#i think i bit off more than i can chew... all the shadows and light i need to add... ack >⌓<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[murakamiyuki]

A Silver Lining

You're a healer in a party of adventurers! Unfortunately, you seem to be the side character of their story. While your friends bask in the glory and love, you're brushed aside into the shadows, along with your orc friend. One day, during yet another dangerous mission, an accident happens, and you and your party split up. Who knows... Maybe could a disaster turn into an opportunity to finally forge your own story?

A/N: OKAY, I wrote this in a flash after I read a tumblr post, and the muse decided that I had to suffer until I write a full fanfic for it, so here you go! @blossompencil I have finally finished it >W< What do you think? 👉👈

Read on Ao3

Masterlist

Your eyes are blurry, barely able to catch the shape of the forest around you. Your lungs tighten with each move as you try to avoid inhaling the nasty smoke. Flames tickle your skin, and it would definitely burn you, leaving an array of nasty scars had it not been for a protective layer you cast upon yourself and your party. Your ears are filled with the sounds of a fierce fight in the dead of the night. Your muscles scream for a break after a continuous battle against the firebreathing salamander you never even agreed on. This is too much for a mere human like you.

In front of you is your teammate – orc Garon. He towers over you at a solid 7 feet. His giant form is a shield between the other smaller lizards and you. The steel poleaxe in his hands swings faster than your eyes can follow, but you cannot rest.

Your hands are raised, and your form is glowing as mana flows out of your body to follow your command – to protect your teammates. 

In the midst of chaos, you hear Leo, your leader, scream your name. Your eyes travel to his form—his sword raised in a protective stance as he pants hard—and you notice a bleeding gash on his shoulder. Your hands tremble, but you raise them anyway to heal a fresh cut. Soft green light emits from the tips of your fingers and travels all the way to Leo, and within a few seconds, the wound closes, leaving behind only a shredded piece of armor.

You’re shaking. Is it exhaustion after fighting for so long? Frustration at the sheer strength of the enemy? Or fury at your teammates who decided to bite off more than they could chew? You don’t know at this point.

However, on the other hand, you understand the reason behind it. All other adventures above the required level were scattered throughout on their respective missions. All but your party. And if the salamander isn’t defeated, it will simply burn all farms and crops, singlehandedly causing famish upon the entire city.

Still, as your knees buckle underneath you, you can’t help but internally curse your friends for dragging you out here.

“Cat! Heal!” Hareene, the elf, calls out for you. Her eyes are still trained on the salamander as she charges at its vitals with the sharp of her spear.

You ignore the nickname, focusing on your task of healing her burnt side until the skin looks as dainty as possible for an elf.

You breathe deeply to calm down your racing heart. The fiery scenery swims in your eyes. You try to blink away the black spots, but it only makes it worse. When you hear Garon call your name, you’re ready to fall dead from exhaustion.

“Just hold on a bit longer,” his own voice is breathless and rigid, yet the determination and a quiet promise of a reprise give you just a sliver of strength to stand firm.

‘Just a bit more…’ you think—hope—anxiously to yourself.

“Caaat!!!” You hear Saeka’s, the fairy mage, almost weeping voice somewhere above your head. You look up and see the flap of her sparkling wings carry her through the sky. She waves at you until you notice her bleeding ankle—an attack she barely managed to dodge. Reluctantly, you heal it too.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. Your mana is depleting much faster than you anticipated, especially having to sustain the fire-protecting barrier on 5 people, and the monster is way too stubborn to die. You don’t know just how much longer of this fight you can handle.

But then…

You hear it first. A pained cry of the salamander, loud enough to be heard all the way back in the city. The sound is so excruciating, that one might question the humanity of your actions.

Then, you see it. Peeking from behind Garon, you stare at Leo’s sword digging into the monster’s chest. Hareen managed to nail one of its paws to the ground with her spear. Meanwhile, Saeka continuously conjures ice spikes, dropping them all over the salamander’s spine.

‘This is it,’ you think.

‘Finally, it’s over,’ you pray.

Gathering the last bit of your might, you direct your mana to your teammates. Despite your muscles breaking, on the brink of consciousness, you concentrate on pronouncing—hopefully—the last spell in your head. Soon, a soft glow embraces their figures once again, and suddenly their strength is immaculate.

With a fierce cry, Leo drives the sword all the way through the scaled body and up to the head, finally killing the creature. Sparks fly from its fire glands before gradually diffusing into smoke.  Then, the salamander falls to the ground with a thunderous thud. At the same time, Saeka uses her magic to summon water, at last, putting out the fire.

You stare at its body for a short moment, heart pounding wildly in your chest, before releasing a shuddering breath. There’s a loud ringing in your ear. The stress of the situation finally begins wearing off, and your legs give out underneath you.

You plop down onto the grass, eyes closing while groaning as your muscles cry of relief. It has been a while since the last time a battle wore you down this much. You feel utterly spent and exhausted.

“Don’t relax just yet, Cat,” Saeka murmurs in your ear in that honey-sweet voice of hers. You force your eyes to open, and you find her crouched beside you, her long hair tickling the side of your face, and her wings down, resembling a cape. “We still gotta report the completed quest.”

“What’s gotten you so tired anyway, it’s not like we took much damage,” Hareene remarks when she and Leo join the rest of the team, he carries the salamander’s head as well. Her tone sounds annoyed. However, it could be because of the new set of armor she purchased for a big sum of money that was now in rather pitiful condition. “That cheapskate promised a high quality…”

You ignore her comment, too tired to argue with her.

“I guess I’m not gonna tell you I told you so,” Leo rolled his eyes which inevitably traveled to his own broken armor. He sighed in defeat but quickly recovered when another command fell from his lips. “Alright, warriors, let’s return!”

You want to protest, silently begging for another 5 minutes or days of rest. But the thought of a hot bath and a soft bed makes you almost whine. Thus, you push yourself off the ground with a grunt. Your whole body is in pain that you contemplate retirement. However, seeing your friends tired but unscathed, you can’t help but feel relieved and proud. They survived thanks to you.

Every step is painful. Your brain is still fuzzy, fighting desperately for a break, but you push back, hoping to at least reach the city before you allow yourself to fall into slumber. But then, you feel the world shift when you’re lifted into the air by something. Or better say, someone.

Garon hoists you up gently like you’re a delicate flower. He maneuvers you until you lie like a princess in his hold. The warmth of his green skin makes you tingle as a blush creeps up your face. Whether it was his natural temperature or the result of the fight, you aren’t sure, but you’re not complaining either when you finally relax into his embrace.

Garon might not be the most talkative person in the world, but the message in his gestures is perfectly clear.

“Nawwww, look at you two lovebirds~” Saeka teases while she hovers above the both of you.

“Shut up,” Garon’s voice is calm and nonchalant, but you swear you felt his fingers twitch and his skin heating up even more at the implication. You yourself can’t help but blush harder.

“Cat and Garon are sitting on a tree!” Saeka begins singing, swirling in the air. “K-I-S-S-S-S-S-S-I-N-G!”

“I think there’s one too many s’s,” Hareena chuckles despite the confused frown.

“Not if they’re doing it for a long time~” Saeka teases and proceeds to sprinkle you and Garon with fairy dust from her wings.

“Hey, stop that!” Garon growls, pressing you closer to his chest protectively. The action seems almost involuntary, but you notice.

“Ha! Make me!”

Distantly, you hear Saeka cast a spell again. You don’t have time to react—not like you could do much from your current position—when the world spins again, worsening your headache. You feel cold water coat your legs, then the realization dawns on you. Saeka just shot you with a water ball, and Garon was quick enough to turn around, allowing the water to land on his back.

“You menace-!” Garon is about to draw his poleaxe when your whimper of discomfort draws his attention and he resumes the steady pace.

“Lovebirds~”

“Quit fighting there!” Leo’s authoritative bark instantly seized any war that could’ve followed. He jerks his head forward, gesturing at something. “We’re here.”

The city couldn’t be more alive, despite the dead of night. Perhaps they have been startled awake by the deafening roar of the slayed monster. Streets overflow with people—still in their nightwear with a simple cape over it to cover up—who have strolled outside to see for themselves the reason for the commotion. 

Then their eyes land on you and your team – the traces of a fight are prominent on you. You gradually make your way from the main gates, heading toward the Adventures Guild. You can feel the tension rising with every step as the citizens carefully assess you. They’re looking for an appropriate reaction, you’re sure of it.

Then, Leo raises the head of the salamander to showcase that he and his team are the ones who defeated the monster that had been terrorizing the city. Gasps and whispers reach your ears before they morph into raging cries of victory.

Garon walks with you a bit further at the back. You feel a little awkward, weaving through the crowd. You hear people congratulating you, or rather the trio in front of you.

“You are our heroes!”

“Thank you, brave warriors!”

“May the gods bless you for what you’ve done!”

“Thank you for saving us!”

“Are those two also with them?”

Your heart sinks. Your lips purse into a thin line the more you listen to the conversations.

“Is that an orc? What’s an orc doing here?”

“Who in their right mind would invite an orc to their party?”

“Who is that girl he’s carrying?”

“I heard that’s a stray they took in out of pity.”

“No wonder she’s so beat up, the heroes had to protect her as well.”

You avert your eyes away from the crowd. The whispers, murmurs, and rumors are quiet, but you’re able to make them out very well. Their words sting, but they are not that far from the truth. You’re not a fighter; you never have been. Physically you’re weak, and the healing powers are all you’ve got. They are a gift from a deity, and it has always been enough for you. However, the longer your adventure goes on, the worse the self-doubt settles. 

‘Am I dragging them down?’ You think to yourself, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Garon suddenly whispers into your ear. His usually gruff voice is soft and velvety but never lacking the resolve that he always carries. You look up only to find him staring straight into your soul. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight as they bore into yours as though silently pleading with you to believe him. “They can think whatever they want about you. Your opinion of yourself is the one that matters.”

You can’t help the blush creeping up your face. You bury your nose into his neck, inhaling the scent of musk and burnt wood. But despite the embarrassment, you ponder his words carefully. But as you think, more questions pop into your mind.

“But…” you start, hesitantly at first, but seeing his gentle face, waiting for you to continue, you find your voice. “Doesn’t it bother you though? We do just as much work, but they get all the glory?”

“Glory and fame don’t interest me,” Garon replies casually. “Besides, humans never truly liked orcs,” he adds coldly. He might’ve sounded nonchalant, but you felt the way his fingers clenched. “So, no matter how many achievements I accomplish, they’ll always see me as a monster, so I just ignore them.”

Your heart aches for him, but at the same time, you feel just a tad bit closer to him. The thought makes you smile, and quite bold when you raise your hand to cup his cheek. The movement is so tender, that Garon stops in his tracks to look at you once again. Suddenly, the victory, the people, and their nasty comments are but a blur.

“I don’t see you as a monster,” you softly murmur in his ear, and you swear you feel him shiver.

However, the intimate moment is ruthlessly interrupted by Saeka, who begins dusting you with sparkles off her wings again, making both you and Garon sigh in annoyance.

“Cuuuuuute~!” The fairy squeals, kicking her feet in the air, and the crowd laughs. You bury your face into Garon’s neck again to hide from prying eyes. “Come on, lovebirds, we got a room at the inn down the road. It has a hot spring!”

*~*~*

You groan groggily when you feel someone shake you awake. Your eyes are closed, but you don’t have to guess who exactly is the impatient one to rouse you at the crack of dawn. You shoo off Saeka’s hands and turn away from her, hoping to catch every last bit of sleep you can. You’re still tired after the fight last night.

“Caaaaat,” Saeka drawls as she climbs to lie on top of you, plopping down with all her weight. You huff and try to pry her off you; despite her dainty build, she’s not as light as people tend to believe. “Come ooon, we got a new mission!”

At that, your eyelids fly open. Your head slowly turns to stare at the girl on top of you. Your eyebrows join together in a frown as the meaning of her words finally sinks in. Suddenly, you’re wide awake and protesting, wiggling out from underneath the blanket. You jump onto the wooden floor and back away till your back hits the wall. “What?” You ask, just to make sure you didn’t mishear her.

“What?” Saeka sits up at the foot of your bed and tilts her head to the side, innocently. “Leo picked up another mission this morning. We’re heading out soon! So you better get ready.”

‘No, I did hear it right…’ you think to yourself, eyes going wide in a panic. “But we just completed a commission yesterday!” You exclaimed, tiredly rubbing your face.

“Well, Leo thought that we could use extra money,” Hareen said as she walked into the room, Leo and Garon strolling behind her.

“Besides, it’s a good practice. After all, the salamander yesterday was a bit challenging, so we have to get stronger,” Leo added with a shrug.

“I just don’t get what you’re complaining about, your job is the easiest,” Hareen crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. Her glare was cold, challenging. You wince at her words. 

“Yeah, Cat, I think it’ll be good for you, too,” Leo says with a smile, but his words are nothing short of discouraging.

“Maybe, before we make any decision, we should ask her what she thinks about it,” Garon’s voice is rough and seizing like he’s holding back his anger, which he totally is.

“Oh, come on,” Saeka whines as she jumps off the bed to stand by your side. Her wings nudge your shoulder, teasingly. “She’ll agree, right? She’s Cat! Cats are flexible!”

There it was again. Your nickname. Her snicker makes your stomach churn. The stigma that makes you want to crawl under a bridge like a true cat. Saeka’s words pop into your head, ‘Scaredy cat… Fast and agile, but weak and not as useful compared to other animals, but cats are adorable!’  Ever since she dropped that line, you’ve been nothing but Cat – unable to even fight.

So, as you stand in the room, all eyes turned at you, expectantly, pressing. Your breath hitches. Your teeth cage your lower lip, grazing over the soft flesh over and over again. The weight of the request pushes you down, and you’re not sure you have it in you to refuse. Your eyes trail over your friends’ faces, unsure and slightly panicked. Your mana still hasn’t fully recovered, so going against another monster so soon is a risk. At the same time, though, you think that maybe things will be fine, and your party won’t need your skills at all. They are experienced warriors, after all.

After what felt like an eternity, you let out a defeated sigh and nod, praying that the monster would be kind enough to let you all go with nothing but a scratch.

However, as you stare at the giant serpent, partially sticking out of the water, you feel your legs give out, and you fall flat on your butt. The wet rocks scratch the skin on the back of your thighs, but your mind barely registers the pain. All your attention is on your friends, fighting and losing what was supposed to be an easy job.

“The commission says that in the cave by the mountains lives a horde of goblins. We have to either chase them away or kill them,” Leo read out the request banner as they entered the cave.

“Goblins? That’s an easy one. You could’ve stayed at the inn, Cat,” Hareene mused, and you rolled your eyes at her. Yet, you couldn’t rid yourself of that gnawing feeling that something seemed off. Your intuition screamed at you to turn around and leave, before it was too late.

“The cave is deep, might even be a labyrinth at some point. Watch out, everyone.”

Goblins are niche monsters. They’re dumb and reckless. They lack any sort of intelligence whatsoever, with their only thought and driving force being sustenance and chaos. Goblins are only strong in numbers, but even a regular citizen can deal with them if they’re dedicated enough. It was supposed to be quick and easy.

When did it even go wrong? When you strayed too deep into the cave, stepping somewhere you shouldn’t have? Or when the commissioner failed to mention the ginormous serpent residing in underground waters that you successfully disturbed? One second, you were admiring the still waters, the second one, a blue-scaled monster burst above the surface. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your body locks in fear, refusing so much as to even blink. You can’t breathe or think properly. All you know is panic and your brain screaming at you to get the hell out of there. You want to. You desperately want to run for your life, but, realistically, how far would you even make it on shaking legs?

You see Leo and Hareen, fighting with all their might, but their efforts don’t even land a scratch on the monster. Saeka tries to conjure up a fire blast, but you notice the way her hands tremble in terror. Her eyes are wide, and her dress is torn and dirty after taking a powerful hit from the monster’s tail that smashed her into the cave wall. You are screwed.

The serpent releases a roar. The sound is so abhorrent and loud, you’re forced to close your ears to not go deaf. It lunges forward, aiming to catch Leo in its wide jaws. Its fangs���dripping with poison—sparkle, even in the dim lights of the cave. Hareene, thanks to her quick reflexes, redirects the attack by throwing her spear into the serpent’s eye. But the creature is faster. It manages to evade the sharp object, and the spear ricochets off the wall and falls into the waters. You are so screwed.

“RUN!!!” You hear Leo’s desperate voice. You see him charging toward the exit, dragging Hareene by her wrist. You want to follow the command, you really do, but your body still refuses to listen.

“Cat! Hurry!” Saeka cries out to you as she lurges past you after your leaders.

Finally, you feel blood rushing through your veins. You scramble to your feet like a toddler who still learns how to walk. You have no idea where you’re going, but anywhere will be safer than here. Your feet are numb, and you’re scared you’ll fall again. But then you make the mistake of looking back. You see the serpent’s eyes—red and shiny like rubies—lock on your form. Its cold stare makes your movements halt. And as you stand there, you think to yourself, ‘I can’t…’ suddenly realizing that this is how you’ll meet your end.

The serpent rushes to close the distance, the sharp fangs are seconds away from piercing you when Garon jumps at the monster with a roar of his own. You see him trying to tackle it, his poleaxe manages to graze its tongue, and, as the serpent cries of pain, wiggling and thrashing, it gives Garon enough time to hoist you up and break for the exit.

The ground shakes at the creature’s anger. Its deafening scream is the only thing you hear besides the thumping of your heart. You squeeze your eyes shut when the debris starts falling. Your hands fist Garon’s shirt, crying and praying to come back to safety. Just then, stalactites begin falling as well, and to your horror, the floor shatters under its weight, taking you both with it into the abyss.

When you open your eyes again, you’re outside, lying underneath a tree. The sun had long descended, ridding you of the comforting warmth you longed for. Your muscles hurt as you move, and your brain is foggy, but you will it to reconstruct the chain of events. The cave… The commission… Goblins…. The serpent… Suddenly, Garon’s face flashes before your eyes, and you sit up abruptly only to groan in pain when a pounding headache makes your eyes black out.

“Whoa, careful,” Garon’s voice is soft and quiet. He abandons the task of skinning a rabbit and approaches you in quick strides. His hand is warm when it palms your cheek. “Relax, you’re safe.”

“Where are we? What happened? Where are the others?” You ask, still disoriented, but alleviated to see your friend alive and safe.

“Not sure. I never caught up to them when the floor crashed. We fell into a river, and it spewed us here,” he explains calmly, and you sigh in exhaustion. 

You ponder his words and feel a stinging pain in your chest. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, both out of relief and regret. Your gaze drops to your lap, and you begin sobbing. “I never should’ve agreed to this!” You cry as a feeling of guilt overtakes your senses.

Garon looks at you in disbelief. Are you seriously blaming yourself for something, not even Leo, a former soldier, could’ve predicted?

“Hey, none of that. It’s no one’s fault, okay?” Garon says urgently. His hands cup your face to ensure you look him straight in the eyes.

“But…”

“No buts,” he interrupts you, a frown prominent on his battle-hardened face. “It could’ve happened to anybody, but you’re alive, and that’s the main thing.”

His words make your heart soft. Your lip wobbles before another array of sobs break out from your chest.

The sight of you crying tears him from the inside, and he doesn’t even think twice before capturing you in his embrace. His muscular arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. His large palm softly caresses your lower back, hoping that the motion will soothe you.

Your tears only intensify, feeling so many different emotions clash inside you. For minutes, or hours, you weep non-stop until you’re no longer able to, and your loud wails are reduced to quiet hiccups. Garon holds you firmly the whole time, gently cooing in your ear. His voice, his warmth, and his scent seem to work wonders in grounding you as you descend the mountain of your emotional breakdown.

“I boiled some water if you’d like to freshen up while I prepare us food,” Garon murmured. Only then did you notice a campfire, softly crackling in the background; it’s most likely the reason as to why your clothes are mostly dry. You stare weakly at the dancing flames before you nod.

You fight to suppress a whine when Garon pulls away from you. Luckily, he doesn’t stray too far, just far enough to grab a piece of cloth that he actually crafter out of his torn-up t-shirt. It wasn’t visible in the dim flickering light of the campfire, but you just now notice that he’s shirtless. He placed a pot—one that he made out of the piece of chestplate he found—of hot water and a tiny log for a stool by the river, making up a camp shower.

He beckons you, handing you the cloth, and suddenly you feel bashful. It was the first time being in his company alone. Tears washed away most of your worries, making space for more ordinary contemplation. One of which is being one-on-one with your crush. You look at the hot water, your face heats up at the mere thought of having to undress in his presence.

“Thank you…” You murmur shyly. You sit on the smoothly carved log before turning to face the orc once again. “Uhmm… A little privacy, please?”

Garon never even realized he was ogling, his eyes tracing your soft features while he could. He clears his throat to wave off the embarrassment and walks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, take your time. I’m gonna make dinner.”

You nod and tug your shirt off in one swift motion.

After you washed off most of the dirt and algae, you felt like a human again. A deep sigh falls off your lips as you sit on the grass, the smell of roasted rabbit is filling your nostrils. The rumbling in your stomach angrily reminds you that you haven’t had any proper meal ever since leaving the inn this morning. You silently observe the way Garon slowly turns the meat until it’s crispy.

The taste is worse than you anticipated. It’s expected, though, given your lack of any proper seasonings or vegetables, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. 

 “Do you think they got out safe?” You ask as you toss a stick Garon used to prepare the meat into the fire.

“I’d say yes,” Garon replies casually. However, you feel like his tone is void of any sympathy for your friends. “They’re capable warriors, they can handle themselves.”

“So what do we do now?” 

“My suggestion would be to head to another city, relocate completely, and see from there,” he says, chewing on the last piece.

“Are we not going to search for them?” You question with your eyebrow raised. You assumed that reuniting with your party mates would be a priority.

Garon snorts, but the sound lacks any trace of amusement. “Is that what you want?”

“Well, they could be hurt, stranded somewhere just like us, and-” you start rambling but are quickly interrupted by your comrade.

“I’m not asking what they need,” the firmness of his tone makes you pause. The weight of his words is not completely foreign to you, but abnormal enough to really stop and listen. “What I’m asking you is if you really want to come back to them after everything they dragged you through?”

The realization hits like ice-cold water. You recall every Hareene’s snide comment, the way she would diminish you, and your inability to fight unlike all of them. Saeka’s sickeningly sweet voice calling you that degrading nickname she felt so proud for coming up with rings in your ears like a curse. You remember Leo, the leader, the wisest of them all, who would dismiss your every concern and suggestion. No matter how infuriating you felt, you learned to push down those feelings for the sake of your friends. But, realistically, are they your friends?

‘No…’

You shake your head, stating your answer. You don’t want to go back to how things were. You are fed up with constant danger, and being in the company of people who wouldn’t bat an eye before dragging you down. There might be some truth to it, but a ‘thank you’ would be appreciated. 

Your eyes lock, and for a moment neither of you says anything, just contemplating the moment of sudden closeness. You see the corners of Garon’s lips tug upwards in a proud grin. You see something in his eyes you’ve seen multiple times – adoration.

You’re the first to break eye contact, growing shy again under the intensity of his gaze. But the way he looked at you, you can’t help but wonder if there might be something more than he lets on.

“We should head to sleep. We need rest,” he said after a while.

Sleeping on the cold ground may have not been ideal, but you have little room when you… actually have little room, tangled together like matching pieces with Garon. Your face is on his chest, so close you hear his steady heartbeat. One of his heavy arms is wrapped around your waist, while the other rests on your back, caging you in a protective embrace.

You don’t even know how that happened, for you two fell asleep a respectful distance away from each other. Was it your wishful thinking, or your unconsciousness trying to get closer to the natural source of comfort and warmth? Or perhaps Garon, even in his sleep, wanted to keep you safe and sound? You can only wonder.

You twist your head to see his face. You drink in his features, rough and scarred. His eyebrows are relaxed, the first time you witness it. 

It has been almost a year since you’ve met. You remember it as clearly as though it happened yesterday – Garon, exhausted and injured, sitting by the tree, similar to the one that is your abode right now. You approached him in quick strides, ignoring the scowl of disdain and clear disapproval on his part. You healed his wounds and patched his clothes to the best of your abilities while offering the kindest smile he’d ever seen. That moment solidified your bond. Garon, previously feared for his skills and hated for his upbringing, became your shield, your silent protector. A smile stretches on your lips at the nostalgia.

“You’re staring,” Garon mumbles with his eyes still closed. You don’t even question how he knew, you just accept it.

“Just admiring you,” you whisper, afraid that if you speak louder, you’ll ruin the precious moment between you.

You don’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the newfound freedom or the absence of one annoying fairy teasing you constantly. You feel a surge of longing and confidence, and you lean closer, pressing your lips to his.

Garon stiff beside you, clearly never expecting such a move from you, but the initiative is welcome. Your heart flatters when his palm that once lay on your waist cradles your face to deepen the kiss. It’s a bit awkward working around the tusks, but his lips are soft and warm. You practically melt, wishing you could simply merge bodies together in one piece.

A barely audible whine leaves your lips when he pulls away, but his hand still holds your cheek tenderly.

“What was that about?” He asks quietly, hopeful. His breath is hot against your red lips.

“Just…” you start, bashful, your confidence is long gone, and you grow shy once again. You squirm lightly in his hold, but it just causes you to tangle more. “Just wanted to kiss you, that’s all.”

Garon hums in acknowledgment. His eyes linger on your face, searching for any trace, any little hint of hesitation or regret. However, all he sees is the shine of certainty, and the steady warmth of your gaze, brimming with affection. Relief flickers across his features, gentle and real. He leans in again, slowly, giving you the chance to pull away. You don’t, though, instead closing the distance yet again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you almost feel like crying at the softness of the moment.

You skip along the road, humming a random song you once heard at some pub. Your mood is alleviated after the fond morning you shared with Garon. You replay the scene of your kiss in your head over and over again. Your heart sings with affection and love that the events of the previous day are nothing but a dull memory.

Garon walks beside you, his lips are pursed in embarrassment. Can orcs blush? You’re not sure, but if they can, he’s doing it now, considering that the green of his face is a few shades darker. It’s oddly endearing, this rare crack in his usually impenetrable demeanor.

There’s a quiet between you, not awkward, but new—tentative. It felt surprisingly freeing, not to have to rely on one selfish demand after another. You find yourself basking in this new dynamic – finally, an adventure where you don’t have to risk your life for a few golden coins.

“SOMEBODY, HELP!!!”

You curse under your breath, less out of annoyance, more out of fear. The flashbacks of the serpent, its red, murderous eyes staring into your soul resurface. Cold sweat forms on your forehead. Your body freezes, not knowing what to do.

Luckily, Garon acts quicker than you. 

Instantly, he bares his weapon and rushes to the source of the voice. His form disappears behind the bushes, and the rustling of the leaves breaks you out of your trance.

‘Someone must be hurt there…’ You think frantically, landing a solid slap on your cheek to gather your thoughts together. Eventually, you rush after the orc. You weave through the woods until you see a carriage, thrown over on its side. Next to it sits a woman, whose shout you heard before. She holds a crying little boy, shielding him with her body against the giant wolves.

Garon stands between the woman with her son and a pack of wolves. Their eyes look crazed as they growl furiously at him. But even wolves know better than to charge erratically at an orc armed with a poleaxe, so they circle them, waiting for a chance to spree.

At that moment, your reflexes kick in. You raise your hand, casting a dexterity spell on your companion. Then, with one swift motion, Garon swings the poleaxe, grazing some of the wolves. Crimson liquid stains their fur and they release a blood-curdling howl before they sprint away. Your spell wafts off, but you immediately cast another one over the woman with her child to treat their wounds.

“Miss, are you okay?” You hurriedly approach to check in with them. You assess the damage, and luckily, thanks to you, they got away with barely a scratch and some torn clothes.

“T…thank you…” The woman mumbles, her voice still trembling with fear and adrenaline. Her hands instantly roam across her son’s body to ensure he is safe, but when she sees clean skin instead of an open wound, she breaks down in tears, hugging her little boy while peppering his face with kisses. “Thank you… Thank you, heroes!”

You look at them for a moment. Your thoughts twirl like a swarm of wild beasts. You hear both of them cry, bawling their eyes out in relief, and you can’t help but feel this tingling sensation blossoming in your chest. It makes you feel warm and content, almost… like you’re happy. 

You turn to look at Garon, and he’s wearing the same expression as yourself – confused but proud.

It’s a weird feeling. You have saved people enough times before, but no one even once ever looked at you like this. You? Heroes? No one has ever called you that. An unknown backup? A someone to pity? Definitely. But a hero? No, that’s first. 

For a moment, you feel—you believe—that you can become a hero as well.

*~*~*

About three months have passed ever since you parted with your party. And to speak quite honestly, you’ve never been happier. You’ve been traveling alongside Garon, just the two of you in perfect harmony. The road stretches long, but with him beside you, it never feels lonely.

Slowly, but surely, you build your reputation across lands as a healer with a holy touch and an undefeatable orc warrior. People begin whispering of your duo in marketplaces and taverns, not as a ballast to an infamous party of adventurers, but as something more genuine – a symbol of hope and power not to be tampered with.

Even now as you stroll through the streets of the city you arrived no long ago, you can’t help a dopey grin when you hear the rumors about you. You pick out the vegetables for dinner when it reaches your ears.

“Is that the healer people talk about?” One man asks the other as he glances backward to look at you.

“I heard she fixed Jonah’s broken collarbone,” he answers, while sipping his morning tea, voice laced with wonder and pride over knowing such private information.

“Do you think she can restore my eyesight too?”

“Man, you’re practically blind, nothing can help that,” his friend snickers. “But go ahead, you can ask her.”

You smile to yourself, preparing for a conversation and possible healing session. You don’t mind, of course, as long as you’re able to bring hope and smiles to people’s faces. However, what you catch, makes your blood run cold. Instead of two gentlemen, you hear her.

“Caaaaat!” Saeka’s honeyed voice rings in your ears, unlocking the memories you’ve tried to push down for the past 3 months. You don’t even have time to properly face her, when her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, squeezing tightly in a suffocating embrace. “I’ve finally found you?”

“S…saeka?” You stutter through gritted teeth when you finally come to your senses.

“It’s me! Where have you been?? We thought you and Garon died to that serpent!” She whined tearily, hugging you tighter. You’re about to wiggle out of her trap when she spreads her wings and soars into the sky with you in her hold. “Come with me!” Your basket is dropped on the ground, the vegetables scattering around haphazardly. Your screams are the last thing people hear as Saeka flies away, taking with you.

One moment you cry your voice out, the next moment you’re in a tent, your face flushed, and your hair disheveled. But the sight of Leo, pale and weak, lying on a pile of blankets and rolls of bandages sloppily wrapped around his shirtless body. The wound is deep, judging by the fresh blood staining the material.

“Cat?” Hareene sounds surprised when she sees you entering the tent, but her shock quickly morphs into indifference. She gestures to Leo, waving her hand. “Hurry up and heal him.”

You stand there, unmoving. Your brain short-circuits at the sudden turn of events. Your former partymates stare at you expectantly. Once again, you feel like a broken and timid little helper, while others take advantage of you. You’re not sure what would be the best course of action, after all, in your eyes, you never meant to meet them. Yet, here you are.

“Come on, cat, hurry, we’re afraid he doesn’t have much time!” Saeka pleads with you. Her voice is trembling, on the verge of tears.

“How did this even happen?” You question as you approach the bedding.

“Well, after we split, Leo wanted to find other jobs to, you know, get stronger,” the fairy starts. “But he may have gotten a bit reckless, and rhino stabbed him in the stomach.”

“We’ve been searching for you ever since, and then heard rumors about a healer who travels with an orc,” Hareene adds. Her arms were crossed over her chest, giving away her anxiety.

“Pleaseeee!” Saeka drawls, her hands clasped together, begging and crying.

Again, you’re confused. Your body locks in a familiar feeling of terror. But there are a few things you know for sure – you don’t want to help them; you don’t want to join back; constant stress and danger, all depending on you was too much for you, and you dread the possibility of it happening again. 

So you do one logical thing.

You heal Leo. Your hand glows as the energy flows into his body. You carefully weave around the wound, working to close it and force the body to start the restoring process. You see his face redden, and his pulse stabilizing, signaling his recovery. Then, in just a few minutes, he opens his eyes.

“Leo!” Hareene and Saeka wail in unison as they rush to their leader’s side to smother him with tears of relief and affection.

You stare at the pile, your face is drawn with indifference. Offering a curt nod—although you’re not sure any of them is in their right state of mind to pay you any attention—you exit the tent and begin strolling back to the city. Garon is probably worried sick about your absence.

“Cat, wait!” You hear Saeka’s voice call out for you as she catches up to you. Nothing but confusion is written on her face. “Where are you going???”

“Uhm, heading back?” You say the phrase like a question, unsure of the answer she was expecting. 

“But… We have to get going, we have a job waiting to be completed, and-”

“Saeka,” you say firmly, interrupting her. Frankly, you’re not surprised in the slightest at her dismissal. But finally, for the first time during your whole journey, you know what you want. You’ve found your voice and you’re about to fight your way out with it. “I think you misunderstood something. I healed Leo, but I’m not coming with you.”

“What…?” The sorrow in her voice is almost enough to make you backtrack. Almost.

“Garon and I are traveling by ourselves now, and I enjoy it the way it is,” you reply with a fond smile. “So, thank you, for the invitation, but I’m gonna have to decline,” you bowed politely, hoping she would understand, but luck was not on your side.

“What?! No! You can’t!” Saeka practically screams in your face, growing desperate with each second. “Look, I’m sorry we weren’t giving you enough credit, we’ll get better! But I mean, you’re cat! You’re our cat! We travel together! It’s our journey! ”

“Not anymore, Saeka. Goodbye,” you turn around and begin walking away. You can still hear the fairy’s cries and pleas, but you stand firm on your decision. It feels amazing to finally be able to voice your opinion, to fight for what you want. This feeling is elevating. Just one more thing left, you think before turning around to face Saeka once again. “Saeka.”

“Yes?” She looks at you with a look of hope that maybe you changed your mind.

You simply smile at her, before you say, “I’ve always hated that nickname.”

You don’t look back. You ignore the look of utter shock and betrayal as you resume your walking. Your heart pounds in your ribcage with all the adrenaline, but you’ve never felt better. A weight you hadn’t realized you were still carrying lifts with every stride you take away from them.

When you arrive back in the city and find the stall of food you never had the chance to shop at, you see Garon, going from one person to another, frantically asking people if they’ve seen you. Your heart flatters and a warm sensation settles in your stomach. You call out for him with a smile, and, as expected, the orc immediately rushes to your side, swoops you up, and twirls you in a dizzying dance, before his lips find yours in a longing kiss. You giggle into his mouth, feeling as though you’re going to burst any second from happiness.

“Where have you been? I was so worried,” Garon asks once he steadies you back down on your feet.

“Saeka found me,” you say truthfully as you begin walking to the inn you’re currently staying at.

“What? And what happened?”

A frown is etched onto his face as you retell the exact play of events. But when you beam at him, he smiles, lacing your fingers together. The more he listens to your story, the more his body stiffens. He doesn’t like the fact that you’ve been found, but he can’t help but notice the way your steps feel lighter, your voice louder, and your eyes brighter. And as you finish your tale, Garon feels nothing but pride. He presses his lips to your forehead, and you melt at the touch, thinking that everything will be okay from now on.

Oddly enough, you’re glad fate brought you face-to-face again with your former teammates. It gave you the opportunity to end things on your terms; to say what you’ve always wanted to say. Now, you can move on with your own journey. No more playing a supporting role in someone else’s legend. You can finally become the hero of your story.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Fifteen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2.6k

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and mature content

Notes; Last chapter for the weekend (I say weekend but it's only friday–) I'm really thinking about posting chapter sixteen, but I think I need to put more distance between my chapters I'm posting and what I'm currently working on, since twenty is real close to sixteen. I'll probably be working on chapter twenty this weekend and if I get to twenty-one, I might post sixteen! 🩷

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Masterlist

Melodious music serenades the luxurious banquet hall that’s illuminated by dreamy lighting.

Sylus calmly guides you across the dance floor, swaying to the song’s slow rhythm. He blocks the prying shadows around you both and when you look up, all you see is his face, which is quite infuriating because it’s a good face. It’s distracting.

“Y/n, you need to be smarter if you want to retaliate against me,” Sylus says with a small sigh. “Sorry, I’m not really used to these kinds of social gatherings,” You glance away from him with a small, sheepish smile and clumsily lift your heel off of his foot.

“Did you actually get information on the aether core?”

“You can choose not to believe me,” Sylus muses as you continue your dance. Catching a glimpse of a flashing red dot in the shadows, you use your hand that’s on his shoulder to push him in the opposite direction.

“But they wouldn’t leak such important information. Unless..” You trail off, trying to get him to talk about what you heard over the earpiece earlier, “It’s a trap.” “Exactly.” A smile tugs at the corner of Sylus’ lips, almost as if he’s proud of you for coming to that realization.

You look back up at him, a little concerned. “You’re not going to throw yourself into their trap, are you?” The man shakes his head before speaking with a smile, “Be content with your role. Don’t scare away the fish that already bit the hook.”

You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment, “There’s…eight evol bombs, fifteen high-frequency guns…They really want you dead. Sylus, you made a lot of enemies.” “This isn’t the first time it’s happened,” He replies nonchalantly as the music reaches a crescendo. The notes from the orchestra are layers on top of one another, like surging tidal waves.

The lights dim to the passionate beats and shadows surround you both on all sides.

“You have something up your sleeve, right? Even if you have a death wish, I don’t intend to die here with you,” You harshly whisper, feeling a panic build up in your chest.

“Don’t worry, you won’t die that easily.” Is all he says. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Boom

A deafening explosion drowns out the music and ensuing screams. The beautiful hall is instantly reduced to rubble.

Amidst the surging chaos, Sylus tightens his grip on your hand and while your heartbeat thunders in your ears, you can barely make out a scoff coming from him. To your surprise, you see him nonchalantly crush something before throwing it into the debris.

“You…had the detonator this whole time?” You ask, ears slightly ringing from the explosion as you look up at him. He laughs, a smile on his lips, “The vermin were taking their sweet time. I was getting impatient.”

 “The metaflux is quickly increasing and there’s more than one wanderer…be careful.” You look around at the rubble, hand subconsciously squeezing his tighter. Your free hand quickly pulls your gun from your thigh holster to fire several shots at the wanderer that was about to attack Sylus.

“Well, that was close..” You let out a sigh of relief. “How long do you think you’ll last with an outdated weapon like that?” He asks, jerking his chin in the direction of your pistols. “Hey..” You pout, holding your gun close to your chest.

They were like your babies. You couldn’t just get rid of them.

Sylus tosses over another gun and you fumble with it in your full hands. “Don’t waste your efforts.” he says, not elaborating on what he means. You shake your head with a small sigh, re-holstering your other guns to hold the new ones. They were definitely lighter than your old ones and seemed to be better made.

“Did Sherman make you do this? Where’s the aether core? Hey, answer me!” After you had handled the last wanderer, you found a henchman cowering in the corner. You press the muzzle of your gun against the back of his head as you spit-fired questions at him.

“You haven’t won yet! We still have a backup plan…! That thing is terrifying. When it shows up, not even Sylus– agh!” Black-red mist throws the man into a broken stone pillar. With a scream, he falls to the ground like a puppet whose strings were just cut. You jerk your head toward Sylus with a glare. “Violence should be used strategically,” He says with a shrug, calmly wiping the blood off of his face as the mist disappears from his hands.

“I would’ve believed you if your hands were clean,” You grumble with a small sigh, annoyed that you have to fight in heels– which is insane by the way. You’ve almost fallen over so many times.

Despite the venue being cleared, strong energy fluctuations manifest above you both and shake the ground you stand on. “What’s making that noise? Are there still some left?” You rub the back of your neck, before remembering that the henchman was talking about something being their backup plan.

“Let’s go.” Sylus turns to walk away and you throw your hands up in annoyance, “Where are we going?” The older man grabs your wrist and swiftly starts walking. “To the place that has what you want,” He says, his fingers deftly wrapped around your wrist.

The almost transparent elevator quickly ascends and the colourful night-time scenery is obscured by the clouds. The elevator doors creak open on the roof and your eyes widen as you notice the huge wormhole in the sky.

A sense of panic and foreboding claws at your chest from the image of something huge and alien-looking in the sky.

“What is this place..?” You manage to say as you both step out from the elevator and onto the dilapidated roof. Countless pieces of metal are strewn across the spacious rooftop. The area around you was shrouded in mist and in the haze, barely visible, are abandoned collection vessels, transporters, and other devices.

Broken steel bars poke out from the overgrown weeds. Rusty frames are propped up, outlining a bygone era. “It looks like a laboratory for experiments or something..” You murmur, hands gripping your guns tighter.

“It was one many years ago. But they abandoned it a while back,” Sylus finally answers, turning to look at you with his thumbs in his pockets. “They?” You parrot, head cocking to the side. Stepping over broken fragments and glass shards, Sylus’ tone remains aloof, “EVER.”

You pause at that bit of information. The EVER Cooperation? They were the leading force of intelligence in Linkon. Doing all kinds of research and good. Why were they ever in the N109 Zone?

As the most prestigious international business group, it basically supports the whole of Linkon City. So…how could they be involved with the N109 Zone?

“...I heard that before the Chronorift Catastrophe, the N109 Zone was the most prosperous tech hub so I guess it makes sense that EVER used it as a research base.” You say as you nod your head, managing to make sense of it before Sylus tears that thought down, “You really are a naive Linkon citizen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise a brow. Hell, you weren’t even a real Linkon citizen to begin with. You weren’t even from here. You were just going off what you knew from the game itself!

Sylus gives you a look, crossing his arms over his chest, “Many locations were affected by that catastrophe, yet only the N109 Zone turned into a wasteland. Why do you think that is?”

Ohh…You recall some unverified theories, but your mind is a mess right now. You can’t think of anything useful to this situation.

“We’re here.” Sylus stops walking and you almost run into his firm back.

Slow vibrations resembling heartbeats pulsate through the sky and you look up to see the Deepspace Tunnel– at least that’s what you assume it is. You’ve never seen one since being in the game, after all, but it must be that, since you had no other explanation. It was eerily beautiful.

Dense clouds and vortexes churn amidst the darkness and occasionally, a stream of light flashes across the night sky like heat lightning. The silent tunnel is like a telescope peeking into the universe.

“The Deepspace Tunnel…This is the first time I’ve been so close to it,” You murmur, taking a deep breath as tiny beams of light enter your line of sight. You can’t help, but take a step closer– before you notice a stone fixture. “It’s a Flux Nexus. I saw one in the no-hunt zone!” You exclaim, remembering what it looked like from that one mission with Xavier, before you entered the game.

“Then you should know what it contains. These fluctuations aren’t produced by normal protocores,” Sylus says from next to you and you nod your head.

The aether core.

Sylus stands next to you, looking at you with his eyes that have unfathomable depths. “Think about it first. Once you take it out, there’s no going back.” You take a deep breath. You’re already here, why would you give up now?

Gritting your teeth, you put your hand on the Flux Nexus’s intricate patterns. The power of resonance instantly flows through your body and dazzling light seeps out from your palm. A shiny, floating gem appears from the slab. “The aether core..” You reach out to touch it and as soon as your fingers brush against it, the ground starts to shake violently.

A storm appears.

Violent fluctuations lash out from the Deepspace Tunnel’s entrance. A huge shadow emerges from the vortex. It’s getting closer and closer. Its wings blot out all light in the sky.

“Is this…the backup plan they were talking about?!” You quickly turn toward Sylus, worriedly, and he chuckles, “We finally get something presentable.” A huge protofield unfolds before you and then, the ferocious wanderer charges toward you both at breakneck speed.

It’s a large blue-black bird, an Arbiterwings. It might be a bit difficult to take on without resonating with Sylus, so you’d have to try. Its feathers were made of crystalized metaflux, so it seems like that would be the way to take it down, destroy the feathers and the bird will fall.

A blinding light comes from your palm as you press it against Sylus’ shoulder, concentrating on resonating with him as the bird flew about in the dark red protofield. Finally– You break apart from Sylus and hold your guns up. “Ready?” You ask and without waiting for his response, you begin shooting at the bird.

 The first didn’t take too long, maybe four or five minutes at most but, once it was over, you quickly turn to look at Sylus excitedly before you realize you’re not on the roof...

What...

The scenery before you is blurry, but you can make out that it’s a war ravaged, desolate planet.

“Where…am I?” You mumble to yourself as you look around.

All you can see is darkness. The sky is dark with smoke pluming from the burning planet, cracks in the ground reveal bright reddish orange magma.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest as your gaze slowly moves down to your trembling, bloody hands.

“There’s…so much..blood.” Why were your hands so bloody? What was going on?

“You must press on.” Sylus? You quickly look around, tears pricking your eyes in your terror, desperate to see a familiar face in this hellscape.

But you can barely make out the figure in front of you. His blurry figure seemed to have corroded crystals growing on his shoulders, neck, and lower half. You could see his bare chest with dark blue and purple veins clearly visible. “That’s..” You murmur, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Was he turning into a wanderer like those people from before?

You felt his thin, spindly hand squeeze yours around the hilt of the sword that was plunged into his chest.

“Because…if you don’t..There’s no going back.”

His voice was coming from this thing?

Your hands shake as you realize you stabbed Sylus and you have no idea why. Seriously— What's going on? 

“Sylus–” An inferno blazes before your eyes, your vision blurring and amidst the blood and fire, the Deepspace Tunnel appears. It shakes violently. “Y/n, you must press on.” You flinch as a red electrical current strikes before your eyes and once your vision clears, you notice Sylus is holding his hand out toward you.

“The life you owe me– now is not the time to repay it.” He says and as you look at the hand reaching out toward you.

You see Sylus’s cold face..there was a hint of worry beneath his usual gaze. But there also seems to be a shadow above him. You can’t help but reach out as well.

Unprecedented power swells between your intertwined fingers and, instantly, you feel a tremor from deep within your heart. Something flows through your veins. The wanderer’s dissipating particles fall like a misty rain, yet a brighter light pierces through the haze.

You lift your free hand up to shield your eyes from the light, your eyes squinting as you tried to make out where the light was coming from. The aether core emits countless rays of golden light that seeps into your chest. The warm, familiar power continues to surge.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when the fluctuations around your body slowly start to subside. The movements within your body cease. It’s as if an ocean’s roaring waves have silently calmed down, turning into ripples on a lake’s surface.

A tiny golden stone hovers in the sky above your head and you reach out for it, holding it between your thumb and index finger.

“So this is the aether core…” It shines for a moment before a crack appears on it. You quickly turn toward Sylus in shock, noticing he’s looking up at the sky. “...Sylus?” You question and he closes his eyes before saying, “Its power belongs to you now. Naturally, the vessel will break as a result.”

“To...me?” You raise a brow as the white haired man looks at you. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks, looking away from you. He turns his back to you to walk away with you being dragged behind him.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” You say, exasperated. Your feet hurt from wearing your heels all day and fighting in them. “Wait– This is...?” He stops walking as you stare down at your hands with wide eyes. He wasn’t even grabbing your wrist.

He lifts your hands with a small sigh, an invisible force binding them together. He shakes his arm back and forth, your hand being forced to move with him. “Let go already!” You groan, glaring at your arms as you notice they weren’t even that close together. They were a few inches apart, so why were they stuck together?

Then, a deep orange light swirls between your hands. The light circles around both your wrists with a string connecting the circle together like handcuffs. “What…is this thing?” You question, tugging at your hand before looking up at Sylus, who sighs.

He doesn’t respond and the powerful tremor that shook the Deepspace Tunnel ignites a chain reaction within the N109 Zone.

Those shadows, who believed they controlled Onychinus, are eliminated from fate’s tapestry. Unable to see the undercurrents beneath the water’s surface, you can only smell the scent of smoke becoming more poignant as it’s carried by the wind.

Structures crumble and collapse, and Mephisto’s wings pierce through the boundless darkness. He’s accompanied by the distant tolling of a bell. 

It’s almost like an announcement, as if the world is saying…The true leader of Onychinus has returned.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes, @mitzkooni, @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

[that-stanford-girlie]

Let Me Be Part of Your World - Castiel x Mermaid!Reader

thank you @chevroletdean for letting me do one more. we gotta get all of team free will in, don’t we?

and thank you my love @cevans-is-classic for the plot idea. i knew cas was gonna be a struggle, and you came in clutch, babe. 💖💖💖

warnings: mentions of sex (not explicitly written)

genre: fluff

Castiel didn’t understand why humans loved the beach so much. It smelled interesting, but the sand hurt and it was loud and there were too many birds and-

“Cas,” Dean repeats. “Come on! Sam’s already in the water.”

He chews on his lip, shivering from the breeze. He misses the trench coat. In fact, he feels naked without it.

He sighs and slowly walks to the water. As soon as he touches the water, though? His brain short-circuits. One of the speakers nearby playing classic country tunes explodes just a bit, and the waves grow. Both Winchester brothers rush to Castiel, trying to calm him down so nothing else happens.

Castiel only snaps out of it when he hears the voice in the distance. Beautiful singing.

“I… I’m okay,” he mutters. He keeps his eyes in the direction of the voice.

“What’s goin on over there?” Dean asks, seeing the way Castiel is staring in the distance.

Cas shakes his head and looks back at the brothers. “I think it was just a figment of my imagination, Dean,” he smiles.

Dean nods, not really believing him, but then he rushes to the water once again which Sam, splashing around and playing in the water.

But he hears that voice once again.

And he starts to head towards it.

—

You sit in your cave, singing a tune to yourself. You don’t really know what it is; it’s just a tune at this point.

Your beautiful, shimmery gold tail splashes in the water as you sing, your fingers fidgeting with the new trinket you found. It’s a black cord with a little golden amulet on it, and it has horns and a face. It’s absolutely fascinating.

And then your ears pick up the discernible sound of somebody walking up to your cave. You quickly stop singing, listening closely.

“Hello?” a gruff voice calls. “Is somebody here?”

You press yourself into the dark shadows when a man walks in. “Hello?” he asks again. He seems… different than the others to you. He had that beautiful light blue hue that…

No.

Hell no.

A goddamn angel?!

Why was an angel in your cave?

And why the hell was he wearing… bumblebee swimming trunks? You’ve never seen an angel dress like that before.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued.

You quietly swim over to where he can see you. “Who are you?” you ask, your voice a sweet melody.

He spins around and faces you. “I’m Castiel. An Angel of the Lord. You are… a mermaid,” he breathes out.

“That I am,” you smile. It’s no secret that he’s attractive. You introduce yourself, and he repeats your name with soft smile.

“…that’s pretty.”

You watch as he sits on the rock, dipping his feet into the pool of water, and you heave yourself up to the rock and sit next to him. He doesn’t seem to be like the other angels. He seems… sweet. Innocent. For the most part, at least.

You talk to him for a while, and as your tail dries off, it splits to a pair of two legs. He watches in fascination as your tail disappears, and instead a shimmery golden dress appears on your body.

“…woah,” he mutters.

—

Castiel comes that next Thursday. He shows up with a smile and a small flower bouquet. “…My friend Dean says girls like flowers. I tried getting blue ones… You know, like the water?” He blushes and looks away, worrying his lip as he holds them out to you.

You giggle softly and take the flowers, putting them in a random large glass bottle you found a couple months before. “Thank you,” you smile as he sits down. You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek (which he blushes at, but you don’t see) before grabbing a small bumblebee keychain that had fallen into the water from the boardwalk. You would’ve bought it for him had you been used to using your legs, but you haven’t used them in years, so that would’ve taken a lot of time. Instead, you found it deep in the water beneath the bridge.

“…I figured you’d like it, since you were wearing bees last week,” you giggle. He smiles and takes it.

“…Thank you,” he whispers. You cross your arms on a flat rock and you rest your cheek on your forearms as you look up at him.

After a moment, he finds his words. “…your eyes are a beautiful color,” he murmurs. You blush softly, and he hesitantly reaches out and brushes your hair out of your eyes. His hand moves to your cheek, and you sit like that for a while as he tells you about his life, and you tell him about yours.

You learn about these brothers named Sam and Dean Winchester. They’re his best friends. You tell him about the merpeople and their kingdom, and he smiles as he intently listens.

—

You meet like that for a couple weeks. It’s no doubt that he’s attracted to you. You’re just unsure on if he’s aware of it or not.

He’s supposed to visit today. And you decide today that you’re going to give him the necklace you found.

And when he gives it to you? He says he recognizes it. It used to belong to his friend Dan, he says.

And then he kisses you.

And that leads to more.

Things you can tell he’s never felt before, but you’re more than willing to guide him through it.

And now, you sit against the wall, your head on his chest as his fingers comb through your salty hair. You press a kiss over his heart.

“You’re beautiful,” Castiel murmurs.

“Will I see you again next week?” you ask. Castiel nods. You tear off a piece of the shimmery fabric of your dress, and you hand it to him with a pearlescent shell. “Take this. If i ever go elsewhere, just tap the pearl stuck to the shell, and I’ll answer.”

He nods and presses a kiss to your head. “I will, love,” he murmurs. “But for now, I’m gonna stay here with you.”

god, was cas hard to write. he’s so complex, and i couldn’t do him justice i feel like, but i still had a lot of fun doing this!

liane, my love, congrats on 500! i’m so happy for you! (and once again, thank you for putting this writing challenge on. it was super fun!)

taglist

@cevans-is-classic

@keircat7

@peoplewatching-notstalker

@yftmaifky123

@jeff-da-killer1995

[littlemissthunderstorms]

blue light

there’s a blue light in my best friend’s room, there’s a blue light in his eyes

2006 alex turner x reader

———

“what does this even mean?” you frowned down at your math homework, erasing your pencil marks aggressively. it was too confusing. just when you thought you knew what was happening the rules of the equation would change, causing the crease in between your brows to become more prominent. you swore you’d been aging much more rapidly ever since college algebra.

“take a break, it’s not due till’ next week.” alex muttered from the floor, his nose buried in some book plucked from the neat stack he had by his bed.

you shrugged, scrunching your nose and sliding the paper in your bag before slumping back down on his bed. alex sat down next to you, closing his book and examining the seam as he leant against the wall. “you okay?” his voice was soft, the sky was getting dark and so was his room. you were so tired.

“i dunno, just, stressed.” you crossed your arms, fixating on the wall opposite of you. shadows danced across the shelfs and tables, headlights illuminating the room as a car, accompanied by a low hum, passed through the street outside. spring breeze drifted into the room from the open window, smelling like rain and trees. you closed your eyes briefly, finding serenity in the moment.

your eyes fluttered open at the feel of alex’s fingertips soft against your arm. you turned to look at the boy. “you sure you’re alright?” he looked so soft, you wished you could capture him like this forever. his hair was short and rather unruly from all the times his fidgety hands ran through the strands. his eyes were soft, the blue light in his room reflecting back into his gaze, making you feel equivalent to a puddle.

you sat up, now sitting so you were criss crossed on the bed, facing him. you sighed. “school is just stressing me out. i don’t feel smart enough with all these kids in my classes with their whole lives planned out, meanwhile i can’t even do math.” you fiddled with your fingers nervously, chewing on your lip as you tried not to let stress get the best of you.

“i think you’re the smartest girl i know,” alex blurted, eyes immediately darting away from yours, his smile faint and shy.

you raised your eyebrows, smiling softly, your cheeks a bit flushed. “you’ve got to be kidding. i’ve got like 3 C’s and 2 D’s at the moment.”

he shook his head, lifting his gaze back up to you. “no seriously, i hear you talk about art, music, the things you love. grades don’t make up your intelligence, you’re so smart and i bet you’re a hell of a lot cooler than those people in your classes.”

the blue light in his eyes shimmered and glistened back at you. you smiled. “really?” you whispered. alex shrugged with a quick nod, smiling shyly. a calm silence filled the air between you, the open window wind blowing your hair slightly.

your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips, quickly redirecting back up. your heart hammered in your chest. you quickly looked at the wall behind him. “can i tell you something?” he spoke softly. you nodded.

“you’re so pretty.”

your breath hitched in your throat. all these years of knowing him he was always the quiet, nervous type. he avoided eye contact when he spoke, his tone sometimes unsure and soft. but not now, no. he looked directly into your eyes, blue light twinkling. he was so sure of his words that he even smiled a bit when he said it.

it was scary how much it reminded you of when you met him, when your bike gear broke off in front of his house. you’d smashed against the concrete, knee scraped and bleeding. you were only 15 at the time, choking back tears when he’d scrambled outside, asking if you were alright. thankfully he hadn’t seen the fall, just you holding your bloody knee, sitting on the concrete with tears in your eyes.

his parents hadn’t been home. he’d let you in, helping you clean your knee, getting you water. you’d seen a strokes cd sitting on his counter, pointing it out. this had morphed into a lengthy conversation discussing music, films, and books. turns out you two had a lot in common, you found yourself opening up to him a lot easier than other kids your age. talking to him didn’t feel awkward or torturous, it was quite the opposite. “i think you’re the coolest girl i’ve ever met,” he’d said to you, so sure, so confident. he even smiled, his small grin identical to the one he flashed at you now.

his gaze remained set on yours even in the brief silence after. you smiled, your heart pounding. a storm rolled through alex’s gaze, his dark eyes misty and soft. you could hear your frequent pants, your loud heartbeat in the silence. you didn’t even realize how quickly the space between was being filled, how you could now feel his warm breath on your cheek, how his fingertips danced on your waist, thumbs tracing slow, calculated circles on the skin where your shirt rode up.

your mind raced, but it was dreamlike, like when you try to run but your limbs just won’t move right, or gravity has become sticky and languid, pushing you in place and leaving you with only your frantic pulse. the blue light, that little glimmer of reflection in his dark eyes transfixed you, pulling you in like a deep cerulean ocean, the thrum of your heart diving down into the murky depths, engulfed by the waves.

a loud boom of thunder rolled up from the ground, followed by a soft patter of rain, gradually getting louder as the sweet, humid rendolence drifted in through the window, filling the room with a chill. you sat up quickly, startled as you turned around, mumbling a nervous, “better close the window.”

you weren’t even thinking too much, letting your instincts get the best of you. quickly, alex grasped at your waist, gently turning you to face him. his hand cradled your cheek, eyes burning into yours with a roaring intensity and fervor that made you weak. the deepest, sweetest thoughts broke in from your subconscious, realizations and quiet whispers filling your soft heart.

your mind raced but all you saw was scraped knees, a stack of cd’s dedicated to ‘the coolest girl i know,’ shared candy on the front porch, secret song lyrics that weren’t supposed to be done yet, fidgety hands that held yours, shared headphones on a long train ride, a blue light in his room, a blue light in his eyes.

before your heartbeat could even begin to slow, before you could even form words or questions or sentences, his lips were pressed against yours.

———

hi! thank you so much for reading, let me know how you liked it, i always love reading comments. i truly am sorry for my absence but i’m glad to be back, hope this made up for it 🫶

taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @goblinontour @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kittyrob0t @averyzversi0n @michelleisheres-blog @kennedy-brooke @madeinuk @mathdebate00

[beevean]

Unpopular opinion Act 2: in addition to being underrated in the traditional sense, a lot of the criticism directed towards Infinite also falls flat in light of Surge's fandom. They can say Infinite was all bark, but who was it that tripped over herself, consistently failed to beat Sonic even once despite being hyped up as Starline's masterpiece, and needed a hackneyed "OMG she killed Sonic for a split second!" Game Theory to be passed off as credible?

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

Both Infinite and Surge are over-the-top edgy, sadistic bullies, and a tragic backstory that involves artificial manipulation and is even a bit confusing. Both of them have friction with their master. Both of them are said to be powerful, but got often defeated, going against the hype set for them. Both of them, at the end of the day, were tools.

The only difference is that Surge has a lackey of her own that allegedly she cares about and Stanley really really loves to emphasize the "tragic story" part :P

Personally, I think Infinite is stronger than Surge for multiple reasons:

we actually see his powers, and they're impressive. He beat down Sonic once so severely that Eggman was able to capture him, and there are multiple stages where he traps the playable characters in hallucinations. Why should I be impressed by Surge's puny lightning? She doesn't even do anything cool with it.

Infinite has blood on his hands. Surge could barely cause a traffic accident. Fucking Jewel was more dangerous than her.

Infinite's flaws are intentional and bring his own downfall. He is an arrogant bully underneath his flashy powers. He didn't put much effort in killing his opponents because he believed himself to be superior. Eggman chewed him out for it, and guess what? By the end he got sick of it and dispatched Infinite himself. Surge's patheticness is really, really not intentional, as the story keeps hyping her up.

I'm not expected to cry for him, not even when Shadow beats him up. Sure, Amy feels vaguely sad when she learns that Infinite was created in one of Eggman's bases, but that's about it. Surge goes from flashing her shark teeth to cowering in a dark corner faster than IDW Sonic coming up with a long speech about muh principles

infinite looks hella cool and not like someone sneezed on the table

liam o'brien <3

[ghost-whump]

hello!! I saw requests are open and would be willing to write something with this prompt?

a character goes back in time and finds their enemy being tortured. now everything they knew that happens in the future makes sense and the situation provides some much needed context to fill in the gaps…the only thing is, after rescuing their future enemy from the torture, their enemy has now devoted their loyalty to their rescuer.

(@whumpwillow)

hi!! this ask was apparently sent last year, but it had not appeared in my ask box until now…

but i’ll try my best almost a year later! buckle up, it’s a long one.

Monster

Villain was a tough person. Angry at the world and at Hero, specifically. They’d been hell bent on destroying the planet (a bit clichéd, if you asked Hero, but fair) for so long and with such passion, that Hero had gotten curious.

As a government employee, they had access to the top secret time machine. One thing leads to another and then,

“Please! I’m begging you, please…”

Villain, albeit a much younger version, kneeled on the floor. They couldn’t have been much older than a teenager, lanky and pale. Dressed in dirtied and torn clothes that were clearly much too small, Villain clutched onto the legs of a woman that stood over them.

“I’m sorry, r-really, I am. I’ll be good and quiet and I won’t hurt anything ever again, I promise! Let me out, for just a minute, please, I-!”

They were cut off with a sharp slap. Hero held back a gasp. Though they stood in a dark corner, obscured from both of their views, they couldn’t help but feel too close to the scene. Like they were watching something they shouldn’t.

The woman kicked her foot, sending Villain onto the cement floor with cry.

“Don’t touch me, rat!” She held aloft a tin can, labeled as a vague mystery meat. The kind one would keep in apocalypse rations or a weird, evil boot camp. It didn’t look appetizing. As if she just stepped in a sticky puddle, the woman soured, “I’ve told you not to talk me like that. You know you don’t deserve my mercy. Not until you get better.”

Villain whimpered and held their cheek. “Sorry… I…” They scooted backwards into the wall.

The woman, stepping forward into the dim light of the room, placed the can on its side and lightly kicked it in Villain’s direction. It rolled until hit their shin, but they didn’t pick it up. Watery eyes stared at it, fingers twitching, but made no move to pick it up.

At first, Hero thought they might be afraid of it.

Villain looked up at the woman, then back at the can.

With a small grin, the woman said, “Good boy… Good restraint.” Then, silence. It dragged on for a minute, maybe more. “You can have it now.”

Villain lunged for the can, which had rolled away a little. They clutched it with shaking hands, pulling it close to their chest. Barely above a whisper, they mumbled, “Thank you, Mom.”

Spinning on her heel, the woman stormed off. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your mother,” She spat, “Not anymore.”

Her steps retreated as she ascended a flight of stairs, confirmed Hero’s theory that they were in a basement. Their attention was turned back to Villain at the sound of growling. Expecting a wild animal or beast, they were shocked to discover that it actually came from the teenager in the room. They had the can in their hands and teeth, trying to gnaw it open.

While Villain did… that… Hero’s eyes wandered the room. In the opposite corner was a worn and stained twin mattress, a thin blanket, and a pile of identical empty mystery meat cans. None have been opened the proper way, all are smashed, chewed, or other variously destroyed states.

Hero couldn’t help but think, as would anyone, “Poor Villain.”

They couldn’t just stand around and watch them struggle.

Cautiously, remembering that this Villain we’re talking about, Hero stepped out of the shadows. When the kid didn’t look up, they softly cleared their throat.

Villain’s eyes jumped up, scrambling back. They held the can, now slightly dented, like a weapon. “Who— Who are y-you? Get out of h-here!”

“It’s okay. My name is Hero, I’m here to help you.” They held their hands up, palms open. They’re no threat.

“N-no. You have to get away… You- You… I’ll hurt you! You can’t be here, i-it’s not allowed!” With a cry, they hurled the can at Hero, who reflexively caught it mid-flight.

Considering the can, rolling it over in their hand a few times, Hero appraised the damage. “Here, I’ll open this for you.”

Under Villain’s watchful glare, Hero reached into their pockets and pulled out a knife. They didn’t miss the whimper that came across the room at the sight. Stabbing the lid of the can, they jimmied it off with relative ease. Not a perfect cut, like they’d get with a can opener, but not bad.

Hero lowered to the floor, placing the can down. There was still a good ten-feet of distance between them, so they slid it across the floor. Villain snatched it and used their hands to shovel the mushy brown slop into their mouth. Between bites, they briefly looked back up at Hero. “Thanks,” They grunted.

“Yeah. It’s the least I could do.”

A minute passed in silence, occasionally broken by the horrible sounds of Villain devouring the meat like a wild animal.

“Do you want to talk to me now?” Hero asked, taking the smallest step closer.

Taking a pause from licking the inside of the can, “What?”

“Why are you here, I mean. Forgive me for saying this, but a dirty basement isn’t exactly the place to keep a teenager.”

Villain curled their knees to their chest, placing the can woefully beside them. “Why do you care? I don’t even — I don’t even know who you are.”

“I’m Hero. And you’re Villain. I know more about you than you think.”

“‘Hero’ is a stupid name.”

They grimaced. Charming as ever. “You’ll come around to it.”

Villain crawled over to their bed. They deposited the can with the others and flopped onto the mattress. It seemed to hurt them. “If you’re going to do something, would you just get it over with? I’m tired.”

“…”

“Well? Does a kid with an attitude not get your rocks off? Need something less mouthy?” They commented with a sneer.

“Why would I-” Hero cut themselves off, feeling even grosser than they did before. They steeled their face and pressed on. “Look, I’m just going to get you out of here. I don’t care about an attitude or why you’re down here, this isn’t right.”

Villain chuckled, “Good luck. I can’t leave here. It’s not allowed.”

“Why isn’t it allowed?” They questioned, taking another step closer. They were nearly at the foot of the bed.

“‘Cus I’m a monster,” Villain spat, grimacing at the word. “I hurt things, I just can’t stop myself. Animals, people, whatever. I’m not allowed outside because I’ll kill something, like I killed my sister.” Their voice got quieter as they spoke, less and less snarky with each passing moment. “Besides,” they sniffed, “I don’t even want to leave. I have everything I need here.”

Hero nodded along, contemplating. “Then why did you beg your mother to leave?”

Villain blanched. “That’s… That’s not…”

Without further prompting, Hero bent down and plucked Villain off the ground with surprising ease. The kid was light as a feather. The kid yelped but didn’t struggle. “Nope. You’re coming with me. No arguments.”

This was probably not the smartest decision Hero had ever made. Damned the consequences, the timeline, whatever. Hero took an oath to protect those in need and, well, Villain seemed pretty in need.

They pressed a few buttons on the time-machine on their wrist and in a flash of light, they were thrust forward in time.

The weight of Villain was gone from their arms, causing them to panic. They were supposed to be coming with them, but they just disappeared!? What happened, what —

“Welcome back, Hero!”

They stumbled, losing their balance from the jump. A hard grabbed their arm, keeping them steady. Hero looked up at this stranger. They didn’t have any assistants, there shouldn’t be anyone here, there can’t be…

It’s them, with shorter hair and rectangular glasses, they wore a lab coat and held a clipboard. But this was…

“Are you alright, Hero? It’s me, Villain.”

woof, that’s a long one. i wasn’t sure if i was going to finish it. once again, sorry it’s been like a year (unless it’s new and tumblr is wigging out on me) but i hope this is done to a good degree.

thanks for reading :]

General Tag: @morning-star-whump

[saints-who-never-existed]

Davechella Week 12: Hickey

In contrast to Goodsir's, this one was stunningly easy? I already listen to a lot of stuff that I felt fit the vibe and by the time I'd finished cherry-picking through my existing playlists, Hickey's turned out to be three times as long as everyone else's and needed significant editing down. How very Dave K.-coded of me, I guess?!

Ten Feet Tall - The Devil Makes Three Well, you walk around this town like it's holy land/ You got good-looking friends, you're a sharp-dressed man/ Been gettin' big, makin' me look small/ It don't matter to me, 'cause I'm a-ten feet, a-ten feet tall/ Yeah, it don't matter to me, 'cause I'm a-ten feet, a-ten feet tall Take a look at your foot, does it fit this shoe?/ Did you really ever think I gave a damn 'bout you?/ You ain't no messiah with your fancy friends/ So get your head out of the clouds/ And get your feet back in the dirt, my friend

Blood of Angels - Brown Bird I drank the blood of angels from a bottle/ Just to see if I could call the lightning down/ It hasn't struck me yet, and I would wage my soul to bet/ That there ain't no one throwing lightning anyhow Too many tries at tempting fate to call it over/ And you get to thinking fate's got different plans/ Like maybe, I'm not born to die but to bring darkness to the sky/ Pull that goddamn sun down anyway I can You could be right, they might come for me at night/ In angry mobs with torches bright outside my door/ For all my spite, I might never win the fight/ But I will rage against the light forever more

Ballad of a Prodigal Son - Lincoln Durham Two plus two ain't always four/ And sometimes black ends up white/ And there's a million shades of gray in between/ When you manage to shed a little light Whoa/ In the valley of the bones/ Whoa/ They're gonna rise up and head on home I've been in every patchwork revival tent from here to yon/ So brothers don't you recognize your own kin?/ I have returned like a prodigal son

Loverman - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds Loverman! Here I stand/ Forever, Amen/ Cause I am what I am what I am what I am/ Forgive me, baby my hands are tied/ And I got no choice/ No, I got no choice at all I’ll say it again L is for LOVE, baby O is for O yes I do V is for loving VIRTUE, so I ain’t gonna hurt you E is for EVEN if you want me to R is for RENDER unto me, baby M is for that which is MINE A is for ANY old how, darling N is for ANY old time I’ll be your Loverman! I got a masterplan/ To take off your dress/ And be your man/ Seize the throne/ Seize the mantle/ Seize the crown/ Cause I am what I am what I am what I am/ I’m your Loverman

Hunt You Down - The Hit House I don't bring forgiveness/ I don't bring peace/ I've come to slay you/ Come to kill the beast I'll search the shadows/ You wear like a crown/ You know it's coming/ And I'm gonna hunt you down You can run/ You can hide/ You can pray/ But I'm gonna cut you down

Paris is Burning - St Vincent Enclosed in this letter there's a picture/ Black and white for your refrigerator/ Sticks and stones have made me smarter/ It's words that cut me under my armor They say, "I'm on your side/ When nobody is, 'cause nobody is/ Come sit right here and sleep/ While I slip poison in your ear"

Cold Bread - Johnny Flynn I can live with dying/ I can chew my bit/ Play panic to my senses/ And hijack my head/ It's the rhythm of moving/ And a rolling and a rattle/ Its a giving instead/ It's a well sprung bed We can roll around forever/ We can pray for all we've been/ We can knock it hell for leather/ We can call it all a dream/ All a dream Cold bread/ Cold bread/ We had

Maneater - Blue Eyed Blondes Then he tried to escape me, but I was far ahead/ I found a knife and took his life, oh god, how much he bled And then I cut him up in pieces, my handsome charming midge/ I sorted him in big black bags, and put him in the fridge/ Now I am a man-eater, in more than just one way/ He tastes like pig, but that's okay, I eat him every day Well, I know I had it coming, I knew I was a fool/ Cause he really made me trust him, and he really made me drool/ He made me feel important, he knew just what to say/ But you can bet your ass I really made him pay

Rats - Sunday Driver You've got an infinite disguise/ You've got the lights I won't believe/ Oh, say it to me again/ I'll watch the wide world working on a wide screen right before my eyes/ Round and around and around and around on the wheel We are the rats that run in the subway/ We are the mice that shoot the revolving doors deep down/ In the bowels of the earth underground/ Licking up the blood on the floor

Blackhole - Rachel Sermanni Even the soul can not resist would swallow the earth just for a kiss/ There's no hope there's no hope there's no hope we'll survive this/ Its a scary place to be but inevitably were gonna have to bite/ We know that we cannot see that we are walking into dark without a light We must inhabit all of the shadows/ We must crawl in to all the caves, we need to listen for the echoes/ For maybe someday, somebody is saved, somebody is saved You cannot stop it You will not stop If there were choices we might step off Its the fly by or a collision not our decision not ours to know/ Not ours to know This is a love song for a black hole/ These are the last remaining words, before we lose all self control

[wrathofrats]

Day 19: confessions - mist and aether talking about dews transition. Aether thinks she hates him, she doesn’t, and they talk about their feelings

It helps to read this piece and some of the stuff in #wrath’s ghost lore before hand, but it’s not necessary. Just know aether did dews transition.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows as always for this month <3

Warnings for small talks of mortality, it’s kinda angsty but I made it better so.

“How did you-“

“Dewdrop” aether interrupted.

Mist sat under one of the old concrete arches that decorated the back of an abandoned chapel. One of the little ones that primo had used before the clergy grew out of it. Let sit to gather vines and moss. Leaves decorated the pillars, the walkway was full of cracks and so overgrown that it was almost hard to follow.

There was a sense of tranquility in the chaos. The fresh smell of plants and old water that had seeped into the grooves of the concrete made mist feel at ease, nothing to order her around, nothing to remind her of the strict order she was to follow when in front of the other siblings.

“He’s such a snitch” mist snorted. She patted the ground next to her, motioning for aether to join her.

“He told me what happened” aether sighed, leaning back against the structure. He jumped slightly at the cool feeling on his back, before settling in completely.

“How much?”

“Said you went off on him. That you were upset he actually changed his element”

Mist cringed. She brought her knees tight to her chest as dewdrops jacket now felt shameful around her shoulders. Part of her almost wanted to just get up and walk away to avoid the confrontation. She knew dew probably told aether what she said about him, that she had partially blamed him. Words spat in the heat of the moment begging dew just to look at her.

“He told me what you said”

“I’m sure aethers real pleased with his work this time” mist bit

“If omega of all ghouls can fuck up did you really expect me to trust aether?”

“Aether I-“ mist choked. She cringed remembering her own words, bitter tasting in her mouth now that the target of her anger sat next to her.

“Don’t, I understand why you’re upset,” he sighed. The air felt thick around them, a heavy cold that encapsulated them both as the sun went down.

“Yeah but I’m not upset with you”

Mist doesn’t know who she’s upset with if she’s being honest. Maybe herself for feeling betrayed even if dew didn’t pick pride over an animalistic fate like she did. Maybe papa for letting her choose her own reality of not transitioning. Maybe whatever sick divine being cursed them to be like this. None of her feelings seem correct. She couldn’t pick an answer on what’s appropriate to feel about this even if she tried.

“No one seems to be. I kinda hoped you were the one to actually see through this bullshit " Aether threw his head back to rest against the wall, staring up at the dark patches of algae on the top of the arch.

“What do you mean? No one should be mad at you aeth”

“I did that to him, I ruined him”

“You saved him.” Mist turned to face him, a concerned look on her face. A gust of wind cut against the tears in her eyes, making her realize that she had once again started crying.

“He’s not himself anymore mist, so does it even matter?”

Aether sighed, chewing his lip in frustration. The lingering light of the sunset cast a cold shadow on him making him shiver as he moved to stand up.

“He’s more himself than he ever was” mist practically whispered. She gave him a pleading look, motioning him to continue to sit with her.

“He won’t even look at you mist”

“But that’s always been dew. He’s had a fiery personality since he was summoned. I could’ve used his favorite cup and he would’ve ignored me for hours over it”

Aether stopped to stare at her, a puzzled look in his eye.

“I would give anything for him to just talk to me, but that’s my fault anyways. He’s always been a volatile bundle of emotions, it’s just fitting he now has the element to match” she laughed.

There was a rare crack in her pride that made her feel solemn. Asking if she herself made the right decision to stay a water ghoul. The choice between staying true to herself and succumbing to a natural fate or potentially becoming a botched version of herself that was barely mist anymore.

Dew was thriving. He had his scars and sudden outbursts that weren’t exactly there before, but he was happy, and that’s all mist needed to care about.

“I just don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself” aether mumbled, sitting closer to mist while she wrapped the small jacket around his shoulders.

“You will. One day you’ll see how bright his smile has gotten and you’ll realize it was worth it.”

[shadowphoenixrider]

Tonight Part 1

(Shadow and Gambit have been left alone in the X-Mansion for the first time, and it predictably culminates in a night of passion that neither will soon forget. Indeed, it might change everything... So yeah this is a smut fic, nsfw as as you pass that cut. Had to be split into two because these two got very handsy with each other. Hope you enjoy!)

For the first time I can remember since I came to the X-Mansion, the place was almost empty. The Professor and Beast were at a conference, Jubilee out late with a group of friends and everyone else out on missions.

Well, all but one. Gambit had recently come back from a solo op, and he was now off rotation for a little while. We hadn't seen much of each other for a bit - I was on mission support for the others and he'd been resting, although every now and again a mug of tea would appear for me, and the old empty mug would vanish. I greatly appreciated it.

Things had been mercifully quiet this evening, enough that I'd dressed down - a thin navy-blue Star Wars shirt, lighter blue jeans, and some colourful rainbow socks - and I decided to take some time to rest in my room and catch up with the reading I'd been meaning to do for...quite a while now.

As I was about to make the turn down the hallway to my dorm, I heard something. It sounded like a grunt, or a groan? I concentrated, using my powers to try and sharpen my hearing - it was definitely Gambit's voice, although I couldn't quite work out anything more than that.

Curiosity immediately got the better of me, and I took the opposite hallway, leading down towards the guys' dorms. Gambit's door was ajar, light spilling from the threshold. And that was when I heard it.

"Mmmm, chérie..."

Oh.

I froze mid-step, heat flashing white-hot into my face and chest. I hadn't heard that, right? It was just my imagination. He couldn't be - even if it was just us in the mansion, he wouldn't. Right?

Another lusty moan from the open door answered those questions, deepening the blush that was surely growing on my face. And now I was concentrating, I could hear the rhythmic slick sounds of a hand on lubed skin.

I should go, was my first thought - what Gambit did in his bedroom was his own business, and I shouldn't be eavesdropping. My second thought, however; I have to close his door. Either Gambit hadn't noticed it drift open or didn't think I'd be up here at this time - regardless, it'd be the decent thing to do, if only to spare future blushes and nasty surprises.

Curiosity definitely had nothing to do with it.

Yet another moan sounded out with a smattering of Cajun French, and I had to ignore the heat it sent to my core, the throb between my legs. He's not jacking it to you, just close the door! I told myself, edging forward.

That was when the floorboard creaked. Thankfully, the Cajun seemed so engrossed with himself that he didn't hear it, and I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Taking even more care now, I slid my feet across the floor, testing the boards before I moved my weight onto them. Moving inch by painfully slow inch left me to listen Gambit's pleasure, and I tried to pretend it wasn't kindling arousal within me, imagining myself as his chérie.

Sure, he definitely had a thing for me, that much was obvious when he'd gotten his hand on my backside that one time - but it couldn't be me he was thinking about. Surely not when Rogue and Storm existed.

As I drew closer to the door, I realized a problem - to close it, I'd have reach over, exposing myself in that strip of light emanating from the room. Whilst Gambit might not be able to notice creaking floorboards, he would definitely sense movement, especially when I pushed the door closed.

Shit. I chewed my lip, warring with myself and trying not to rub my thighs together at the sounds I could clearly hear just the other side of the wall. God, he sounded so good, and my mind eagerly supplied me with images of what he was doing.

I stepped back, pressing my back against the wall and uttering a shuddery breath. I should walk away, leave him to it. But temptation whispered another idea into my ear - a stupid one, something I shouldn't have entertained. And yet...desire had been building under my skin a while now, and we were completely alone. Would I ever get another perfect chance like this again?

My hand was on my clothed mound before I could start second-guessing myself, breathing out a silent sigh of relief. I rocked my hips into my hand, already feeling the heat gathered there.

"Yess chérie, just like dat." Gambit moaned, sparks flashing into my chest, and I arched my back slightly. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend he was speaking to me, moaning into my ear. I tried to keep my hands above my clothes, riding the rough friction of my jean's seam. Yet the sounds of his pleasure, his heavy breathing were so heady, so addicting, it would be so easy to give in. Pretend I was putting on a show for him, like he had tempted me with before.

"Ya make Gambit feel so good..." He groaned lowly, and my breath hitched, a hand jumping to a breast to squeeze it. "Dat's it chérie, don't stop!"

Touching over my jeans was no longer enough; to my shame I didn't even hesitate before my hand was diving past my belt and pressing into the soft fabric of my panties. Already they were damp with my arousal, and a part of me distantly cursed the Cajun mutant for this state of affairs. Not that it mattered now, pressing my finger into my clit and finding a nice rocking rhythm with my hips. I thanked the gods it was easy for me to stay quiet, hoping my heavy breathing was lost in Gambit's own euphoria.

"Nngh, nearly there..." He grunted, his breathing becoming more ragged, the sounds of his movements quickening, and I basked in them, letting my mind's eye run wild imagining what he was doing. I rolled my head back against the wall, silently chanting his name in my head to stave off the intense need to cross that last barrier between me and the pure pleasure I could give myself.

Suddenly, Gambit came with a growling shout, lancing me with pure white-hot arousal that made me gasp, pulsing powerful in my loins. Swiftly followed by the ice-cold drenching realization that he was done, and I was miles from the finish line. Outside his door. With my hand down my pants. Oh, fuck.

His next moan was softer, a sigh of relief. I barely dared to breathe, least I miss the slightest noise. Fabric hissed against skin; bedsprings creaked as weight shifted. A floorboard groaned, then another, approaching the door. I screwed my eyes shut.

Nothing, for a long moment. My heart pounded in my ears. Then the door hinge squeaked. My skin crawled, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end; the sensation that something - or someone - was looking at me. I held my breath - the corridor was almost pitch black. If I didn't move, maybe he wouldn't-

"Havin' fun dere, Shadow?" Gambit drawled wickedly, and the heat that rose into my face now was of mortifying embarrassment.

I released the breath I'd been holding, cracking my eyes open to see the Cajun leaning against the doorframe, apparently clad only in his pink crop top, the rest of his body out of view.

"I-I'm sorry Gambit, I didn't mean to, I just, I was gonna close your door!" I stuttered, guiltily withdrawing my hand from my trousers. I was certainly blushing now, even more so when his dark eyes flicked down to my movement, his grin widening.

"But you decided to listen to Gambit first? You flatter me, mon amie." He commented slyly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, straightening up.

"You're the one jacking off with your door open!"

He just quirked an eyebrow up at me.

"No-one gon' be back here for a while, petite. There's just you and Gambit in dis place." His grin showed teeth. "An' Gambit don't mind you hearin' him, chère..."

My heart skipped an entire beat, and I choked on my breath.

"Y-You did this on purpose?!" I spluttered.

To his credit, Gambit did look contrite, his own flush forming on the top of his cheek bones.

"N-No, not specifically." He looked away towards the far more interesting doorjamb, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't know you'd be able to hear me down here..." He glanced back, looking strangely shy. "Meant I said 'bout not mindin' you hearin', though."

I wasn't sure what to think, my blush still hot on my face. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised, with us getting hot and heavy with one another only a couple of days back, and all the flirting, sly looks, and even slyer innuendoes we'd traded between one another. Yet, facing the culmination of all those insinuations straight on made us both oddly gun-shy.

As the awkward silence stretched on, Gambit cleared his throat.

"So, uh, how long you been out here?" He asked. Despite myself, my blush deepened.

"Long enough to get hot and bothered." I watched his face carefully. "But not enough to finsh."

His already wide pupils dilated more, the true emotion behind the confident smirk he gave me.

"Reckoned so, since ya still had ya hand in ya pants." He replied, leaning closer and his voice dropping to a deeper tone. "Want Gambit to help ya wit that?"

Tight heat curled in my chest, an electric shiver shooting up my spine.

"Well," I stepped towards him, "you were the one who got me into this situation."

Gambit grinned widely, and I swore his crimson eyes flashed with excitement.

"Exactly my thinkin', chère." He pushed the door open, beckoning with his finger. "Come on in. Let Gambit take care of you..."

I grinned back, ignoring the throb between my thighs and the fever pitch of excitement buzzing under my skin. Was this really happening?

As I stepped over the threshold into his room, I saw that my initial suspicion was correct - the Cajun was naked from the waist down, and it took more discipline than I'd like to admit to not stop and gawp at his toned muscled body.

Gambit pulled the door closed behind me, and I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, so now you want some privacy?" I commented wryly.

His grin mirrored mine as he closed the gap between us, a slight enticing sway to his hips. For once, it was considerably difficult to keep my eyes on his.

"Of course, mon amie. Don't want anyone disturbin' us, non?" He said smoothly, one brow lifting slightly.

"But disturbing you jacking off is fine?" I asked archly, placing a hand on my hip.

"Gambit can finish up before someone comes home." He replied, taking another step closer, lowering his head toward my ear. "But we might take a little longer, don't ya think?"

My back shivered, and I took a breath, inhaling his scent; sweat, spice and something sweetly masculine I could never adequately quantify.

"Sounds like you want to keep me for yourself tonight." Was my breathy reply.

His eyes darkened, an eager grin playing on his lips.

"You don't seem to mind..." His voice lowered to a sensual rumble, passion stirring within him.

"No." I admitted, before I smirked up at him, quickly reaching around his waist to grab handfuls of his muscled ass, squeezing firmly. "I don't."

Gambit's pleased groan was music to my ears, and I felt his cock twitch between us.

"Mmm, you've no idea how long I've wanted to get my hands on you, Cajun." I purred, squeezing again. He rewarded me with a satisfied grunt. "You're such a damn tease."

"Takes one to know one, mon amie." He growled in my ear. "Why ya think Gambit needin' to take care of himself?"

My heart skipped a beat, sparking heat in my chest. I pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.

"You were thinking of me?" I asked, a blush rising on my face once again.

One of his eyebrows lifted slightly, a sly grin growing across his lips.

"Yes, chère." He purred sensually. "Gambit been thinkin' of all the things he wants to do to you..."

His grin only widened when he saw me shudder with delight, heat curling low in my body.

"And what do you want to do to me...?" I asked, feeling a little breathless as Gambit loomed over me. His chuckle was deep and throaty, full of promise.

"Let Gambit show you, chère." His hand cupped the back of my head before he caught my lips in a kiss.

The gentleness we started out with quickly evaporated when we slanted our mouths against one another, devouring each other hungrily. It became sloppy and frantic, tongues and teeth clacking together and our hands going everywhere, like our leashes had finally snapped and we were trying to do everything all at once.

I dimly remembered stepping backwards, my legs colliding with the bed and toppling us both onto it. Gambit quickly pinned me there, his arousal pressing insistently against my pelvis whilst his hands grasped for something else.

"Non mais!" He cursed. "Why ya gotta wear dis belt?"

My eyes popped open as I heard the familiar buzzing whine of his powers, and saw the pink energy surge from his hands to my belt, quickly encircling it and flaring brightly.

"No!" I cried, sitting bolt upright. "Gambit!"

"It okay chère, Gambit just-"

"Don't." I clasped my hands over his, glaring into his eyes. The warmth of his powers faded as the energy dissipated.

"Gambit jus' gonna loosen it," he said, feigning innocence with wide eyes and a toothy smile, looking at me from under his eyelashes. I raised an eyebrow at him, nonplussed.

"Uh huh, right. How about I take it off like a normal person, and we don't have to explain any awkward explosions to the others?" I said, holding his gaze as I unbuckled the now inert belt.

"Have it your way, chère." Gambit replied, his smile now playful and good-natured. "Gambit just a li'l eager. Been dreamin' of dis a long time."

I couldn't help but smile back at him, leaning forward so our foreheads touched. I swore his cheeks darkened slightly.

"Same here." I spoke softly.

His smile was surprisingly tender, leaning forward to kiss me again.

This one was much gentler than the first, Gambit cupping the back of my head once more, my hands lifting to wrap around his neck, twining my fingers into his ponytail. His other hand settled on my lower back, pressing me a little closer, before it began to rove down and below my loose trousers to cup my ass.

"Just couldn't help yourself, could you?" I sighed, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss with his tongue. Gambit chuckled richly, pressing his forehead back against mine.

"Guilty as charged, chère." He grinned boyishly, a hungry spark in his eyes as he squeezed, delighting in my groan. "Gotta feelin' you don' mind, though."

"Like I said," I smirked at him. "I have a particular liking for you, scoundrel."

Gambit's grin widened, and his hand started to move again, over my hip and down between my thighs. My breath hitched when his fingers pressed into me, and his pupils dilated, darkening his midnight eyes.

"If Gambit knew how much fun you be havin' without him, he'd come help you sooner." He purred, pressing his thumb into my clit, fingers rubbing over the wetness already soaking my underwear.

"Mmm, you sounded so good." I moaned, rocking my hips into his touch. "I'd hate to disturb you."

"For dis? You can disturb Gambit any time, chère." Before I could say anything more, the Cajun kissed me again. Briefly pausing his teasing, he scooped me further up the bed, lifting my feet clear off the floor.

Another passionate kiss to press my back into the sheets, the hand on the back of my head shielding the impact. His other hand took the opportunity to dive beyond the final cloth barrier, and I squirmed when his skin met mine, gasping into his mouth.

"Ahh-! Gambit!"

"I gotchu, chère." He breathed, pressing a softer kiss to my lips, then my jaw. "Hold tight."

I had barely a second to process before his fingers were moving again, sending hot sparks of pure pleasure shooting through my veins. I arched my back, Gambit starting to press kisses against my neck, occasionally grazing my fluttering pulse with his teeth.

My fingers curled into his reddish brunette hair, trying to ground myself amongst the sensations dancing like flames through me. His fingertips traced over me, skimming teasingly close to my entrance as his thumb continued its attentions at my apex. It stoked the molten fire within me, the tight coil winding around in the base of my stomach, and the building emptiness between my thighs. This was good, beyond good, but gods-

"Ga-Gambit, ple-Ease!" I gasped as he bit me, soothing it with his tongue. "I need, I need more, please!"

"Bien sûr, chère." He rumbled softly.

I moaned with relief when his fingers finally entered me, sinking in up to his knuckles. Gambit leaned up to kiss my forehead, giving me time to adapt as he flexed his fingers gently, pushing carefully at my inner walls.

"Doin' alright, Shadow?" He asked. I nodded, caught off guard by the achingly tenderness to his gaze.

"Yeah, yeah. Just been a while since I was with someone."

"Reckoned so. Gambit gonna start slow, take the edge off, okay?"

"Sure." I nodded again, darting up to steal a kiss from him. He chuckled fondly, making my heart flutter.

True to his word, the Cajun began gently, tentatively exploring for spots that made my breath hitch and or wriggle with delight. His red and black eyes watched me with studious intent - so dark there was only a narrow ring of crimson visible in the inky voids.

His restraint only lasted as long as it took for him to become certain he wasn't going to hurt me, and then Gambit was back to turning my nerves into miniature lightning rods, rolling my clit under the pad of his thumb and returning his attentions to my neck. It was all I could do to try and rock my hips to try and match his motions, moans spilling from my lips as he lavished me with open-mouthed kisses and the occasional prick of his teeth, careful not to leave tell-tale marks. At least, not yet.

"Ah, Shadow, such a beautiful voice!" Gambit groaned against my skin, unable to resist one short thrust against my hip.

"Now, now you know what it- aah! What it was like for me, hearing you..." I teased, impressed I was still able to string a sentence together.

"Good thing we alone, den." I felt his grin. "Gambit gonna make sure we get our fill."

The coil in my belly tightened further, tension beginning to gather in my body like storm clouds, almost too much, and yet not enough.

"Fuck, Gambit, I'm nearly there!" I panted.

"Gambit got ya, chérie. Ya doin' so well." He murmured reassuringly between his kisses and bites, his fingers stroking more quickly, almost relentlessly. "Jus' give in, let it take ya."

The coil became tighter, tighter, and then suddenly snapped. I uttered some sort of breathy gasp, arching my back as my orgasm swept through me, a wildfire that lit up every nerve I had into a blaze of ecstasy. I felt my powers respond with it, magnifying my pleasure to the point the world blurred for a moment - I dug my fingers into whatever I could to hold on to myself.

Gambit's movements slowed, helping me ride out the aftershocks, murmuring soft praises in my ear of how beautiful I'd looked, how well I'd done for him, and other little nothings in Cajun French. I sank into the warm wave of relaxation that followed in the wake of my release, dimly realizing that my hand was still tightly curled into Gambit's hair.

"Shit, Remy, sorry." I mumbled, releasing him and rubbing over his scalp. Luckily, I didn't hear any sounds of distress from his body, and Gambit closed his eyes for a moment, uttering a soft sigh as he leaned into my caress.

"It fine, chère." He murmured. "Gambit can take it." When his eyes slid open again, he offered me a small smile, pressing a gentle kiss to my arm.

He carefully slid his fingers out of me, glanced over to make sure I was watching, and then put them straight into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed, uttering such an indecent moan it made me blush (if not suspect he might be playing it up). Gambit took his time to savour the taste of me, only dragging his fingers out of his mouth when he was finished indolently sucking and licking them clean, holding my gaze with hooded eyes.

Interest was already beginning to stir between my legs again at such a display, especially when the bastard licked his lips, a scheme forming in those dark eyes...

(Part 2)

[vajazzly]

day 1: cooking together

kicking off good godfather sirius black fest with a raging new years hangover (the way sirius wouldve wanted) and some post-war sirius lives family feelings !!! @goodgodfathersiriusblack

one month after the battle of hogwarts, islington

When Sirius wakes up, it’s to the smell of bacon.

The Order has finally cleared out of Grimmauld Place, only Harry (and, occasionally, Ron and Hermione) remaining; today it’s just his godson in the house, he remembers. Last night, Harry woke up screaming twice. 

They’re holding it together, or something close to it.

He descends the stairs in his favorite robe, and the smell only gets stronger as he makes his way to the kitchen, vanilla and bacon and coffee. When he finally makes it to the kitchen Harry is standing at the stove, barefoot in his baggy muggle pajamas, the wireless on the counter turned down low, the weather report barely audible over the sizzling of no fewer than three pans.

“If I knew we were having company I’d have put on something more suitable,” Sirius says lightly, taking in the state of the kitchen table; there’s a quiche, and a stack of pancakes so tall it threatens to topple over, and fucking croissants - even when he was a boy he doesn’t think he ever saw a breakfast quite as elaborate as this in this kitchen.

“Sirius!” Harry says, turning around with a wide smile - there are shadows under his eyes, deeper than yesterday (though Sirius didn’t think it possible), and his hair’s even more of a mess than usual. “No company, I just, er…” he seems to take in the spread before him for the first time in its entirety, “Well, I’m tops at breakfast, so I figured I’d put something together. Sit down, bacon’s almost ready, and -”

“Why don’t you let me take over for a bit, hm?” Sirius says, as gently as he can manage. There’s a mostly empty mug of coffee on the counter, and he’d wager it’s not the first. He slides in next to his godson and plucks the spatula from his hand before he can protest.

“But-”

“No buts!”

“I was gonna-”

“Eat some of those croissants? I think that’s an excellent idea!”

Harry glares, and huffs, but eventually swipes his coffee off the counter and sits himself at the table; Sirius lets himself smile when he hears the tell-tale crunching of one of the croissants. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, keeping his tone light, casual.

There’s a pause while Harry chews, then another pause. “Not really.”

“Your mum used to bake when she was stressed,” Sirius says, flipping the bacon. It’s crispier than he likes, but he knows Harry likes his pieces a bit black on the edges. “I never left your parent’s place without about ten tupperwares filled with biscuits and cakes and things during the war - used to give half of it to the old lady next door and pass it off as my own so she wouldn’t file any noise complaints!”

Harry laughs, but is otherwise silent, like he always is when Sirius talks about his parents - like he’s trying to soak up every detail.

“The recipe book was lost with the rest of the house, I’m afraid, but she showed me how to make a few things,” he says. Memories, soft, yellow-tinted slices of the happier moments of his life before Azkaban, are starting to filter back, come into focus. “After we figure out what to do with all of this I can show you, if you like.”

Harry’s smile is wide and sincere, eyes shining. “I’d like that a lot.”

[urativy]

paying it backward

bakugo x oc | soft!bkg, slight angst if u squint, reminiscing, fluff, implied friendship with history, physical intimacy (sfw), friends to lovers something only a little bit more, war arc | wc: 1.9k | a/n: just posting for fun. if anyone's intersted in my oc's lore tho i'd love to yap about her :>

bakugo’s a new kind of vulnerable. unknowingly, kiyomi's allowed an opportunity. 

Bakugo props a socked foot onto the low table in front of the sofa he’s sitting on, a lazy arm draped over the backrest while the other scrolls mindlessly on his phone. The light is impudent despite the brightness being turned all the way low, and the time ticking by the minute perpetually in the corner of his screen makes his eye twitch. 

1:46 in the morning, and the hour is way past his usual bedtime. 

There is no solace in preparation, no matter how many apologies to Izuku he can make, no matter how many baths with his classmates he can splash around in. It all came down to the same fate;

The final part of the war was approaching in a matter of days. 

Katsuki was no stranger to this preparation down to the finest detail. His training regimen was always down pat in every aspect: the foods he ate, his workout split, and of course, his sleeping schedule. All for this.

So why was it that he was so restless when it was most important? 

There was no use in using the effort to force himself to sleep in his dorm room. He knows better than anyone that his bedsheets would just be nothing but tousled in. Now, he finds himself in the common room with all the lights off. Maybe the darkness and lack of stimulation would be enough to bore him to sleep.

Maybe it’s working, or maybe the tiredness dulls his senses just enough, because Katsuki suddenly finds himself flinching when he barely picks up on footsteps approaching. Eyes narrowing, the bat-shaped shadow of his classmate appears by him. When she steps into the kitchen, which is scarcely illuminated by the moonlight, she blinks awake as if she had no time to think on the way over. 

“Oh. Hey.” She addresses him simply before yawning, stretching upward towards the high cabinet. She lazily pulls out a porcelain bowl before searching for her fruits in the fridge. 

He blinks, stunned at the fact that he was not allowed solace here. 

He only lets out a huff to respond, to which she inquires, “Why’re you up so late?”

When he doesn’t reply, she chooses not to press. 

She appears in front of him suddenly, standing in a pause. 

He gruffs, “What?” 

She silently hands him a bowl of fruit. 

He takes it, furrowing his eyebrows as he does so. He focuses on a perfectly ripe blueberry before mumbling under his breath. “Thanks.” He knows he shouldn’t have any sugar so late into the night, but he finds the gratitude anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything when she sits next to him on the sofa. She doesn’t turn the lights on — her sight has probably already adjusted to the dark. He hears her chewing softly, slowly, as if she were deep in thought. 

“You know…” she starts. Her voice is still a hush. “I see you trying.” 

Memories of the week flash through his mind. A hand, outstretched to Midoriya, is what’s most vivid. “f’course I’m tryin’,” he grunts. “When am I not?”

She shakes her head, but he misses it. “No. I mean, like, I see you trying to forgive yourself.” 

He shifts, uncomfortable. She’s always known where to press, how to pry, even if she never realizes it.  When he doesn’t reply, she presses on. “It doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but… when I see you putting in so much effort, it’s just…” She gestures modestly, slightly. “It makes me feel like I need to try harder, too.”

He nods slowly, drinking in her words. He stares hard at the phone in his hands, the screen having turned off from being idle. He exhales tiredly, pressing its button twice to turn it on, then off again. The nerves aren’t imperceptible to her after all. “Don’t know a thing about me, Spots.” 

It stings when he says it, and she chews on her bottom lip before sighing. The small noise barely reaches his ears. “Maybe not. I never got the opportunity to. Keeping me at arm’s length and all.” It’s an awkward admission, but it comes out before she stops herself.

He finds his nose crinkling at that, not expecting such an honest disclosure. He looks away, feeling the heaviness of a certain shame he’s all too familiar with. “‘m sorry…” His voice, usually hard and unforgiving, loses its edge. The sound of it makes her skin prickle. 

“No, I… I didn’t mean it like that.” This unfamiliar vulnerability coming from him isn’t something she’s used to, despite witnessing it consistently this past week.

They sit in silence once more. It’s hard to make conversation when their next assignment is actual war. There’s no room for words, but…

“Do you want to come to my room?” Her eyes trail over to his face slowly, hesitantly. “For old times’ sake?”

Bakugo doesn’t know why he can’t hesitate when he says, “Okay.” 

She’s leading him by the wrist to the girls’ elevator, her fingertips cool over his skin. He isn’t sure if he’s imagining the tingling on his flesh. 

His footsteps move ahead of him. The muscle memory in his legs carries him all the way down the hall. When they arrive, she opens the door with covert silence, a habit so practiced that Katsuki notices. He remembers that it’s probably because of Eijiro. Maybe it’s him, too. 

There’s no room for conversation, and they know this. She tosses the blanket upward, and Bakugo watches it billow into the air as she settles into her mattress. She’s squeezed against the wall, the large expanse of her bed open to him. He feels his body move for him when he climbs onto it, gripping the blankets to pull. He blinks at the pattern of her sheets. She’s changed them since then.

Her body turns as he settles, suddenly stopping to face him with doubt etched in her face. “I just think it might be good… one last time and all, before… you know…” 

He lets out a soft tsk to interrupt her before shaking his head. “You’re getting soft on me.” 

She finds herself frowning lightly. “I can’t help that. Not when it comes to you.”

He freezes. His neck wants to nod, but his bones feel like hard rubber. “It’s been awhile,” is what comes out of his mouth, but it’s not all he meant to say. 

“I wanna say ‘too long,’ but that might be selfish of me. I know you’re busy. You can’t afford to not be.”  

His hands try to busy themselves to process what she means. It really has been too long. When they opt to play with the hem of her shirt loosely, her eyebrows unfurrow when he doesn’t resist the vulnerability. He doesn’t have much to say, but then again, he was never one of many words in the first place. “Yeah.” 

Kiyomi’s the one who nods instead. “I’m guilty, too.” 

Another tired sigh escapes his lips. He finds himself looking at her, really looking at her. A recent, but fading cut covers the constellation of pale freckles by her outer eye. He remembers that one. His fingers dust over it lightly. He doesn’t flinch when Kiyomi scoots into his space, as if the act granted her permission to. Her shoulders tense as he wraps his arms around them all too suddenly. He feels different. Foreign. Like she’s aware that his embrace feels a little more rigid, that the muscles in his biceps tell the age of the time they spent apart. His frame feels larger too, a sign of growth. What has he gone through that she hasn’t been there for? 

She’s been debriefed time and time again, of course;  texts from post-missions, scars to tell the tale. Feeling them underneath her fingertips though, makes it feel like these stories are miles away from her. 

“You’re an entirely new person, Bakugo.” 

His grip tightens reflexively. “No, I’m not. I’ve been here. We see each other every day.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” He feels a warm sigh tickle his collarbones. Her body thaws into his and he lets it. He lets it like he always has been.  

He shakes his head, and the contact of his chin rubs atop her head. White strands of hair graze his neck. 

“Do me a favor, then,” she continues.

“Hm,” he mumbles into her scalp. He inhales, and the memory makes his head spin. Juniper, orris root, and amber. When he closes his eyes, it’s summer again.

She inhales in return, smelling the caramel and salt stirring into his skin. She burrows further into him, to press her face into the same memory. Harvests, training, and study sessions in this very room. “Let me call you by your first name,” she admits more candidly than she means to. A chill runs down his spine nonetheless.

His voice croaks in reply, “My first name.”

“Yes.” The word Katsuki sits in the back of her throat. A frog about to leap. 

There’s a tangent beat in the air. A string of tension so taut, Kiyomi could reach up and pluck it. Katsuki doesn’t know if he wants it to snap. “Earlier, when I said you don’t know a thing about me. It doesn’t mean you can’t. Back then, if you had called me by my name, I…” His eyes flicker downward. His fingers loosen over her shoulders, although his embrace never gives way. 

He barely hears the lilt in her voice when she presses. “You, what?” 

The words tumble out of his mouth. “I wouldn’t have corrected you.”

“Even if I don’t know you,” she echoes, teasingly. 

“Kiyomi,” his voice rumbles. She startles, because he beat her to it. His usual lack of hesitation is instantaneous as it is calculated. “Give me a break, yeah?” She doesn’t have to be looking at him to feel the slightest smile on his face. “I’ve said enough first names this week already.” 

“Katsuki,” she murmurs, tasting his syllables on her tongue. Despite it feeling foreign, it’s something close to home. 

He only hums into her as the air questions the sound, and his voice is carried with a lightheartedness that Kiyomi hadn’t heard in some time.  “What’s this for, anyway? All of a sudden.”

Her lips are pressed, pointing downward. Her silence is enough for him to guess. 

“If this is about not having any regrets, save it. I don’t plan on losing.”

“Do you ever?”

He exhales through his nose, moving a hand down her cheek. His thumb skirts along the highpoint of her cheekbone, before letting his fingers cradle her chin. When he gently pries her face towards him, his next words are a warm breath on her lips. 

“I’m serious, idiot. I never say that just to say that.” 

She knocks her forehead against his in the dark. “Too soon, then?” 

The both of her hands lie hesitantly against his chest as she’s pressed against him. Bakugo wraps his fingers around her wrists, and tugs them even closer to himself. “No. Now sleep.”

She nods, forehead still nudging against his. 

There’s so much to be said, but perhaps there was no need for any of it to be. Like the old days, with their bodies nestled close — it’s the actions doing all the talking. Now that she’s no longer restless, she allows herself to still. They let the sounds of their mingled breaths carry them to slumber.

[lollipencil]

In The Pale Moonlight

Ok, so I was going about my day, then I saw this. And I just knew it would not leave me alone unless I did this. So, @harleyification I did a thing with your thing. Hope you don't mind. Everyone else, enjoy and be gentle.

---

Thunder cracked loud enough to made the windows shudder. But that was not what woke Steven Grant up. The answer alluded him as usual, but not its source. "Marc," he softly called out, tears still trickling in thin streams down onto the bum bag acting as his pillow. No reply.

Sitting up, he blearily checked the watch Jake had found and managed to get working. 10:26 eventually came in focus. A sigh synced with a gust of wind that russled the tarp acting as a blanket.

"I'm up," Steven said into the seemingly empty warehouse, "I'm up." Shaking the stiffness out of his legs, Steven winced as his stomach complained: "Did we eat before sleeping?" "Somewhat," came the familar echoing voice of Khonshu, "three medium salted crackers and a... 'babyccino'." "Well, it's better than yesterday." "There are five of the crackers in the front pouch." Sighing half in contentment half in reluctent acceptence, Steven pulled two out of the pocket.

It had been a while since any of them had eaten a full meal, let alone three of them in a single day. Ever since arriving in Gotham. Jake and Marc had swore to him that they also had no memory of running away to Gotham, they had implied that they had plenty of reason to run away (something which, combined with the knowledge of having to share a body, took a while to digest), but hadn't actually done it. Steven suspected Khonshu had something to do with it.

Silently, he chewed as Khonshu made himself visible, seated on a dented barrel in front of him. "So," Steven began once finished, "We heading out?" "Indeed." At his very thought, Steven's suit hid their tatty hoodie and jeans from sight. "Best not keep everyone waiting then."

The first thing that he saw was the bat-signal lighting up the sky where the moon would normally be. "Looks like the big bad bat's about," Jake piped up, "Think we might got a cookie from him?" "More like a scolding," Marc added, still sounding a bit choked up. For most of the evening, nothing out of the ordinary happened. None of Batman's rouges was so much as faintly heard as they patroled, only low-level goons and muggers. Marc and Jake saw no reason to step in, Jake even falling back asleep as Steven dealt with a girl more nervous than her attempted victim.

Until midnight.

Two men cornering a kid in an alley. Only the tuff of dark hair was visible from behind their backs. Taking them out was the easiest thing that night; thrown pole for one, a punch for the other. "Hey," Steven soothed once he noticed the kid had used the distraction to hid behind a bin, taking off the suit, "It's ok. They're out cold. You got a phone to-?"

The kid had stepped out with a look of awe. Dressed in a domino mask and with a very notable traffic light colour scheme. "He's so little," Marc breathed, haunted by a similar image. "I haven't seen you before," Robin said with a wide grin, "Who are you? How'd you do that with the eyes and the white suit? Can you teach me the thing with the poles? How's Gotham treating you?" The rapid-fire questions suddenly stopped as Robin pulled out his phone and sent off a text before blinking back up at Steven: "Someone will pick these guys up when they can. You hungry?"

Steven almost said no. Then Khonshu appeared from the shadows behind Robin. He nodded. Which is how, just after midnight, Steven found himself following Robin into a all night diner with the promise of a burger.

"It's on me," Robin had assured before going in, showing a wad of cash discreetly. "Um, yes, hello? We would like two burgers. Uh, please?" Steven awkwardly ordered as Robin smiled by his side. If the sight of Robin standing and ordering food with a random boy was strange to the cashier, he hid it well behind a bored expression. "Do you want fries with that?" "Um, hold on, give me a sec," Steven ruffled about his pocket. The familer shard of mirror, edges blunted by duct tape, showed Marc waiting in his reflection. "What do I do?" Steven whispered to him. "Get the fries. You'll need the energy in the coming days," came the rather dramatic reply. "Yes, please," Steven turned his attention back to the cashier, not noticing Robin's expression, "the fries would be great."

The rain had finally started when their food came out. Jake crawled up near the front as the plate was set down in the table while Marc slinked away. "So," Robin popped a fry into his mouth, "Powers?" "Yeah, that's one way of putting it," Steven forwent decorum and went for the biggest bite he could. "What would be the other way?" Robin said around a smaller bite of his own.

Steven swallowed and thought. "What do you know about the egyptian gods?" he eventually asked. "I know that there were a lot of them," Robin slowly, almost shamefully, replied. "Well, a long, long, long time ago, they ruled in the open. And when they did, it was common practice to take up a avatar. Someone to carry out their will on this realm." "Like a butler?" Robin asked. "Yeah, close enough," Steven nodded between bites, "Priest would be closer, actually. Spreading the word and all that. After Egypt stopped worshipping them, most withdrew from humanity." "Most?"

For a moment, that night felt like it had just happened. Blood leaking through clenched fists, and a voice offering a deal. A promise for a promise. "All but one," Steven finally said, letting his eyes glow with power, "People still travel by night, and Khonshu refused to leave them unprotected. Even when it led to him being banished."

Silence stayed with them after that. Somehow, Steven managed to eat the whole burger plus some fries, with Robin happily picking up his slack on that front. A ping shattered the silence between them. Robin looked down at his phone, then back up: "He wants to talk."

It wasn't far, which in itself felt unfair. As the Batmobile grew more and more visible, every statement Steven, Jake, and a hastily woken Marc could come up with seemed to fall apart. "Just keep calm," Marc tried to sooth, "If things get bad, back off and we'll handle it." "Yeah," Jake tried to summon his usual bravado. Then the top opened with a hiss.

Smoothly, as if made from the shadows that covered the alley, Batman exited and stood before them. "Heya B," Robin grinned, "Remember what I asked for last week." "Hmm." "I mean, come on, he's perfect. Could use some training, but he's got a suit already and everything." "Wa-wait," Steven struggled to keep up, "What's going on?" Robin looked both smug and utterly innocent: "No offence, but based on your clothes I'd assume you're either homeless or in a bad situation. I want a brother, you need a good home, and you're already doing the whole 'mask' thing. It's a win for everyone!"

Jake laughed loud and sudden, almost making Steven flinch. "Little Birdie's good," he managed out through his giggles. Meanwhile, Batman had pulled out three pictures: "Which is you?"

Swallowing, Steven decided to be honest, "In a way, all of them, but me specifically, this one." The Bat tilted his head as he took in the one Steven had pointed at. "'In a way'?" "It's not something to be dicussed out in the open," Steven slowly stated, eyes flicking around as if someone else was going to pop out.

The three of them waited for him to push, to demand an answer. But he backed off. "Is he right?" Batman asked instead. At their lack of a reply, he held out his hand. Baffled, they stared at it as if the concept of a hand was foreign to them. "If he is right, you can come with us. It can be for as long as you want, even if it's just for a night." "Yeah, under that cowl, B's just a big ol' teddy bear," Robin added with a cheeky yet still genuine smile.

Emotions swirled and mixed inside them. Distrust. Confusion. Fustration. Hope. Khonshu sat the Batmobile, looking at them. He nodded again. And Steven's hand slid into the Batman's as though it had been made for it.

[rateatingraccoon]

Demon brothers as Sir Chloe songs

Sir Chloe has been my favorite music artist for a year now, but I've also been on more of a listening streak. So... the Obey Me! demons brothers as Sir Chloe songs!

(Warning: Spoilers in Belphie's explanation)

Lucifer

Leash - I Am The Dog album

I was a bit torn on this one, but I think Leash suits Lucifer quite well. Centered around feeling in control, with mentions of sinning, it definitely gives Lucifer towards MC vibes.

"Pretty shiny, newcomer In the corner shaking off the water"

"My home, a place above the sinkhole I know, my only love is control"

Sinner in a pool, it's a bitter blue I'm nobody's you"

Mammon

Center - I Am The Dog album

This one was a bit easier, since there are only so many songs from SC that aren't super angsty, lmao. Center is focused on, well, an obsession with someone, not being able to control your desire to be with them. Lots of themes of impulsiveness and attachment - both things that scream Mammon.

"Thought I was patient, but I bit right through I could never get enough of you"

"I like a challenge when the prize is you Try my hardest if you ask me to"

"Itching for a fix Habit I'll never kick"

Leviathan

Hooves - I Am The Dog album

Not as confident with this one, but with Hooves centering around themes of being different, I think it suits our introverted demon well.

"At the end of your pack, I know Can I offer a drag?"

"I don't want to hold hands, I don't want to hold hands You've been chewing my hair over and over again"

"Eyes like a goat Blinking sideways at the show"

Satan

Wrath - Party Favors EP

Daddy's Car - I Am The Dog album

I couldn't just choose one for this guy, partially because these two songs are what inspired me to make this post. Wrath is pretty self explanatory - centered around failing to suppress anger. Daddy's Car, however, is harder to explain but gives very strong Satan vibes. Basically trying to help someone with daddy issues. More MC -> Satan rather than vise versa.

"I, I took a bath Couldn't drown my wrath It's alright to be mad"

"Lock on the door, holes in the wall I wasn't there, but I know it's my fault So watch me come apart"

"It was haunted, I was asked to leave it Politely, a warning"

"See your glower through the rosy lighting I can see the numbers in the air"

"And I'll drive with no headlights this time You're my baby forever even when you're not mine"

Asmodeus

Company - single

This one was probably the easiest. Centered around a longing desire for someone - and their company. This desire can easily be interpreted as lust.

"Shadows in my room And they're all in the shape of you Give me a sign to Do what I wanna do"

"You gotta ask me for it 'Cause I don't know what I don't know I wanna hear you want it I wanna hear you ask for more"

"Shadows in my room But I don't take my eyes off you"

Beelzebub

Walk You Home - single

This one was by far the hardest, but I think Walk You Home takes after Beel's vibes of helping you no matter what. He's just a sweet guy, and I think this song reflects that.

He could also be good for Center, since that song has a lot of lollipop themes.

"Don't know your name yet But your head's still resting on my arm Subway, fly by On the green line, no one does you harm"

"Just a pretty girl with a shot glass In your Sunday dress and coat I found you in the bathroom like that Help you up and say hello"

"I've been around the block And I see you cry a lot Can I walk you home"

Belphegor

I Am The Dog - I Am The Dog album

This one was also pretty hard, but I decided on I Am The Dog mainly because of Belphie's trauma with Lillith and, obviously, the murder that lead to. While I'm not totally confident on this one, I think they do share some similar themes.

"Head underwater Stones on my back I didn't do well, but I still tried my best"

"I am the dog under your couch Gnashing teeth and open mouth"

"Head underwater Hand in a fist Hard to describe something I'll never miss"

And that's all! Thank you for reading, and maybe check out Sir Chloe's music if you haven't because it's amazing!!

[hitheeprithee]

Tango :>

HI :D

*cracks knuckles* oh it's blorbo time

I headcanon Tango as just being slightly lower empathy, I enjoy the dynamic of him genuinely wanting to figure out what's going on emotionally with people he cares about but not quite picking up the signals and potentially coming off as a little uncaring to people who don't know him well (Especially paired with a very high empathy Jimmy who Feels things very strongly, makes for a super interesting dynamic imo)

The tango I write has a fire core, an actual flame burning inside his chest that makes him warm and can occasionally make his chest glow when he's feeling really strong emotion!

To add onto that, I think Tango's eyes deserve to glow in the dark <3 as a treat. Cannot escape the image of the softly glowing outline of shadowed ribs against skin paired with the warm red light of pupil-less eyes. I simply think he deserves to bioluminesce

I love me a netherborn Tango (fanon for the win) and because he's a warm boy I like to think he has his gloves to keep his hands warm, and that he actually takes them off to do things like weld, do redstone, or handle lava buckets. He needs his fine motor control for those things, but also that's when his hands are warm enough to not actively ache in the lower temperatures of the overworld

On another note this had not occurred to me until just now but chronic joint pain tango from being just a little too cold is SPINNING in my brain now oh boy I will be returning to that concept.

Tango is mouthy in a very literal sense, and he chews on things while he's working. I feel like he has absolutely chipped a tooth before by chewing on the wrong things and spurred his friends on a "DON'T PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH TANGO-" spree. They catch him absent-mindedly tapping a piece of netherite scrap against his mouth and like 3 people go "NO" at once

Okay late edition to the glowing bit but imagine with me: Tango cannot take compliments, and when they finally do get through to him he blushes. GLOWING BLUSHY CHEEKS. that is all

Tango is shorter than most of his friends, but there are v few people who are allowed to pick him up or put him on their shoulders ect. without getting an earful. He's a wiry but strong guy and if someone tries he's more likely to pick Them up.

I think when he gets really chilled he does like toothless in how to train your dragon and heats up a patch of ground to lay on by placing lava down and then picking it back up. superheated gravel to curl up on top of

I like the idea of Tango having slightly off color perception for more netherborn reasons, thus the usually monochromatic outfits. I don't know enough about forms of color blindness to elaborate on that a lot but it makes me Think about perception and how it effects his redstone work and maybe even how he sees the colors of other people

PLUS bonus silly 11. I was sitting here thinking "what music would tango listen to while working on DO" and just immediately got bodyslammed by the image of the deep frost citadel's windows pulsing with light to the tune of Carameldansen so. Have that mental picture free of charge slkdfj

Thank you for the ask!! :D

Character headcanons ask game!

[geminmyeyes]

Chapter 3 - Beyond Light and Shadow (Tumblr Backup)

<- Previous Chapter

First Chapter (Includes Tags, Warnings, etc)

Next Chapter ->

After Chiharu had summoned the youkai to deal with, he found himself being scolded by a certain kenbumajin followed by a towel ruffling over his head upon entering back into the palace.

“Listen, try to bring an umbrella and a coat next time, especially with near-typhoon levels of rain kiddo,”

“I didn’t know that youkai would bring in so much damn rain! Plus it’s not like I’ve gotten a cold or anything,” Chiharu cursed out a bit, before giving a small sneeze and a clear shiver following after. “...Damnit, I thought I was made invincible…”

“Yeah the Youkai Watch Tenou makes your heart function normally, but you’re still a human kid who’s still prone to the elements and getting sick,” The fiery kenbumajin responded.

Chiharu simply just looked off to the distance, opening with a question. “Why do you care so much anyways? You’re just a means to an end, a blade bestowed upon the queen who saved my life.”

A biting bit of stillness filled the room. Much needed time to prepare a response was taken, making sure it could have the impact it needed.

“Kindness can go a long way Chiharu, it’s good to repay the favor,” The sword spirit answered earnestly. “If an army of thousands are spitting all over you and only one person reaches out, you keep them close no matter what. Solidarity can only do so much, but two heads are better than one as they always say.”

The boy simply scoffed a little bit more, causing the supernatural being to kneel down to the boy’s level. He lifted the kid’s chin to make him look directly into those golden eyes, burning with a serious glare that made the typically cold Chiharu thaw out of his pride.

“If you want to keep using my power to completely wipe out anyone that dares to fight against us, it be one or a million, you better start thinking about treating me like an equal and friend rather than a weapon that chews you out sometime,” The spirit scolded, his voice taking on a more harsh, sharp tone than before. 

Silence.

“You can’t reject bonds and expect people to be on your side when the rest of the world is against you. The whole world will tear you apart without anyone by your side.”

More silence filled the room the two were currently in. Though something was starting to set in as the silence grew longer in awaiting a response from the boy.

He was too proud to admit that this was all quite a humbling moment for him. Being given the power to finally live his damn life, he didn’t realize how much he was being full of himself, or lacked the ability to make friends.

But did he need to? He was more powerful than anyone that stood in his way! He was Goku Hyakki-hime’s number one knight, was he going to have to share that position?

Yet, his power stemmed from the very individual asking him to treat him like a friend, not a weapon.

Just this once, Chiharu would swallow his pride. For the sake of someone that would teach him this concept of friendship. Bonds beyond just mere comrades or tools to conquer.

“Understood…fr…friend…” Chiharu uttered. “Just…don’t be so harsh, alright.”

The Kenbumajin bit his lip a bit, giving a sigh. “Sorry about that, I just wanted to understand, and nicer, softer words weren’t exactly my forte to begin with.”

—----------

Within a day of getting Ayame’s message, the Youkai Detective Agency met once more, even Ayame herself joining in through video call of course. 

“Alright so we know for sure the location of one of the Sacred King’s Armory now!” Akinori started off the meeting on a strong note. “If we can get our hands on it, then we might have an edge against this hundred demon army or whatever they call themselves!”

“But how are we going to get it?” Natsume brought up, furrowing a brow a bit. “I mean, we can’t just ask to please borrow a priceless artifact for who knows how long.”

“Then perhaps, taking it without anyone noticing may be the most effective option?” Touma suggested, everyone giving a tense ‘really now?’ sort of look at the rather deadpan boy.

“That would be illegal, you know,” Whisper added in his own two cents to the matter, before sighing. “However, it’s a sacrifice worth making for the greater good of human and youkai kind alike I suppose.”

“If it’s any help, the exhibit is said to be held on the second floor of the Sakura History Museum. As for where they’re going to prop up the bow in question, I’m not sure. Every floor plan is different after all,” 

“We should probably start making moves towards the museum within the next week,” Natsume suggested. “That way we can gather resources and intel, but not dilly dally too much that the exhibit is already gone or someone already stole the very thing we’re after. I think Saki’s mom might have some stuff that might be of use, I’ll have to ask.”

The meeting had concluded there, a plan of action underway. Today was Monday, and they had until Saturday night to enact one of the riskiest plans in the agency’s history. 

Television and movies made stealing things look incredibly easy. All they would need is to be as cunning as a wolf and as flexible as a monkey with a penchant for pitch perfect disguises. Throw in support roles of having bullets that never miss and a blade that can cut through anything, and it was a foolproof strategy to leave even the most determined of authorities dumbfounded. 

Oh, and about a decade and a half of experience in the field of crime committing as well. 

They didn’t have time for that kind of training, and they were going to have to try anyway. It would be worth trying to take a dive at the very least.

Besides, Youkai were mostly invisible to most eyes and video devices, right? Couldn’t be that hard, right?

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

Somewhere in the sleepy town an evening or two after the initial call to get intel and help, a woman somewhere in her early 40’s was looking at a five monitor setup with a strange posture, one she swore was good for her back. Bags were under her eyes, having possibly barely slept at all, glasses being half on and purple hair having the distinct style of ‘chaotic bedhead’. A form that could best be described as making one cringe with failure.

“This guy…this guy right here…” The woman commented, analyzing a few blurry photos from when Chiharu’s Kenbumajin initially attacked in the woods near the Arihoshi shrine, trying to get a good look at the fierce, fiery figure. Having been taken in a panic by a certain butler, posting it to a niche form begging for help. “How this guy fires arrows, he’s basically a launcher of them! Geez!” 

“And for the sender of these blurred photos…I swear I’ve heard it before…” She thought aloud, trying to piece things together. “Oh I’m hopeless in trying to solve things like this! If only you were here…”

Her thoughts were forced to shift by a young girl with a pink brown bob and brown eyes knocking gently but loud enough that the older woman could hear her. 

“M-Mom you in there?” The girl piped up, the girl's mother getting out of her chair to greet her child.

“Yeah I’m always here, Saki! Whatcha need?” 

“Natsume needs a uh. Lock pick and something to fry wires with she said?” Saki answered, the girl’s mother looking confused.

“What do you need that kind of stuff for? I might have it knocking around somewhere…” Her mother answered, looking back at her desk covered in cans and half finished model kits. “...A big maybe though.”

“It’s for…a…school project, her words not mine," She said. “In our umm…home economics class…”

“Home Economics? What kind of stuff are you learning in your oven operation class!?” Saki’s mom piped up, genuinely a bit shocked. 

Saki was quiet for a moment. “...Stuff…”

“Your teacher must be kind of a cool guy! I bet he’ll teach you how to get an old floppy drive game running on a microwave at sixty frames per second!” The mom continued, looking in her stuff. “Oh yeah I uh, don’t have anything like a lock pick or something that can fry wires. Maybe you can give Natsume a stack of paper clips?”

“I’ll try that,” Saki finished, awkwardly taking a fistfull of paperclips and closing the door.

—------------------

The pressure of such a task weighed a bit heavy on Touma especially. He wasn’t sure if he should, or even be allowed to go after a new Youseiken, one that was incredibly powerful. It was only two weeks ago that he had to witness Fudo Muyoou, a feared and mighty spirit that needed several generations of the Enma clan to seal him, was killed and he had to endure feeling that unimaginable pain.

A death that was, without a doubt, his fault. Had he not been so hasty in wanting to fight against such a powerful enemy. Gods, the young spunky form Fudou-Muyoou took would be by his side still if he hadn’t been so rash when facing something so powerful. The constant guilt he felt, and how it would tune out any and all senses until it was just his thoughts left to spiral into an unending torment.

The grayed Youseiken he carried as a reminder of such a crime weighed heavily in his pocket within the Youseiken Holder and in his hand. Sure he had Ashura’s still, but he was intending on returning it back to Shuten Douji when he could find the oni again. Where was he anyways? He shouldn’t bother messing up another very precious thing again.

However, there was a little silver lining to break through his storm of doubt that was brewing. Nearby was someone that looked familiar…wasn’t that the meteorology student from the other week?

Upon closer inspection, it was without a doubt Shirogane Inazuma, looking a bit wistfully on the same hill as well. His silvery eyes were focused on a soccer match between some kids nearby.

“Seems this place is popular to be clouded in your thoughts,” Touma opened with as he tried to approach Shirogane, the silver eyed individual noticing the boy.

“Mhmm…it’s quite the nice spot to sit and yearn at,” Shirogane answered, almost unphased at the idea of the boy just showing up out of left field. 

His eyes shifted towards the kids playing soccer, without much of a care in the world. To them, the future was just a distant dream, free of the consequences of time.

“W-What, really?”

“Yes, I used to be in the soccer club in high school, I was considered the ace player, unparalleled. My life was lined up perfectly,”

The college student got a bit silent, closing his eyes and wincing slightly. 

“That was, until I fell trying to save someone, fracturing my knee badly in the process. While it did heal, it left permanent damage and I’ve never been able to play to the same ability I once had,” His silvery eyes finally opened again. 

“I went into meteorology studies, thinking it would be a more viable career path since my original plans were ripped so suddenly. Now, I wonder if rotting away the last crumbs of my youth was the viable option at all…” Shirogane wistfully concluded.

Those children playing on the field, so carefree, without a worry or woe of fracturing their whole future. Oh how he wished he could have a sense of that innocence back.

“I mean, don’t we all make horrible mistakes and we have to learn to move on?” Touma piped up, not sure if his words were coherent or empathetic, but his heart needed to speak.

“S-Something bad r-re-really bad happened to someone I was close with,” Touma added in, his words stammering as he tried to speak, but he didn’t want to back out and stop until his heart was poured out. “It weighs me down and eats me up inside, but I’m expected to just keep going…My friends need me to do something important…”

Shirogane put a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, the younger boy looking ready to bawl his eyes out.

“Take all the time you need to cry it out, before and after,” He spoke comfortingly. “But even if whatever it is frightening, you’ll be alright with your friends by your side. I’m sure even through thick and thin they’ll make sure you’re okay.”

He couldn’t take it in any longer, Touma had to cry, in front of someone older and wiser. Every word that attempted to escape his mouth was incomprehensible blubbering, not even Touma himself knew what he was trying to say.

Yet the hand that had been comfortingly on his shoulder never left, never moved.

“Don’t feel frightened when you need to cry. We all feel the sting of loss at one point or another in our lives,” Shirogane answered earnestly.

He remained by the other’s side until he calmed down, offering a handkerchief to help ease things.

“Life is full of choices that leave lifelong consequences. You have to make the ones you know what lines up with your heart deep down, even if there may be some pain,” Shirogane finished, getting up with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I have to go, I have a shift later tonight.”

With that, the young man had gone his merry way.

Touma thought about those parting words as he walked his own way now. The weight of his sins in his pocket weighed heavy, and his friends were counting on him to be their powerhouse, their ace in the hole.

Even if sometimes, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry his eyes out until he was too tired to keep conscious.

He had to be brave.

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

Finally, it was the night of the great heist. The detectives that were all able to meet sat at a fair pace away from the museum’s entrance to make sure they didn’t get a scolding from late night ground’s keepers for soliciting. 

“So what was everyone able to get together?” Natsume asked, the two boys thinking for a moment before giving an answer.

“I tried to see if Genbu or Byakko had their Genjuu Discs,” Akinori kicked things off with his face contorting in a nervous, unsure way.  “Genbu said he’d look for it then never came back, Byakko’s face tensed up before telling me not to tell Genbu that he had lost his Genjuu Disc a long while ago.”

But that tensity didn’t last for long, the yojistsu user snapping back into confidence. “But fear not! I still have Suzaku by my side, and I can use my skills no problem!”

Touma was quiet for a bit. A considerable long bit at that, but took a deep breath and finally spoke up.

“I…I think I have something figured out…” He finally spoke up. The blue haired boy couldn’t admit to being a bit scared, frightened even. It would be a tricky endeavor ahead, that’s for sure.

“So we remember our plan for this, yes?” Akinori briefed, going into a deep focus for a moment. “Remember, this invisibility spell will only last for about five minutes tops, so we gotta enter discreetly, grab that bow, and run for our lives.”

“Right, I should get to calling on our trusty ace,” Natsume fumbled around looking for a specific arc in her possession, opening up the Youkai Watch Elder with a “Summoning!” from her and a “Light!” from the watch itself.

“Come out my friend, Junior!” Natsume finished the summoning chant, the mostly cat shaped tiny ball of a youkai being summoned.

“Whatdya want?” Junior piped up, looking for something, anything exciting at a museum at night. “Jii-tan doesn’t see anything exciting. Just a place of dusty old things.”

“Well uhh, we’re going to have to go inside for a moment,” Touma began to explain. “Just to…grab something. You’ll be a very big help to us, Junior.”

“If you say so! Jii-tan thinks it’s gotten a bit boring without that Fudou boy running around,” Junior chimed, Touma trying not to let that grim reminder sting his heart too much. Junior was just a kid, a pipsqueak, he didn’t know any better, he thought.

“Okay, let’s move closer to where I think the back entrance is, the main doors are locked but there’s a back door that isn’t as noticeable to break into,” Akinori explained, leading the group closer to the aforementioned back door. 

“...Crap, I forgot to ask Saki if her mom had a lock pick or an electrical diffuser…” Natsume cursed under her breath, the boys looking pretty shocked.

“What kind of woman is Saki’s mom even?” Akinori questioned, Natsume shrugging.

“She’s…something if Saki’s words are to go off of. I think I may have seen her once, her and my dad gave a bit of an awkward look.”

“I…I think I might have a solution to this problem,” Touma spoke. “Akinori, you might want to cast the invisibility spell, and everyone stand back as well.”

“If you say so, I trust your judgment as our hustle and muscle,” Akinori said, deeply focusing as a mint green magical energy surrounded him, before quickly being cast off to the others in the party. Within a few short moments, they became completely invisible to the naked, normal eye.

“Genma, Goemon, lend me your strength!” Toums didn’t hesitate in calling forth the boisterous swordsman to take his place for a few brief moments.

Quickly, the door was sliced in half, the sorcerer of the group muttering “That’s one way to do it…” in awe of the whole thing.

The museum was rather large on the inside, exhibits in just about every corner you could go to. A circular atrium peering between both floors of the building was dead in the center of it all, representing a world of discovery and possibilities, and to reach far beyond into the stars above.

And patrolling on the floor was a night guard, flashlight in hand. It was hard to make out any notable details, and if he had any hair it was kept under a standard hat, any personal flair kept under a pristine but simple uniform.

This would have been a problem if they were visible, and there was a zero chance the normal joe security guard could detect youkai. Not even the ten foot tall, six armed spirit of a famous bandit.

Even getting up to the exhibit and case was as easy as ‘get on Goemon’s shoulders, jump up the giant architectural hole to the second floor, and find the needed shiny powerful bow’. 

With an artifact so stunningly beautiful and meticulously crafted, it didn’t take long for it to be spotted. Goemon cut a clean opening in the case, not damaging the artifact within, before he allowed Touma to return unscathed.

“Alright, Junior, you see that bow?” Natsume whispered, the tiny youkai looking with his big yellow eyes.

“Mmmm, Jii-tan doesn’t think so!” Junior answered, Natsume sweetly trying to think of something.

“How about if you do it for a chochobar?”

“Mmmm nope!”

“How about five chochobars, then?”

“A deal’s a deal, then!” 

Without a moment to spare, Junior managed to replicate the shiny bow. Just with more of a lighter weight and rubbery texture, but it would only be noticed if someone got really, really close. 

A swift hand switched the real mystical archer’s bow for the replica, closing back the case in a swift haze that made Natsume wonder if she actually ended up getting the right bow. The weight of it felt like it was made of a solid, divine metal.

There were no alarms.

There were no sirens.

Truly, the detectives were invisible, and now it was a matter of making a break for it. They didn’t have much time left on the invisibility spell, so it was a matter of sprinting for their lives.

“Go on ahead, let me call upon Omatsu real quick to make sure the case is as good as new and we didn’t leave anything too damaged,” Touma explained his plan, holding onto his watch’s face to call the aforementioned Genma as the other two booked it down the non operating escalators like they were rather funky stairs.

Where they had entered through a discreet exit in one of the storage rooms was just in sight, just a few more sprints…

Everyone stopped in their tracks when a familiar voice called for them from behind. The smug tone, the slight glimmer from solid golden armor. 

“Well well, looks like you sniveling brats got stuck settling for second best,” Those eyes of a lion, those shoulders of a bull, it was that cruel Kenbumajin again. A grin painted across his face. “Shame you couldn’t get me, the best archer of them all.”

“I knew you’d turn back up again, Hou-Yi!” Natsume cursed, confident in her deductions. The kenbumajin opened with a mere chuckle.

“Hou-Yi, oooh, nah that ain’t me,” Chiharu’s burning Kenbumajin retorted with conceited fire. “And before you ask, it sure ain’t Apollo either, missy.”

“What do you think your problem is?” A gentle, but stern feminine voice called, belonging to one of Touma’s Genma, the kind hearted healer Omatsu. Her typically loving eyes furrowed at the Kenbumajin, not being a fan of this attitude problem as she got done repairing the broken case and any traces the group might have left. 

“Ouch, you don’t have to be so mean!” A quip escaped with a sarcastically whiny tone. “I have a name, you know.”

“Then what is it then!? You’ve been cryptic and a freaking jerk since we first ran into you!” Natsume cursed, getting pretty riled up in the process.

The Kenbumajin’s face formed into a scowl as he became a lot more serious looking than his typical cocky, smug self, bow being readied with a burning arrow of golden flame.

“Karna,” He said it with simplicity and punctuality, letting it sink in for a moment. 

“Let my name be the last thing you’ll know in this merciless world, brats.” A few arrows of heated flame were fired, everyone trying to jump out of the way but all the cases and counters in the museum’s front lobby made it an increasingly challenging endeavor.

Omatsu was quick in trying to put out any fires before they started, careful in trying to keep a safe distance from Karna but also distracting him by healing away any collateral and physical damage.

“Why I oughta, you bi–” Karna tried to curse, only to get a fan smacked across his face.

“How rude of you to want to call me that, watch your mouth next time,” Omatsu punctuated her rather hard fan smack.

In return she was thrown into a nearby display case in a section displaying various art pieces from ancient China. Touma was back in place of the thrown Genma in a wrecked wall of the display.

“Touma, are you alright!?” Natsume concernedly asked, Touma choking up a small “Yeah…” as he was helped up through all the fallen art pieces. Pots, plates, paper scrolls, some weird looking triangle gemstone…

…Wait…!

“Aha, it seems this is where Byakko had his Genjuu Disc end up!” Akinori cheerfully commented, not even hesitating to put the disc into his own watch. “Natsume, let’s hold nothing back this time!”

“You got it!” Natsume responded, readying her own watch and a very special and dear arc to her. Oh she was not going to hold back on this guy this time, that’s for sure!

“Descend, Genjuu, Byakko!”

“Summoning, Shadow! Come out my friend, Seiryuu!” 

A tiger with fur as white as snow and fiery blue accents joined from one side, whereas a massive, majestic cyan scaled dragon was at the other. 

“Well well, it’s been a while since I’ve gone feral!” Byakko excitedly growled, not hesitating to charge right at the Kenbumajin that had been nothing but a pain in everyone’s side since he showed up. He managed to get a good batting with his claw across Karna’s face, growling all the while. “You’ll know better than to mess with a legendary Genjuu given Kenbumajin status once I’m done with you!”

“Psh, and you should know better to respect one of the Sacred King’s Armory Kenbumajin when you see one!” Karna cursed back, punching the tiger off of him to ready and arrow to fire at the beast. 

But before an arrow could be fired, a large scaly tail knocked off his balance, the dragon yokai looking cool and collected, but his eyes glistening with anger.

“Whatever title you may carry, I will not let you hurt anyone here, understood?” Seiryuu spoke in a gentle, yet quite angry voice, casting a blast of water to knock Karna back into a nearby wall.

But the Kenbumajin just shook it off, readying an arrow and striking down the mighty dragon. Thankfully, he didn’t sacrifice his powerful armor for deadly, killing arrows, but it was enough to hurt a youkai like Seiryuu. 

The azure serpent found himself not all that far to where Touma was, the blue haired boy coming to the aid of the dragon. As he was checking on the majestic beast, something fell out of his pocket.

It was the greyed, and unpowered Fudou Raimenken, no longer in possession of a Kenbumajin to wield it.

However…

The small key like sword landed near Seiryuu, starting to glow with a deep blue energy once again.

“W-What in the world…?” Touma asked, Seiryuu holding the key within his massive claws. 

Suddenly, it bursted with life never seen before within a deep cobalt light. The mold of it changed, and now engraved on it was a dragon looking humanoid, in a similar stained glass engraving like the other Youseiken.

“Touma…” Seiryuu began to speak, his eyes looking determined. “I believe I have enough yoki energy to give it new life. You are the only one who can utilize such power in this group…”

The boy had thought for a moment. This basically confirmed that Fudou was probably not going to be coming back, let alone as powerful as he once was. It was a bitter reminder to him.

But, life moves on.

Staying in the past forever will keep one from living in the gift of the present. 

New beginnings arise from old tragedies.

“Kenbumajin, Seiryuu! Lend me your strength!” 

The tiger and archer paused for a moment in their slap fighting to take notice of the descending of a new power before them.

Where the boy and dragon once stood was a humanoid with the same dark blue hair as Seiryuu’s mane, smaller scale horns and the same calm looking eyes. His attire was a combination of light teal with some added bells and whistles to signify his inheritance of the power of a Kenbumajin. What was once the Fudou Raimenken had transformed into a sleeker blade with more dragon themed accents than before. The deep ocean blue blade itself split into several, interconnecting sections.

“From the ashes of fallen thunder, the calm of healing rain descends from the heavens,” Seiryuu began his speech, holding up the blade. “Reborn as the Seiryuu Umimuchiken, I will quench your flames!”

Without a moment to lose, Seiryuu got to showing his newfound strength and power, a small switch pressing to unfurl the blade into a sectioned whip. Each careful flick of the wrist cracked away at any arrows, allowing the dragon to gain in on the gold clad kenbumajin.

“What kind of nonsense is this…!? How can you even become a real Kenbumajin!?” Karna questioned, before finding himself coiled in the sectioned whip.

“Electrocution Whirlpool Current!” Seiryuu shouted, grabbing at the blade whip’s hilt to unfurl it, bolts of electricity spinning the mighty Kenbumajin in a whirl until he silently admitted defeat and retreated.

Seiryuu on the other hand found himself falling to the ground after such an attack, Touma being alongside him now. He was in his lightside form, which was largely the same as his Kenbumajin form, just not as flashy and powerful. His breath heaved as the Youseiken dulled. Not grayed out completely like before, but showing that it’s power had greatly weakened. 

“Seiryuu!” Natsume called the dragon, helping him up, Akinori helping Touma up in the meantime.

“I think…I know what’s going on…But let’s retreat with what we came here for…first…” Seiryuu muttered, everyone remembering that their escape plan got a good long distraction in the form of a fight.

Everyone had retreated back to their usual meeting spot, legendary bow in tow and without a scratch despite all of that chaos.

“I believe I was able to tap into the power of a Kenbumajin temporarily…” Seiryuu began to explain his hypothesis over a bottle of mineral water to help him heal quicker. “But I wasn’t able to maintain it for long since it seems I haven’t been given access to the blade’s power in any official capacity.”

“And it seems the only Youkai that can do that sort of thing is Soarnaki, who is long gone,” Akinori began with the conclusion to the particular predicament Seiryuu was in.

“Or whoever the original Enma is, the leader guy of the Sacred King’s Armory Kenbumajin,” Natsume concluded.

“Well, maybe Genbu might know a thing or two,” A small grey and white cat piqued up. Given his voice, it was Byakko taking a smaller, less noticeable form, much like the small bird Suzaku would take form in. “Guy’s a geezer, but eh, he can probably get all that paperwork figured out. That and maybe he might know where the heck the Sacred King’s Armory Kenbumajin is for that celestial bow doohickey.” 

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In the palace of shadow, the hundred demon queen was looking at the rather jock-like Oni she had requested be dragged in before her. She gave a sigh, closing her eyes a bit.

“Shuten,” Goku Hyakki-Hime began in her usual deadpan voice. “You’re pleasant enough, but you aren’t the oni I am looking for.”

“Huh, really now?” Shuten answered, trying his best not to sound bummed out. However, he remained curious despite that.

“The one I’m looking for is similar, but distinct, so I feel I must ask you a question; do you know if the Oni King Ibuki-Douji is still alive? If so, where can he be found?” Goku Hyakki-Hime asked, Shuten biting down on his lip before tensing up.

“Ah geez, you want to know about my pops of all people!? You sure that’s what you want!?”

“I will repeat myself once more, if I have to again I will have to take your life. Is Oni King Ibuki-Douji still alive and where can he be found?”

“Yeah yeah he’s alive, just sealed away ever since some samurai were hired to get him to stop rampaging.” Shuten Douji finally muttered.

“Goku Kyuubi,” The monotone voice of the queen called, an eccentric looking Kitsune who’s tails were made of shadow, tipped with red and blue fire, appeared without another word or moment of hesitation. Her heterochromatic red and cyan eyes looked sharp, and her face was plastered with a large grin, sharply contrasting with her emotionless queen.

“Yes, your greatest majesty?” Goku Kyuubi answered in a sly, yet enthused voice, really hanging onto those s sounds for extra effect. Shuten Douji was thrown to her feet.

“Order him to lead you to where Ibaraki Douji is, and retrieve the true king of Oni to me at once,” Goku Hyakki-hime ordered, the fox’s twisted grin getting even larger.

“Please, please, your majesty! You should leave the dirty work to the greatest goddess of them all,” Goku Kyuubi reassured with a slight laugh to her tone, grabbing the oni’s fiery red hair. “Up and up now, your daddy’s about to meet with a truly beautiful goddess!”

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At the end of an eventful night, the mystical bow in the hands of the young detectives, the security guard during the escapades, was clocking out. With the morning sun about to rise at any moment, the guard put up his hat, deep ocean blue hair spilling out. His face curved into a smile, silver eyes glistening.

“Well done, you three,” He smiled to himself, walking out into the brisk air. Petrichor began to fill the air as well to greet the morning sun.

[ddlert]

Wip! 🌹