greeting Novikov with his powers. When the loading ramp lowers, Soap watches a short, plump man walk down to shake hands with the Captain.

The first thing Soap clocks in from the man is that he has never been in an active war zone. There’s a lack of awareness the Doctor emanates, his focus not straying from the person in front of him, despite being surrounded by several SAS soldiers, and one very disgruntled, skull-faced revenant.

Price eventually returned to them with Novikov and several other people Soap can only assume are his assistants. Ghost steps closer to him, practically gluing himself to Soap’s side. He leans in to nudge his arm, silently asking him to relax, if only for a moment.

“Lieutenant Ghost, Sergeant Garrick, it is good to see you.” Novikov greets, Gaz reaching to shake his hand. The Doctor offers it to Ghost as well, but all the masked man does is glare at him.

Novikov seems undeterred by the Lieutenant’s hostility, and turns to Soap, “Sergeant John MacTavish,” Soap finally places his accent as Russian, “I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted yet.”

Soap shakes his right hand in the air, momentarily extinguishing its flames, before shaking the Doctor’s hand, “we haven’t.”

Novikov’s grip tightens, and he lets go of Soap’s hand, “I will be honored to be the one to test your powers for the first time, Sergeant. It is not common for revenants to skip those, as you can imagine.”

There’s an almost bitter note to his last sentence. Soap doesn’t like that he feels like Novikov has been waiting for this opportunity for a long, long time.

The words of Lumity have been etched to his heart, burned a hole in his consciousness, began a downward spiral nothing, not even the memory of Ghost’s hand in his, can stop.

Soap watches the Doctor leave, not before a promise to test them first thing in the morning, tomorrow, and he wonders.

He wonders if this, too, is part of the labyrinthine design of Fate.

[bridgyrose]

Ladybug week day 6: Childhood AU

Ruby quietly climbed out of her bedroom window, careful to make as little noise as she could as she dropped to the ground. She fussed with the pins that kept her ears down in her hair to make sure they were hidden before pulling the hood of her cloak over. Then, she checked the bag that hung on her shoulder to make sure her White Fang mask was with her and safe. Tonight was going to be her first dust raid and she wanted to make sure she had everything she needed for it. 

She took a deep breath, turned to look at the house one last time, and then started to make her way to take the last ferry of the night. If everything went well, she’d be back on the first ferry to Patch and be home just before her dad woke up. Though, if he found out she was out-

“So you did decide to come,” Blake said with a smile as she dropped out of a tree. “Adam was thinking you were gonna chicken out.” 

“I wasnt going to chicken out,” Ruby lied as she looked away. The thought of staying home did cross her mind more than once, though the idea of disappointing Blake seemed worse than disappointing her dad. “I-I just… needed to..  wait until I wasnt going to get caught sneaking out.” 

“You could always run away,” Adam said as he walked over, almost glaring at Ruby from under his mask. “Then we wont have to be late waiting for you.” 

“And now she’s here so we can go.” Blake sighed and started to make her way to the ferry. “And then we can fill her in with the plan.” 

“Fine. But if she slows us down, she’s out.” 

Ruby slowly followed behind Adam and Blake as she tried to listen to them. Most of the words almost seemed muffled to her as she lost focus on what was being said, only able to focus on Blake. She couldnt help but wonder what life would’ve been like if Blake hadnt saved her, given her a reason to join the White Fang. She was tired of being beat for being a faunus, angry that her dad made her hide her trait anytime she went out, always treated like she was destined for nothing more than a life of hard labor. And yet, when she was with Blake, everything felt like it was going to work out. That no matter what they did, it’ll all be worth it.

“Are you going to answer him?” Blake asked. 

Ruby nearly stopped in her tracks when she realized that Blake had gotten right next to her. “I-I didnt… what was the question?” 

“I asked if you’re sure you want to do this,” Adam repeated, annoyed. “Once you step onto the ferry, there’s no turning back.” 

Ruby nodded, her heart almost thumping in her chest when she saw Blake give her a smile. “Yes! I want to do this more than anything!” 

Adam smirked and motioned for Ruby and Blake to follow him. “Then dont slow us down.” 

Ruby stepped onto the ferry with Blake and Adam, straying towards the edge as she looked back towards her home. Her dad and Yang still hadnt noticed she’d left for the night, which meant she was almost in the clear. Once she reached Vale, as long as she got back before either of them woke up, then she wouldnt have to come up with some sort of excuse as to why she was out. 

“Everything okay?” Blake asked as she moved next to her. “You’ve been quiet ever since you boarded.” 

“Just trying to figure out what to tell Dad and Yang if they ask.” 

“You’re planning on going back to them?” 

“Of course. Why wouldnt I?” 

Blake gently pulled Ruby’s hood down and frowned. “Because they make you hide who you are. I thought you wanted to be yourself.” 

Ruby wanted to pull her hood back up, but she knew Blake was right. Of course she wanted to be more herself, seeing Blake keep her own ears out made her long to be able to do the same. She slowly pulled the pins that held her ears down to let them up. “Where else would I go?” 

“You can come home with us,” Blake suggested. “Its just a small camp right now-” 

“We cant afford to bring another kid along!” Adam snapped. “We’re running low on supplies as it is, another mouth to feed is only going to cause us problems.” 

“I-I’ve been training to be a huntress.” Ruby fidgeted with the pins she held as she tried to look more confident. “I dont have my own weapon yet, Dad wont let me have one for another year, but I can make myself useful!” 

Adam paused for a moment as if he was thinking about it. “If you survive the raid tonight, then we’ll take you back.” 

Ruby let out a silent breath as Adam turned and walked to the other side of the ferry. She wasnt sure why her heart felt like it was pounding in her chest or why her stomach suddenly felt like it was in knots about being herself. But if Blake was sure this was the best way, then she had to know what she was talking about. 

Blake gave Ruby a playful hit on her shoulder and smiled. “Stay close to me and I’ll make sure you’re safe.” 

[fluentmoviequoter]

Sunshine in the Darkness (II)

Summary: After Dalton befriends shy!reader at the frat party, he promises to tell her something tomorrow, and tomorrow has finally come. 1.5k+ words.

Warnings: tons of fluff, brief mention of the events of Insidious: The Red Door, Chris once again interrupts, I couldn't decide where it should end so I added an extra scene

A/N: Here is part 2! Thank you for all the love on part 1! I edited and proofread but please let me know if I missed anything and what you think! Hope you enjoy! :)

Part 1

It has been several days of silence from Dalton. You begin to think that maybe he got tired of carrying the conversation and dealing with the wax and wane of your shyness around him. Every time your mind wanders to him, you think about your last conversation and wonder what he had been planning to tell you tomorrow and if tomorrow will ever come.

As you exit your last class for the day, you get a text from Dalton. The text is just a location and a time, with no context. You return to your dorm and freshen up before you follow the directions to the hidden spot Dalton had shared. You enter the nearly invisible garden entrance, unsure what to do next.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

You look up, and your eyes widen as Dalton stands in the center of the secluded garden, holding a large bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. The dark circles under his eyes tell you he’s tired, but his smile says he doesn’t care, especially now that he sees you. Dalton adjusts his grip, holding the flowers and chocolates in one hand as he extends his other hand to you. You take it, eyes on the flowers and feeling shyer than you ever remember.

“You gonna talk to me?” Dalton asks, playfully nudging your chin with your joined hands.

“No,” you whisper honestly.

Dalton laughs so hard that he bends backward and unintentionally pulls you closer.

“Do you know what today is?” he asks after he rights himself, smiling at you.

“Tomorrow?”

“That’s right. So, ask me your question again.” He pulls you closer as he adds, “If you can.”

“You’re mean,” you mumble, no malice or truth in your words.

“I’m sorry,” Dalton apologizes but doesn’t sound very sorry. “You’re just so cute when you get all shy on me.”

You hide your face in his shoulder, your hand still clinging to his.

“Would flowers and chocolate make you feel better?” he offers.

“You weren’t kidding.” You chuckle as you pull back to glance up at Dalton. “You can be romantic. Even if you do tease me the whole time.”

Dalton smiles as your eyes finally reach his. “Do you want to hear what I meant when I said ‘us,’ or do you want your stuff first?”

You pretend to debate your answer, then take the flowers and chocolate and set them gently on the ground beside your feet. Your hand never leaves Dalton’s. His smile has grown exponentially in the few minutes since you arrived.

“Tell me about us,” you decide.

Dalton nods, and his free hand hovers beside your waist as he begins speaking. “Last night I told you things about me I’ve never shared. The fear that I felt when I thought I could hurt you was unlike anything I have ever experienced, and I never want to feel it again. So, I should tell you to leave; to run as far away from me as possible and never look back.”

Your face drops a little while your eyes bounce to the garden behind Dalton. His hand finally meets your waist, and you jump, returning your attention to him.

“But I can’t,” he continues, his voice lower than before. “I can’t ask you to leave me because you are pure light, and I can’t imagine going back to the darkness I was surrounded by before you. I told you last night you were the only thing I could think about after I saw you and that’s still true. I think- I think you might have saved my life, Sunshine.”

You stare at Dalton, fighting the urge to hide your face. Instead, you pull your hand from his, trying to ignore the hurt flashing in his eyes. Sending him a small smile, you place your hands on his shoulders and rise to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself against him in the tightest hug you can manage. 

His arms similarly wrap around your waist, squeezing you as he turns slightly to speak in your ear.

“I didn’t even get to the part about how pretty you are,” he whispers.

You attempt to shove him off of you, but he laughs and tightens his grip until you’re putty in his arms.

“If you really liked me you wouldn’t tease me like this,” you argue halfheartedly, relaxing into his grip.

“Bold!” He calls into the empty garden, smiling brightly. “But it’s because I like you so much.”

“Let go. I want my presents,” you demand, pushing against Dalton's chest.

He chuckles and picks the presents up off the ground, handing them to you. You look at the box of chocolates, then hand them back as you pluck the card from the flowers.

“‘Can I make you shy one more time?’” you read. “You think you’re smooth, don’t-“

Dalton cuts you off, taking the flowers and dropping them as he smooths one hand over your jaw while the other grabs your hip and pulls you into him. You stumble slightly and end up against his chest, like at the frat party. The hand on your jaw moves your chin upward, and you barely see Dalton’s eyes before he kisses you.

When his lips touch yours, you understand what he means when he says you are light in the darkness because you have never felt this way. Gathering every ounce of courage, you kiss him back, bringing your hands to rest on his chest. He pulls back and seems to examine your face, though your hands are still on one another.

“I couldn’t. Wouldn’t,” you amend with a shake of your head.

“Wouldn’t what?” Dalton asks, thumb rubbing circles on your waist through the fabric covering it.

“Leave. If you told me to run, I wouldn’t. Because I can’t go back to a life without you either.”

Dalton shakes his head and continues to smile. “You can be really brave when you want to be.”

“Only with you,” you state as you lean closer and rest your head on his chest.

“Can I have another kiss, Sunshine?” Dalton whispers as his hands rub your back.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he repeats incredulously.

You pull back and smile as you poke his chest. “That’s how it feels, Dalton.”

He groans toward the sky, his hands brushing your waist as you step away from him. Before he can tilt his head back down, you do it for him, pushing your fingers into his hair and directing his mouth to yours, pecking it quickly before pulling away and picking up your flowers.

“You’re going to be the end of me, Sunshine.”

As you exit the garden and begin walking down the same path you had taken after the frat party, you are reminded that you and Dalton are not the only people in the world. Before you can make yourself smaller on the sidewalk, Dalton wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. Once you are in the safety of his dorm room, you sit on his chair and look closely at the flowers. Dalton sits on his bed and opens the chocolates before extending them to you. As you raise your eyes to thank him, you see that the painting of the red door has been painted over.

“You did it?” you ask, pointing to the painting with your chin.

He nods. “Thanks to you.”

You shake your head to express your confusion.

“I needed a light to bring me out. Hence, Sunshine.”

You lay the flowers on his desk and take the box of chocolates from him, setting them aside as well. As you approach Dalton's bed, you pull him into a hug. He tugs you down into his lap, pinching your side when you gasp at the movement.

“You know, you never said anything specific; yes or no. Kissed me, sure, but that could mean anything,” Dalton begins an overly dramatic speech, and you press a finger to his lips to stop him.

You nod. “I like you too. But you never asked a specific question.”

“Will you be my sunshine?”

“Technically Sunshine would be a better nickname for someone who was loud and bold and bright,” you state.

 Dalton stares at you for a moment. “You could just stop being shy, I guess. There is no other Sunshine for me.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” you state sarcastically.

He rewards your sarcasm with a kiss, and you consider that maybe you should try to talk back to him more often. You hear the door open and break the kiss, hiding your face in Dalton’s shoulder, which has become a second home.

“Can I help you with something, Chris?” Dalton asks, rubbing your back.

“Uh, no. Sorry for interrupting,” Chris answers.

“Chris.” Dalton stops her before the door closes. “Leave the key.”

You hear the key hit the table before the door closes. Dalton moves his shoulder to encourage you to show your face again. When you show your face, he raises a hand and brushes some of your hair down.

“You shy again?” he murmurs.

You shrug, which he takes as a yes.

“Perfect,” he cheers as he flips you onto your back on his bed and kisses all over your face, leaving no spot untouched or unloved.

As you laugh and try to push him away, Dalton knows that the darkness will never get him again, not while he has you. His Sunshine.

[dixonsgirl93]

i’d love to see some headcannons of how carol would act when finding out you’ve hidden an injury (not a bite tho)

pls and thank you!!

Ooh! I like this. I think something like this would work better as a fic tbh.

~

Hiding an injury from Carol:

You’d received a pretty bad scrape on your thigh from your last run. You’d tried to look after it yourself, washing it with water until it stopped stinging and putting a bandage on it but there was still a slight limp in your walk as the muscles in your leg contracted with each step.

“Hey. You okay?” Carol fell into step with you.

You quickly try to hide the pain from your face and smile at her. “Yeah, I’m doing fine.”

“You sure?” She looked you up and down, probably hoping to find the answer herself.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” You slowed your walking pace, the pain getting harder to hide. It’s then that you realise the cut probably went deeper than you thought. You hadn’t really had a close look at it.

“Y/N, you came back covered in blood.”

“I told you, that was walker blood. I’m fine.”

“It looked fresh.”

You turned to her, frustrated. “Just stop. I said I’m okay.”

You walked away, as quick as your leg would let you and then silently cursed yourself because surly now it was obvious you were limping.

Carol reminded you of your older sister, before you lost her years ago to the dead. Carol was no replacement for her but she had filled a hole in the void of your heart nonetheless.

It even felt like maybe she saw you as a sister too in a way, the way she would berate you for questionable choices or tell you what you’re doing is stupid and dangerous.

You’d gone with a few of the others to a dangerous part of town, overrun with walkers. The group had needed supplies and was putting off this area for as long as they could. Carol insisted she go instead but you were adamant.

In the heat of clearing a path and fighting off a walker, you’d tripped backward over a fallen tree and the splintered wood had gone into your leg.

You didn’t want to prove her right that it was too dangerous.

“Hey! Wait!” Carol caught up to you quickly. She grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “I need you to tell me the truth. What happened?”

Sighing heavily, then put your hand against your thigh. She looked down at your blood-stained jeans and took your arm.

“You’re bleeding through your clothes. How could you be so stupid? You should have gone to the infirmary, get that cleaned up and looked at properly.” Carol’s voice was horribly stern. You were waiting for the ‘I told you so’ comment that was sure to come.

“What happened? Did you get bit?” She looked at your leg again.

You shook your head. “No. It’s just a scrape.” You try to pull out of her grasp. “It’s just a scratch. There’s no need to waste supplies on me.”

“Want me to call Daryl over? You might be able to fight me off but not him.” You knew she’d do it too and then Daryl would start berating you.

“Fine.” You grumbled.

~

When you were on the table, leg out, the medic carefully pealed back the soaked bandage. The wound underneath looked even worse than before.

“Looks infected.” They said and turned to get supplies.

“What did I say?” Carol said from beside you.

“I know! I know.”

The medic examined your leg. “Looks like there’s splinters in here. Did you fall?”

You nod. “Was fighting off a walker and fell on a broken stump.”

Carol turned to you. “And you were just gonna leave it? I knew I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Annoyance bubbled in you. “This is why! This is why I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“That’s no excuse for being stupid.”

You winced and yelped as the medic took tweezers to your leg, digging out the splinters.

Carol’s hands were on your hair and arm, comforting you.

“You know I love you, right? I’m just looking out for you.”

You nod, tears welling in your eyes at the pain. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry you felt you had to hide that from me. Please don’t do it again. If you’d left this too long you could’ve lost your leg.”

“I know. I hate when you’re right.” You sighed, taking her hand in yours and squeezing as the tweezers went into your leg again.

Carol kissed your forehead and stroked your hair as the medic finished up.

[bookwormscififan]

Shifting Silhouettes, Chapter 4

Confronting Cover-Ups

Read on AO3!

Chapter 1, 2, 3

A/N: How did Mare react to the danger Phantom faced at the warehouse? Also, Night's gonna make a rule that Mare 100% will not obey.

--

“Someone tipped the demons off!” Mare stated, following Night and fidgeting with the leather cuff around his wrist. “My twin was almost killed in there, Night! You almost sent him to his death!”

“What matters is that he didn’t die, Mare,” Night replied, ever the calm one. “He’s my best weapons expert. If he thought he’d be in trouble, he would have gone equipped with more ammunition.”

“The file you gave him had no hints of anything happening that would need better guns!” Mare waved his arms with an annoyed sound, finally making Night stop in his tracks. “You treat us like your own sons, then you sent him out there without all the information he needed.”

“I sent him with the information that was important to the mission,” Night replied, hesitating a moment before meeting Mare’s eyes. “I don’t know how the demons knew he was coming. I agree that we may have a traitor among us, but it will help nobody to lose yourself in the halls.”

Mare paused, scratching under the cuff with a thumbnail before stepping back with a short nod. “You’re right,” he mumbled, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “I just don’t like feeling like we mean nothing more to you than simple hunters.”

“I know, Mare,” Night answered, reaching out to touch Mare’s shoulder. “Rest assured, you two are not expendable. I hold you both to a higher standard than I hold myself. Murdock is working on assessments of every hunter in case somebody is not who they say they are. I would never send you or Phantom to die.”

Mare nodded quietly, hand gently touching the locket under his shirt as he listened to Night. He knew Murdock would find the traitor, he was assigned Night’s head of security shortly after the twins had been brought in, and he had a knack for discovering things others had thought were well hidden.

“Now, tell me about this cuff you’ve been wearing,” Night continued, calling Mare’s attention back as he lifted his wrist to inspect the leather. “This is the cuff I gave Phantom when he tried to learn archery, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Mare replied, hiding his flinch when Night dug his thumb into the Bonding sigil beneath the cuff. “Thought I could wear it as a new kind of… fashion?”

“You’re using it to hide something.” It wasn’t a question, eyes on Mare’s face as he undid the lacing on the cuff before slipping it off his wrist to reveal the sigil. “Explain.”

“He said he’d put a glamour over it so you couldn’t see,” Mare mumbled, staring transfixed at the scars. “Maybe he forgot.”

“Mare,” Night’s voice was tinged with frustration, running a thumb across the sigil. “What is this?”

“It’s Mad’s sigil,” Mare whispered, pulling his hand away when Night tensed. “He carved it into my wrist with a dagger coated in his blood to bind us together. He’s got his own on his wrist, so we match.”

“What do you mean, “bind us together”?” Night’s eyes were hard, mouth pressed into a thin line as he ushered Mare into his lab, closing the door.

“The Bonding,” Mare replied, taking the leather cuff from Night and putting it back on his wrist. “It’s like a wedding for demons… or maybe closer to getting engaged? Sharing blood to connect our souls. At least, that’s how he explained it to me.”

“Mare,” Night began, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning against the bench. “Tell me you didn’t do anything rash, and that this… “Bonding” can be reversed.”

“I was of sound mind when I asked for this,” Mare answered, crossing his arms with a frown. “I know that if either myself or Mad gets hurt, the other will feel the same pain. I don’t think it’s reversible.”

“Until I’ve figured out how to fix this,” Night started, heading for the door, “You are not to see Madrick again. The same applies to Phantom. This is dangerous, Mare.” The door closed with a soft click behind him, leaving Mare alone in the lab before something shifted in the air behind him.

“Alright, not doing that again,” Phantom groused, leaning over the sink as his stomach churned. “Hey, Mare. Jackie and I were waiting for him to leave so we could talk to you about the warehouse.” He flashed Mare a smile before leaning into Jackie’s side, the demon guiding him to his brother with devoted eyes.

“He’s searching for the mole as we speak,” Mare mumbled, sitting in a chair with a sigh. “He knows about the Bonding, and he’s forbidden me from seeing Mad.”

“Yeah, we heard that,” Jackie replied, sitting on the bench beside Mare with Phantom in his arms. “I’d suggest waiting a bit before telling that to Mad. With his power, you don’t want to see him on the war path.”

“Fair,” Mare chuckled, thumbing at the locket around his neck before wrinkling his nose at his twin. “Why do you two smell like gunpowder and sex? What did you do in that warehouse?”

“Mare, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” Jackie answered, patting his shoulder before he and Phantom disappeared into the shadows.

-------------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons @rattyboyisemo

[aajjks]

NWO!JK

you’re trying your hardest to not break into a fit of tears in front of everyone but it’s hard to hide the amount of pain your in; both physically and emotionally. your best friend, who you’ve known since he just was a shy kid in high school, has shoved you onto the ground with so much force. a force that leaves you questioning where this hidden strength of his came from. is he that angry at you? no human should be able to push someone to the ground like he did but besides the series of questions the flow throughout your brain, you’ve never been so embarrassed in your life.

eunwoo rushes to your side to help pick you up and jungkook watches your face go from anger to fearful. you’re scared of him and he can tell you’re in pain from the way you flinch when eunwoo pulls you up. “you want us to leave you alone? fine” you reach up and snatch the necklace jungkook exchanged with you before throwing it at him. “i want nothing to do with you anymore”

you storm out of the cafeteria with tears falling from your eyes. jungkook calls your name but eunwoo stops him. “just leave her alone…leave us alone” it’s the last thing eunwoo says before grabbing yours and his stuff and following after you.

you run into the bathroom and start to cry. you never thought jungkook would ever hurt you; where’s the jungkook that stayed with you while you were sick? where’s the jungkook who cheered you up when you failed your first test? where’s the jungkook you love?

*knock* *knock*

“y/n? you okay in there?” asks eunwoo. you take a deep breath to stabilize your voice for answering him. “yes…give me a second”

you rinse your face off but your eyes are red from crying. it’s so hard to pretend like you aren’t hurt and truthfully, the stinging on your arms and back are incomparable to the pain you feel in your heart. that’s what hurts the most.

when you leave the bathroom, eunwoo hands you a bag of ice he retrieved from who knows where and gently presses it on your arm.

“thanks eunwoo”

“you don’t have to thank me….you like him don’t you?”

“yeah. i guess that’s why it hurts so much”

“you gonna tell him?”

“fuck no. i’m done with him. you think i’m gonna let some guy shove me onto the floor and willingly date them? hell no”

eunwoo knows you’re lying and so do you.

~🫧

Guilt overtakes him completely.

Jungkook doesn’t realize what he has done right now as he watches as you walk away from him with the help of eunwoo-and you take the necklace off from your neck that he gave you, exchanged with you the other day, and throw it in his face.

“WAIT!”

In anger, he calls out your name and he tries to take his necklace off, but before he can do that, you’re already gone.

 he tries to call out your name, but he knows that it’s futile because he has fucked up, and instinctively he reaches and grabs the necklace that is dangling around his neck-as to feel closer to you

But as soon as he grabs it, he feels it burning again. But he doesn’t flinch away because it is matching the temperature of his body right now, it doesn’t hurt at all, but he feels his anger, bubbling up once again

Jungkook scoffs before leaving the campus, completely ignoring the people gossiping and calling him out

You didn’t even look at him. You let eunwoo take you away. You are such a bitch.

Jungkook feels so jealous, so angry and frustrated-why would you touch him when he was telling you not to do that?

Why would you let eunwoo touch you but you flinched away when jungkook tried to help you? Is it fun for you to play with his feelings like this?

The guilt is gone now, and Jungkook spots his bike before getting on it and he drives away

He has no idea what’s gonna happen now, but one thing is for sure he will have you

A few minutes later, as he’s driving, consumed by his anger and guilt, as he’s driving by. He starts to notice some people running.

“well what the fuck is going on?”

He stops his bike to ask one of the people running away.

That’s when he can tell that something is really wrong.

[imaginationxfound]

Hi hello!! I love your works!!! For the ask game, could I ask 15? Thank you

“Do you have an unwritten scene you think about a lot?”

Oh god so many, just from rearrange the stars. So humor me as I post several outline snippets because I haven’t had time to work on it 😭 (in consecutive order)

It’s the Yule Ball! Draco spends most of the dance pining as Harry has a genuinely good time with Luna. Neville sits down next to him and Ginny and is like “Hey Malfoy, if you want people to stop saying you’re gay, maybe you should stop acting like you are.” Ginny laughs, and Draco is very flustered. Neville came here with Hannah Abbot, who’s getting punch. Ginny teases Draco about him being lucky that Harry is oblivious. He’s like “Am I really that obvious…” “Most of the time? No. You’re a good actor, but right now? Transparent. I can practically feel the jealousy radiating off of you, and the two of them are just friends.” Ginny grabs his hand to drag him to dance, to get his mind off it, at least until Luna and Harry are all danced out.

And from the same chapter (I’m so excited for the Yule ball chapter hgfhbdf)

Draco sighs, and tells Harry that he thinks he’s going to go to bed, but he’s actually looking for Rita Skeeter as Harry heads back into the dance, and he finds her, levitating her up and further away from others, before forcing her back to her human form. “You do nearly as much harm to our society as my father does,” He growls, gripping his wand tightly. “You’re not reporting on anything you’ve heard tonight though.” And he modifies her memory, to make her think that all she heard was a few students shagging. No scoops. And then he leaves her. And runs headlong into Luna who goes, “Well that was a bit ethically questionable, wasn’t it? Do you know something because of your time turner?” “How did you--” “You’re in more classes than you have time for. And starting last year you added a gold chain around your neck to the silver one you already had, though both are hidden under your shirt. It wasn’t hard to guess. Daddy always thought that time turners could be an amazing way to maximize education-” “No- They aren’t. Granger burned herself out and dropped two classes so she could turn hers in; and I find it difficult to manage with just one more class than the schedule normally allows. It’s not feasible for most people; it’s stressful.” “Oh. Shame that. But, did you?” “… No, I just know Rita Skeeter. She’s vile; and if I overheard something that ought not be twisted and printed, then she definitely did.” Luna questions when he learned the memory charm- isn’t it supposed to be really difficult? Draco mumbles something about studying a lot- “What’s the silver chain?” “Huh-” “You’re always wearing two chains around your neck; and you try to hide both of them under your shirt collar. The gold one is a time turner; what’s the silver?” “It’s platinum,” He corrects on instinct, then winces. “It’s not really your business, Luna. That’s really personal.” She smiles. “Daddy tells me that there’s actually more than one kind of time turner, but the ministry keeps the others secret. But you don’t have to tell me; it’s fine.” She skips forward and kisses his cheek, but whispers into his ear while close like that. “You’re a good friend Draco, but you’re never gonna change your future if you don’t talk to Harry about how you feel.” She leaves him there, red faced and very confused as to how she got there.

Goddamnit I love Luna

Draco looks at Pomfrey to make sure she’s not listening before leaning close, “so were there any snags?” “No, almost word for word the same.” Ron asks what they’re talking about, and Harry smiles faintly. “Can you wait for Pomfrey to release me for your answer?” Hermione gasps, clapping her hands to her mouth. This is what they were waiting for. The next morning, they’re all in the room of requirement, borrowing Dumbledore’s penisive, which Draco is carefully selecting memories for in front of a very confused Daphne when Harry arrived with the others. “Are you going to tell us about time travel now, Draco?” Luna asks, utterly flabbergasting Hermione. And Harry. “Did- Did you guys tell her???” “No,” Draco laughs, “we didn’t. Potter, you better contribute to this, or it will be very one sided.”

I could go on, but that’s quite enough I think

[sakurarisen]

Okay, so I'm not done yet, but progress on updating things is going pretty smoothly! At this point, everything I have left to update is heavily tied to partners and friends also involved; it's knee-deep in plotting and ironing out details and the like, so it'll be a couple more days before that's done and I can finish updating things around here! <3

But for the time being, I'm gonna make this post as a sort of 'halfway point' update, and note that from these updates on, Halcyon lore is going to be far more up front and present in how I write Sera. Sera and Aria are one in the same and I want to draw that more into my verses and characterization, though how will still vary depending on verse. Right now, I'm looking at the following for these updates, ultimately, read more because length:

-Sera's primary modern day/fandomless based verse will be set in Spellbound, a current day setting in Bunkyo, Tokyo, Japan, where magic lingers in the background of all things, largely going unnoticed by regular humans despite intense conflict brewing. While Spellbound is under heavy reconstruction right now, its plotline and development will be linked to Halcyon, and this will be the only verse in which Aria is half awake - Meaning Sera is aware her true name is Aria, she is some kind of ice magician/creature, and she needs to remain in hiding, with most else still locked away in the seal Aria's made to stay hidden in human form. Spellbound will be an open verse to run for threads as Sera's primary once things are done; only Halcyon and Somnium Crystallum will be closed verses and run solely with Kasa ( @yoroiis / @honorisen ).

-In Spellbound, Sera will not be sharing anything about Aria unless she feels she can trust them with her life. Her lifespan is longer than the typical human's due to the partial awakening of her original self, and her instincts say to keep hidden during this extended lifespan; she doesn't know why, doesn't know who to ask for answers to that question, she just knows she needs to hide herself. Her power is also only half awakened at this point and, true to Sera, won't really be used unless plotted out ahead of time and the like, same as I already run threads with her.

-Her primary carrd has already gotten a severe overhaul to further add in mentions of Aria and the fact Sera and Aria are the same person, but I've also added a 'About Aria' section to it to further explain her original lifetime and where that deep, never-ending sense of survivor's guilt comes from - Especially since this update is putting into play a lot of things I'm only now realizing about Sera, myself.

-I've already gone through and updated my rules to reflect things, as well! Aside from needed Spellbound-related mentions and tweeks, and a need to rewrite the triggers section later in full once I get everything else sorted, it's mostly up to date with reference to the new lore and things I really needed to update for a while already as it was!

I know I've mentioned it probably a dozen times in this post alone, but none of the above edits, nor ones coming, will affect how I write Sera in general, or how she's been written in any fandom based verses. Aria and Sera are one in the same - think of it as an amnesiac picking a new name for themself and making new memories while unable to access the old, but still being the same person otherwise - and absolutely nothing is changing about Sera as she has been! She's still the same sweet, kind soul who wants nothing more than to help others yet has more to her than even she's aware of, and Halcyon lore does not and will not replace any fandom canons I write in. I've made sure it runs either with or adjacent to canons, never against, and expands on already present lore - Which is why I will continue to call myself a canon divergent blog.

There's still quite a few updates coming, and since I'm currently laid up with an injured knee, that's going to be my focus for a bit until it's totally done - I just wanted to make a halfway point update, just so I'm not totally radio silent! <3

Happy weekend, y'all~ <3

~Pom

[furinlegend]

Doesn't take shit from anyone... unless it's from a certain someone. But not like he'd let him know that little tidbit. Just hearing all of this resulted in smugly raised brows. It's all got him wondering if Kaji hated modesty. How about the cowardly and weak? Just exactly what mentality does he hide... and would he be a fit for Noroshi even if the other would never dare to leave his circle of friends? He couldn't exactly hunt him down, but it's always nice to have a fantasy or two.

" And to think I was only gonna be your candy supplier when we first met. " Not literally, but he still cracks up at their first circumstances because it wasn't like they planned on seeing each other again. Right...?

" Admire? Ha! Look at ya being so nice. Don't gotta win me over, is the sweetness ya swallow contagious or something? " Kaji still didn't peg him as some overly cheery person, but kind acts can come from all personalities, cold and warm. If anything, he felt shy. " It's kinda driving me crazy. " Tilting his head forward, Endo looks at him closer.

There was something there, but every time he gets close to figuring it out, he learns nothing. Something was not right with Kaji, and it had nothing to do with Endo in particular. It wasn't like he thought the headphone wearing male had to be mentally disturbed to appreciate his presence, it was more like... he could feel a ticking energy in a boy that tries to salvage it with a damned addiction of his. A hidden veil.

And just like how he starts a metaphorical wildfire with Takiishi, he wanted to unleash a wilder beast in the one that wouldn't run away.

Even if the violence was aimed solely at him.

" Your expectations are far too pure for me to tell you what I mean. I can tell. The people I come across aren't lookin' for anything meaningful, just business exchanges and both of us using each other. That's how I like it, 'cause no one's gonna grab my attention and it's on my terms. Guess you slipped through the cracks. " A deep breath tutted out ( hardly a sigh, more like an exhale from talking longwindedly ) fighting the urge to caress a pink dusted face.

The idle, anxious fiddling of his shirt—however—got to him. Endo's closing in, not to kiss or hold, but to cage him against the fence.

' So, what if I did want you? ' A question that was answered by the next. One ingredient to his new fixation was missing, the boy had some hang ups, right? If there were any flaws, he'd lay a finger to crack open before any polishing was considered. Or desired.

" Yeah . . . I can't make up my mind until I see you in all your colors. Your true self gets revealed fist-to-fist, and I know you know that in some capacity. I guess that's something I'll hafta forever carry from Furin even if I left. Your shitty leader isn't wrong . . . "

He backs off, giving him SOME breathing air, now focusing on the sucker. There was more significance to them, isn't there? Doesn't matter... he was here to be the sole focus for now, still having his limbs trap him. Most don't exactly act unless threats were inflicted.

" Fighting IS communicating, and I have a date with your palms. "

When the two of them first started talking he would've pushed back. But now? Now, he realized he wanted to know more about the other. He was interested to know more about him. "I mean before I would've said that was like cocky or something else. But now? I kind of admire that about you. That you don't take shit from anyone." Yeah, he was admitting that. But he figured why the heck not at this point?

And maybe, just maybe he found himself wanting to be around Endo. Not that he'd admit that to anyone out loud. Especially not to anyone at Bofurin.

Ren, wasn't normally like this. Finding himself wanting to be around more of the troubled people. Even ex Furin members. But here he was, sucking on his lollipop and not bothering to just walk away from Endo. He doesn't want to.

His eyes blink at the other. How was it that Endo was able to already discover just what he wanted right now? Was it the way his heart was beating a lot faster right now? Could Endo hear that? Or was it just the way his face gave away exactly how he was feeling?

"Why would I want you around just for something dumb?" Ren asked. That wasn't something he'd ever do. If he wanted someone around it was because he wanted them to be. And a lot of the time he was one that liked his alone time. But depending on the person, he could stand to be around them more.

His cheeks flush a light shade of pink just now. Ren plays with the hem of his shirt as he looks away from Endo. So, what if I did want you?" Ren found himself basically admitting it.

"I have to fight you?"