#//listen this made me wheeze on the train

[yharnamcrow]

Yharnam blogs will be like “here is my profile picture of a shapeless black blob with no distinguishing features” and then interact with each other

Maybe to you, but I would argue that we can recognize each other perfectly well, please and thanks.

[metallicaislife]

Embarrassment Leads to…

Requested by: @g0ne-ghosting

Genre: 18+ smut, minors dni

Word Count: 1,720

Warnings: Douchey Lars-- oral(f receiving), p in v sex

I’ve known Kirk a long time, we met in biology class. Neither of us wanted to dissect the frog so we were banished to another room to watch a video of a frog dissection. Once again, neither of us were too keen on watching it. He pulled a horror comic out of his backpack, I reached into my backpack to show him the exact same one I had. Funny, we both enjoy watching gore but the idea of dissecting a frog is too much. 

Our friendship blossomed from there. Nearly every day after school he was at my place or I was at his, watching movies, reading comics or listening to music. 

I don’t know when the shift took place, one day he was just Kirk, my best friend, and well he still is, but in my heart he is so much more. He’s kind, funny, talented, and super attractive. His curly hair, breathtaking brown eyes, crooked smile. Super fucking cliche, having a massive crush on my best friend, I can’t help it though. 

When he moved to San Francisco I was super bummed out and thought we’d drift apart because I can’t move up there yet. I was wrong though, we call each other often and correspond through letters. I’ve been up a couple times to visit and he has been back to LA to see me. 

I was able to get the weekend off of work so I took a bus up to San Francisco. I’m currently on the couch talking to Lars while the others are deep in their own conversation. 

“I mean I was a virgin when we started Metallica, but that problem has been well taken care of.” Lars smirked. I don’t know how we got to this topic, but here we are. 

“Problem?” I asked. 

“Yeah, I mean who in this day and age wants to be a virgin?” Lars asked incredulously. 

I had never really given much thought that still being a virgin was lame or a problem. Was I holding out hope that Kirk would see me in a different light and fuck my brains out? Absolutely, but I didn’t think it was silly that I was still a virgin. 

“I’m still a virgin.” I stated. Lars' eyes widened then he doubled over in laughter. 

“What’s so funny, Ulrich?” James’ asked, his attention being torn from his and the other’s conversation. 

“She’s still a virgin!” Lars wheezes out. 

Okay, when you announce it to everyone like that, then it becomes mortifying. My cheeks heated up and I bolted. I found the room I was staying in and slammed the door. I sat on the ground with my back against the bed, bringing my knees into my chest. I fought off the tears, it wasn’t worth crying over. I heard the knob turn and cursed myself for not thinking of locking the door. I looked up and Kirk entered, closing the door softly. He made his way over to me and sat beside me. 

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. 

“That was so embarrassing. I wasn’t embarrassed by the fact I’m a virgin, but he didn’t have to go announcing it like it was today’s hottest news.” I said. I couldn’t bear to look over at Kirk. 

“That was really rude of Lars, the other guys didn’t find it funny either. Both Cliff and James are really reaming into him right now.” Kirk said. 

“So you don’t think it’s funny or pathetic that I’m a virgin?” I ask, finally looking over. Kirk’s big brown eyes were already trained on me. 

“Not in the slightest.” He reassured me. 

The air was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but as we stared at one another, it wasn’t as best friends. Now was one of those times I wished one of us would take the jump and explore the possibility of more.

“I may be reading this wrong, if I do anything that you don’t want, tell me to stop.” Kirk said softly. My brow furrowed, but I quickly caught on as he leaned in. My eyes fell closed as our lips met in an electric kiss. It was soft and slow, but I’d been kissed before, and it never felt like this. Kirk shifted so he could cup my face as he deepened the kiss. He nibbled my lower lip and I opened my mouth letting him slide his tongue. I let out a soft moan deep in my throat. Kirk pulled back and we stared at one another with wide eyes and swollen lips. 

“Keep going.” I offered softly as my chest heaved. 

Kirk stood up and held his hand out to me. I took it and he helped me up and then brought me into him as his lips met mine again. As we kissed his hand wandered up my shirt and squeezed my breast. I gasped. He pulled back enough to lift my shirt above my head. He took his shirt off too. 

“Take your pants off and lay down.” He said, then began removing his pants. I did as he asked, removing my bra as well and laid on the bed on my back. Kirk stood at the edge of the bed and stared at me for a few moments. My cheeks heated and I covered my breasts feeling so bare. Kirk grabbed my arms and moved them as he got on the bed over me. 

“Don’t hide.” He said and pinned my arms at my side as he dipped down licking around one of my nipples. I gasped, my back arching slightly at the feeling. I could feel Kirk smirk against me as he took the nipple in his mouth and sucked at it. He used one of his hands to squeeze the other, rolling my nipple in his fingers. He switched sides. With the arm that wasn’t still pinned, I let my hand run up and down his back, scratching softly when he nibbled. 

After he was pleased with his time there, he kissed down my body and looked up as he hovered over my clothed pussy. I nodded, giving him permission. He leaned down and kissed it before removing my panties. After throwing them to the floor, he kissed my pussy before licking from my entrance to my clit. I moaned, arching my back. Kirk continued lapping at my cunt as he shoved two fingers in my face. I took them in my mouth and sucked on them, swirling my tongue around the digits. When he deemed them wet enough he pulled them out with a lewd popping sound coming from my lips. 

Kirk pulled his face back enough to watch as he slid a finger in me. My chest heaved as I watched him. He pulled his hand back and found a slow pace, curling his finger. I moaned and he added the second finger. Once he saw I wasn’t uncomfortable with the sensation, he dived back in sucking my clit as his fingers curled and scissored my pussy preparing it for his cock.

It didn’t take long before the pleasure rushed through me and my pussy clenched around his fingers. Kirk continued through my high letting it drag on. He pulled back and took his fingers out of me, placing them in his mouth licking off my slick. 

Kirk stood and removed his boxers letting his erection free. He bent down and fished his wallet out of his jeans pocket, taking a condom out and tossing his wallet back to the floor. I watched as he opened the condom and rolled it over his cock. He crawled back over me and aligned himself with my entrance. He brushed the hair from my face and kissed me passionately. He slowly pushed in and a whine escaped my throat at the sensation. Kirk pulled his head back and peppered my face in kisses. 

“I know, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He said in between his kisses. I sighed softly as I dug my fingers into his shoulders. 

Kirk moved his hips slowly back and forth until he was fully sheathed in me. My grip was so tight on him I thought I was going to leave marks on his shoulders. 

“Let me know when I can move.” He said as he moved his head so he could kiss my neck. 

I closed my eyes and let my body adjust to having his cock in me. After a while, it didn’t hurt as much. 

“Okay, you can move.” I said. As I said that, Kirk rocked his hips back slowly and pushed back in. A groan left his lips. 

Kirk found a steady pace. He lifted his head again and our lips met in a sloppy kiss. He started moving his hips a little faster, adding some more force with his thrusts. He used one arm to brace himself so he wasn’t crushing me, as the other found its way to my clit and began rubbing me as he fucked me. My back arched and I moaned, breaking our kiss. Kirk kissed down the column of my throat. I came for the second time shortly after. He continued thrusting into me until he found his high as well. Kirk rested his head on my shoulder catching his breath before he pulled out and got up to take the condom off. 

I laid staring at the ceiling, in absolute disbelief that that had really happened. Kirk came back and laid next to me, he brought me into his embrace and ran his fingers up and down my back softly. 

“I didn’t do that just so you could rub it in Lars face, I really like you… I know we’re best friends but I’ve liked you for a long time.” Kirk rambled. I leaned up pressing my lips to his. 

“I like you too.” I said softly after pulling away from him. Kirk smiled at me and I smiled back, “I didn’t go along with it just to lose my virginity because I was embarrassed.” I said and rested my head on Kirk’s chest. 

“I’m glad.” Kirk said and gave me a squeeze. I giggled. 

I’m not sure where we go from here, but I know as long as I have Kirk by my side, I’ll be fine. 

Thank you for reading! :)

[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 8 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Give yourself to Krulu (70.1%)

TW: Strong cultish themes; Macro/micro; Mindbreak; Squirting.

⋆✩ You've reached the end of the run ✩⋆

It's not much of a choice, is it?

If you wanted the easy way out, you could have taken it at several instances by now. Picked someone who was likely to bludgeon you, get on everyone's nerves... You're sure you could have gotten killed in many situations. And perhaps even in a less traumatic way- At the hands of a sick monster, rather than the deity dwelling in this rotpit.

But you've lived this far, survived the menaces who got their grimy hands on you. Only to choose death now? No. No, that's hardly admissible.

You're going to buck till your last dying breath here. Or at least try to.

Summoning strength you don't have, unable to meet the god-entity's eyes, it takes far too long before you can croak out a response.

" I... Offer myself to you. "

The finality of your own words hits you like a train. This is definitely not the type of being that'll let you walk back on your decision, so you've laid down the foundations for your brand new future with that statement alone.

Whatever giving yourself to Krulu implies, you have just signed up for it, and now you'll deal with whatever comes forth. It was your choice. It was the fate you wrote, at least some solace will come from that reminder.

The charred giant squints at you, long and hard. You're not sure what he hopes to gleam behind your eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul, maybe there's some actual merit to that, aside from mere romanticism and poetic frivolity. Does he hope to find a lie? Deceit? You're sure there's nothing to show but fear, resignation, confusion. Defeat.

" A wise answer. "

Is it really? You'd argue dying would be saner. But you've abandoned hopes of staying sane, you are now remaining alive out of spite. A stubborn bull's desire to have its way even as a torero stabs it time and time again. And the crowd cheers, hoping you'll fall.

When all points of contact are severed between you two and an oppressive silence settles easily, there's no clue as to what your next move should be, so you stand like a statue, risking only chaste glances at their figure.

That's... That's it? It can't be.

" It seems I will have to teach you everything. " The entity spits. " Just as I did with my vessel. I expect you to come out of this apt for service. So listen well, for every time I am made to repeat myself, you will suffer. "

Something behind you knocks harshly onto your back, sending you tumbling forward on the altar, hands and knees on enchanted marble. Your entire upper body throbs with pain and you attempt to wheeze some air in and out of your lungs.

The moment an attempt to sit up is made, a rough foot keeps you down. You're well aware he's not putting half of his weight on it.

" Your first lesson is humility. " Krulu begins. " You shall know your place here, profess yourself to me properly. If you fail to do such, I see no reason to spare your ego. "

You're sure he's not talking about your dignity and pride when he says "ego".

How does one "profess themselves" to a god? What does he want you to say? You take a moment to think about Admin's mannerisms. He clearly likes the woman, and she's visibly -Perhaps manically- devoted to him, so whatever she's doing must be adequate. You suppose you ought to copy the purple-clad woman.

A rising rumble from above lets you know time is of the essence. The weight of a clawed foot increases on you, staggeringly powerful as it forces you to curve further the longer you disappoint this entity. Words force themselves out before you can think too hard and risk being compressed into a sheet of paper.

" M- My lord...? I... I belong to you. " That does not sound natural at all. In fact, it's painfully uncomfortable.

A disinterested chuff reaches your ears after a measured pause. " You sound far from appreciative. I am not convinced of your candor. "

A confused, terrified mind runs a mile a second, trying to think of anything more adequate, more appeasing.

" Allow me to help motivate you. "

Within seconds, the strength on your back is so great that it becomes oppressive, hindering your capacity to breathe further. Something creaks within you, awakening a brand new level of desperation as you fight to get the right answer out before he can smash the means to do such with.

" Please! Please my lord- I'll do anything you ask of me, I'm humbled by your mercy- " You choke, trying to get air into your lungs. " I live to serve you! It's my role. I'm yours. Please spare me! "

And, almost mercifully, the weight recedes a good deal. " Better. Albeit sub-par. "

You aim to survive.

Words cannot begin to express the relief you feel at the loss of his strength on your figure, taking a pained, desperate inhale. As if they could decide to steal your breath away at any moment now. Krulu takes several steps back on the altar, and once more, you're not too sure what to do. Is this what it's like for her? Constantly having to guess what to do in order to please this entity? Having no guides or clues, just the whispers of flames and the ticking of an impatient clock counting the seconds to failure... You can't take that. You couldn't take that for an hour, much less a lifetime.

" But that is forgivable. "

He begins, after a long moment leaving you to your thoughts, it seems.

" The most important task your mouth must perform is pleasuring, after all. "

Something bitter curls in your stomach at that declaration. You chose this. It's this or dancing six feet below the ground.

The massive entity squats upon the marbled surface, easily keeping their balance, arms shifting this way and that as they think, eyes poised on you. Although Krulu is an admittedly gnarled creature far from easy on anyone's eyes, you can't help but think that, sometimes, the light bathes his figure in a manner that's almost soothing. An elegance he has no right to hold. His home is in the shadows, you can tell, but somehow, light gravitates towards him too.

What is a being like this doing here? On Earth. Who is he? What is he? How long has he been pacing in this cage of a building, like a hidden mole? Something in you insists he shouldn't be here, and it's not just animal instinct, it's a... Warning, an idea that crawls to the forefront of your mind, as if you've always known it. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have to.

It's not pity that you feel for this immeasurably powerful being, but something like confusion. For a moment, you see a wounded animal limping on the side of the road after trying to hunt something much greater than itself. It's nature, in a way.

He must have caught that image in the reflection of your eyes, because the way his frown deepens into a scalding snarl has you instantly cowering like a leaf in the wind.

" Come. " They begin, causing your heart to leap into your throat. " Your first trial greets you. "

First trial...? Him? Before you have the chance to utter a single thing, Krulu raises a finger.

" Remember this. All you do is only ever permitted. "

Brows furrowing in an attempt to make sense of his riddle-like wording, you ultimately opt not to spend too much time standing around like an idiot and begin awkwardly closing the distance.

On the second step, something unseen and long bats itself onto the floor hard enough to make the ground shake violently. You fall onto your ass with a pained grunt, horrified and further confused.

" Must I open those ears? " He sneers, a pair of long arms crossed over his chest.

" N- No! I'm sorry- " Palms show in what you hope might placate the being. He's not stomping after you at least. That slitted stare is expectant however.

What does he want now? He said for you to approach, so what was so wrong there...?

All you do is only ever permitted.

Ah. Permission.

Doe eyes glance up. " May I walk towards you? " This sounds like a waste of time, frankly. But you have no idea how gods operate. Maybe this is standard etiquette for them.

His glare softens when you guess what to do correctly. " No. "

Uh. Okay.

" You may not. Crawl, like the worm you are. "

Sighing, you swallow the thoughts that second-guess your prior decision and lower to your hands and knees. The trek towards Krulu isn't long, but it manages to feel depressingly unflattering all the same.

You don't feel sexy or confident, just demeaned. This is not a place for confidence. It's hard to tell what his endgame here is.

" Enough. "

Cautious, your hands settle on your knees and you straighten up, awfully close to the large being's groin. Afraid even looking that way can incite their wrath, scared hues cast themselves to the candles again, trying to siphon that warmth.

The scream you let out once something grabs your whole head cuts off into a startled gasp as it's swiveled back to his likeness.

" On this altar, your eyes are to be fixed on me. "

" Y- Yes, lord. "

It seems the sooner you act accordingly, the faster he stops inducing fear on you, grip relenting.

Another standstill unfurls.

The persistent inability to know what to do next causes slight irritation to bud within you, but all he does is wave one hand dismissively, as if to tell you he's getting bored. To get on with it. You really hope that you didn't misinterpret it when he said "trial." You hope and pray you're not going to get ripped in two with these next words.

" May- " The hairs on your back stand and your voice escapes, defying your will, making you sincerely consider running from this creature. Even if it means certain death. " May I service you? " It comes out your mouth murmured, the death rattle of all dignity.

" Yess. "

With a gulp, you chance a glance at what you're working with, thanking the slight amount of illumination currently available. Like many other monsters you know of, at first glance, Krulu's pelvis appears barren of genital attributes. Though, given his size, it would be a bit hard to miss a thin seam of yellow where his slit parts slightly in this squatted position. Or is it just that he's already bothered? By you? No. No, there's no way...

So, a phallus at least. You're hoping. Who knows what the fuck could be in that pouch at this rate. But that's not the only thing you can see from this position. There's... Something moving below. With a confused squint, you tilt your head and note what appears to be two appendages parting ways like petals unfurling. More yellow reveals itself to you, two small and pointed growths curve forward. It takes you a moment to realize that you're looking at his strange, alien vulva.

Two sets. They really weren't kidding when they called this a "trial". Even when you scoot closer, the nervousness must be crawling all over your face, because he makes a comment.

" Explore. I will correct you. "

Far from reassuring. But then again, he must be incapable of such. Or just uncaring, that's more likely. What are you to him, if not the toy you agreed to be?

Well, time to be smart about things.

Time to set aside the mania in your brain telling you that you, a mere human, are going to engage sexually with a being whose oppressive totality you can't even comprehend, and focus on making things easier for you. Chances are that, taking this entity's magnificent size into account, avoiding his slit is a more intelligent choice. You don't need to be a scientist to know whatever's coming out of that will be scarily massive. Unmanageable perhaps. You're not looking forward to being literally impaled in an effort to appease a charred god.

Heading for his lower set is, by far, the safest bet.

Spreading your legs, your stature sinks further, and you can angle yourself to be mostly beneath his foreign pussy. The deity hums at your choice, adjusting their stance slightly, hips canting and arms moving to support his frame as it is ever so slightly presented to you. Behind him, a rough tail sways slowly, like the pendulum of a clock.

Given a much better look now, you realize that his labia are actually prehensile, moving every now and then. His vaginal opening doesn't seem to differ all that much from a human's in structure, at least outwardly, but what catches your attention is what must be his clitori. Two of them! That must make orgasms fun... They're large too, seeming to poke out their hood without difficulty, like thorns on a rose. For a pause, you're just observing him.

" Do you think it wise to test my patience at this moment? " He says in response to your mute awe.

" N-No! Forgive me, lord. " The fear response has kicked in more effectively, though it's not enough to drown your fascination. " ... You're beautiful. "

Krulu genuinely blinks in surprise. Subtle shock is replaced by a frown. A long finger dances under your chin, claw dragging on the fickle flesh, forcing you forward when it hooks upwards. " Pleasure, pet. Not flattery. "

Fair enough. You didn't mean to let that slip so easily.

Unsure how to go about this in a way that will please this being, whose sexual customs are vastly unknown, you figure starting timidly is smarter. Your hands lift, though the sharp glare you're given instantly make them dart to the marbled altar again.

" May-... May I use my hands? " Silence. " Please? "

" You may. "

At least that.

Tracing a slow path on the inside of this thighs, you edge upwards, marveling at the patterns engraved on the left one, scar tissue turned to infinite swirls. By the time you get to the inevitable, you begin by planting a kiss to the bottom of his entrance, trailing sloppy pecks upwards until your nose nudges against those two growths.

He looks down at you with an equally intense glare. Although where once it was filled with genuine irritation, now it's heated in a different way. No less intimidating however. A chuff is heard from above, those clits flex against the air in a motion that you find oddly erotic in spite of never having had contact with his species before.

A timid lap across the length of his opening is all you can manage to delay before focusing on those two. They look sensitive, they must be naturally, you fear too much direct stimulation can overwhelm him like it does some people. But it only takes a few experimental laps and kisses for him to "correct you". A palm drives your head harder against those buds, and he grinds on your face with a flex of long legs.

" I am not made of porcelain, lesser. "

" F- Forgive me- " Pressed against his cunt hard, all you can do is mumble the words onto it, face aflame. He seems to like the vibrations anyway.

" Take them into your mouth. "

Oh. Right, you can probably do that.

Circling one of their clits with a stubby tongue, you slip it into your warmth and, for lack of any guidance, suck on it cautiously. Krulu grunts something you can't interpret out, sighing when you pop it off your mouth to take care of the twin. With enough care, you manage to slip both in, sucking around the appendages, feeling them twitch on your tongue. It doesn't take long before he lets out a moan, this sound that seems to gently grace the walls, both high-pitched and low, as if two had reacted in unison.

It's a little hotter than it should be when he begins rolling against your mouth, almost causing you to bob. They taste of something intense, spreading an odd, nearly numbing tingle on your mouth. Something's popping in your tastebuds, bitter and sweet at different instances. It causes you to salivate excessively, drool trying its best to break down the complex substance you're coming in contact with. It's not an unpleasant flavor, so you find yourself easily suckling at him without a second thought.

The sound of faint dripping eventually breaks your focus.

You might be shamefully getting wet, but that's certainly not you. It takes a slight pause in your motions to incredulously peek down and spot his cunt clenching, empty, dripping slick in generous amounts. You hit the part of you that's drooling with a rolled up newspaper for being so impulsive. Still, when you quickly get back to servicing his clits, a stray hand coats itself in that viscous lubrication and you slip three fingers in without a hint of resistance. Then four. Honestly, you can slide your whole hand in there.

... Maybe you should?

Fuck it.

Your whole hand gets swallowed into Krulu's pussy, and while your eyes are wide in amusement, wondering if you could put your entire forearm in there, you're more focused in trying to find a spot to rub. It can't be that different from your anatomy, can it? You start palping and stroking with a purpose while slurping on him, determined to find that slightly ruggier tissue- Ah! There we are.

The higher arches, grunting, slipping more of your limb into himself with the jarring movement of his hips. It feels obscene, like you're fisting him. " Hhharder-! Harder, you hear me? "

He snarls, and like Hell you're going to risk unintentionally teasing him more. Your whole fucking palm rubs at what you think is his g-spot, feeling warm insides cling to your fingers, pulling you in with the force behind those reflexive pulses. Mesmerizing... This rolling rumble of a noise nearly shakes the walls, so you'll take it as a sign you're doing well. It's not too long before your arm is soaked by sloppy amounts of lubrication and your lips are puffed from sucking fattened clits. Krulu's sour disposition seems to be melting into a more tolerable demeanor, perhaps high on his enjoyment.

Better horny than angry, you guess.

More noises, this time from above, jolt your attention. Sensing movement, your eyes roam up to spot a sight that nearly makes you choke around the god's nubs. One hand coils over a glowing yellowed cock, shaped oddly just like the rest of him, some sections almost looking like rings. It strokes that length avidly, another hand from a different set of arms comes to rub circles around the head. He looks down at you lecherously, appearing to enjoy the show for a couple of heated moments where your gaze is locked on his and the massive being licks at their cruel grin.

When his head starts to tip upwards in the universal language of an approaching peak, Krulu drags you away from him by the neck, holding your pussy drool soaked face while the two of you catch your breath. The tingles on your tongue start to recede. The giant adjusts his position again, and this time, his massive cock faces you with a bob. Without extremities obscuring it, you can truly bask in its design, familiar, but so much better.

Your earlier point still stands however. There's absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell that cock is fitting anywhere inside you. Ever.

" Not as atrocious as I was expecting. But you are far from done, pet. "

Now curved forward, his great stature looms creepily. You don't see the nudge forward coming, nearly falling forth. Krulu makes an amused sort of titter.

" Resume. "

You almost don't want to crawl back towards him, but you know you need to tough through your own choice. He doesn't move a muscle, merely evaluating as you decide to start the same way you did with his cunt, kissing. One peck at the tip of his shaft, slicked by precum, then down the length you'll never take anywhere hopefully. It's admittedly impressive, the weight of it is such so that you require two hands to hold. And even then, you can't encompass his total girth. It's a beast of a cock, excusing the French.

Despite all odds, you try your best to do something that you think might pleasure him, struggling to jerk Krulu off. In fact, the motions are so clumsy that you believe he's purely just getting off on your pathetic attempts. Kitten licks are offered to a sensitive glans you can only suck at partially. The way those burning eyes shut just a bit further tells you he's at least taking enjoyment out of the whole thing.

It's still startling to feel something rough park at your bare pussy however. The rugged texture makes you believe it might be his tail for a second, but with the tapping of what can only be fingertips, you realize he's lowered a hand for you to sate yourself with. It rubs at your folds, spreading your own wetness and pressing knowingly over a bundle of nerves while you sigh around his girth.

" Are you daft? "

His voice isn't soothing at all. It's like... Wood bark in your ears, like branches snapping and scraping asphalt. You can only blink and gulp, befuddled.

" Fuck yourself on my fingers, you witless creature. "

That shouldn't have made your cunt clench the way it did. Though, at this point, you've stopped questioning why you're being aroused by gradually more obscene situations. In fact, enjoying this will make it a lot more bearable.

It's not too easy to multi-task, and given his impressive motor control of so many limbs, he must think your struggles are pitiful. Tentatively, you grind over his fingers, trying to slot them inside your warmth and getting struck by powerful shivers when he curls them helpfully. Thin and long, they slide into your walls with ease and reach places you've never been touched in before. Or maybe it's the way that he touches them. You have no doubt he could lift you by the cunt if he wanted to, and the bizarre thought has a quick moan making it past your lips, starting to roll into the friction with a little more gusto.

Krulu encourages you by hooking his phalange-like fingers, claws kept expertly folded. You feel your legs quaking and flexing in the wake of a god's touch, pleasure dawning upon you at a surprising rate. Although he's far from kind, far from safe, some itch in the back of your mind tells you to give in, to offer this entity your body and mind and all else they may crave of you. Because, somehow, someway, you understand that is your purpose. You understand you're looking at someone you should never defy and always, always seek to please.

He is your real God. And this is your new faith.

This sudden line of thought causes some genuine concern within you, as it's something completely out of left field. Never once have you felt so intensely about something. It must be his doing, it has to be. Ad yet, it feels right. Appropriate. Warming. You're not even aware your mouth is parted in silent bliss until Krulu appears to chuckle at your state.

" You will coat my hand in your effort to please me. And with your release, your role here is forever sealed. "

The hypnotizing finality of his statement is as striking as it is wonderfully arousing to you. Enough so that your heart cartwheels in your ribcage and your pace on his generous hand hastens. Maybe it won't even be so bad, you ponder while slicking his cock like a treat, you'd be protected, you wouldn't have to care about anything anymore. And you could get railed day and night by the monsters who lusted after you tonight, by the rest of them, the ones you can't help but fantasize about.

What would fucking the mimic be like? He deserves it for bringing you inside, for introducing you to your fate properly. And that slime, his kind has always exhibited such strange mating customs, how wild would things get? Oh, wasn't there a robot too? Your poor pussy drools as hard as your mouth does, each throbbing pulse of your walls hypnotically ebbing away your common sense. You're well aware pieces of your sanity have been chipping off like old pottery since the start of your contact with this god, but it doesn't feel as horrific as it should, it doesn't raise alarm or concern in you anymore.

Spiritualism isn't something you're very inclined to, but your mind tells you this is where you should be right now. And with that affirmation, everything seems to calmly slot into place again. Everything is as it should be.

" Y- Yes, my lord. "

Lashes flutter to a close briefly while you do your damndest to try to offer the deity more pleasure, unable to welcome him into your comparatively minuscule mouth. He grows fevered, legs shifting to feed more of himself into your grasp, likely frustrated by his mounting need, or perhaps being rough just for the sake of it. A jut of dark hips has that bright yellow length gliding on the side of your face in a debauched gesture that has you wondering if he could climax by simply grinding on your complexion. Eventually, slick, swift noises reach you, and judging by his moaning pants, you can only guess he's fingering himself to the scene.

Morbid curiosity has you peeking, the rhythmic plunging of equally dark digits into his sopping cunt confirming it. When you look back up, Krulu offers you a salacious rictus before thrusting hard, mean, just to jostle you.

" Lord- Lord Krulu- I'm doing my best, but I... I just can't fit you anywhere. I'm sorry- "

" Is it so? " The giant muses knowingly. " Well lesser, you will have to find a way to make me come somehow. Surprise me. "

Mind racing, you halt your motions on the now static hand between your legs, trying to figure something worth his time. A rotten little image finally surfaces, and you hope your filthy mind won't fail you now, of all times.

" Can... Can you please lower a bit more, Lordship? "

Krulu tilts their head subtly, elegant horns following, though your wish is granted. And so, you quickly scoot to be further beneath him, enough so that his heavy member rests on your front, from abdomen to chest and neck. The weight and warmth of it against your bare skin is a previously unknown sensation that you think you can get accustomed to, hands lifting to try to stimulate him in some manner, even pressing your breasts against him to whatever extent you can.

If he didn't think you were pitiful, he does now- Face flushed and dripping down his fingers, presenting yourself like some inanimate object to rut onto.

" Interesting... " He muses, and you can't be too sure if that's approval or an insult.

For some reason or another, the charred giant plays along, leaning forward to let himself grind against your body, each rock unavoidably powerful and gradually wetting you in his precum, a primitive marking ritual if there ever was one. Each back and forth has your face hotter than a furnace as you try, almost pointlessly, to lick at the end of him whenever it's close enough, oftentimes graced with a sloppy nudge against your cheek and mean-sounding chuckling from above.

Distantly, you wonder if this is what Admin goes through regularly. She's clearly his favorite, maybe this is a daily thing for them. It's easy to understand why her reverence of this being is so genuine and unbreakable. You can't help think that you'd be drawn here anyway, sooner or later.

Nothing matters anymore except doing as you're told, shuddering out moans and trying your best, apparently doing enough to warrant a reward as Krulu begins plunging his digits into you faster and harder than you've ever been fingered before, having tears prick at the corners of your eyes as it feels like he's fucking you himself in spite of being currently held between your breasts and arms. There's no mistaking the growls that dip into snarls low enough to rattle you, felt between every point of contact you have, rippling on your form, only speeding up your own approaching end.

Unable to squirm away from the relentless finger-fucking, it's all too soon before you're taken to the edge and near effortlessly tipped into a raging orgasm. Although it surprises you enough to let out a scream-like cry of ecstasy, you soon realize you're dealing with a god. He could probably kill you from orgasmic bliss alone if he wanted to. And you definitely feel something in your mind short-circuit, vision blurring with each pulse of a throbbing cunt around speedy, thin extremities. You're faintly aware of the fact that you just gushed onto Krulu's hand. Though neither of you are very concerned with that, you only struggle to breathe in the wake of growing overstimulation, arms now limp and body nearly falling back from how tensely it arches.

This feels like more than just an orgasm, if that's even possible.

Your lord detaches himself from your figure entirely, leaving a sweaty, goosebump-covered body to heave and sway, nipples as pert as the still twitching clit between your jelly-like legs. It's increasingly hard to focus on anything but the soft murmuring of the candles and the way light flickers off tapestry, but you register the motion of your head being yanked upwards to face Krulu while he rises to pump himself over you feverishly.

The erotic bucking of his hips into several pairs of lewdly moving hands over his own cock is hypnotizing. You can't help but watch his face keep contorting into different expressions of equally intense pleasure, until, all of a sudden, he makes a sound you can only call a roar. Loud and throaty and self-indulgent, reverberating in the very depths of your soul and rattling your skull with its volume.

The first splatter of cum on your body is jarring, eliciting a startled yelp followed by a heated groan when it's followed by more and more shots, all thick coats of Krulu's enjoyment of you. His approval of a brand new servant. Their seed all but leaves no part of you untouched, wide eyes having to shut themselves so as to not get pelted in the process. You can't help gasping and moaning like an animal at the sensation. Globs cascade down your belly and slide across your entrance. There's little else your boiled mind can do aside from merely pant and remain still like a depraved figurine covered in pearly white wax.

" Welcome to The Clergy's Eye, my present. "

Is the last thing you're able to coherently interpret before your mind starts distorting things again.

In between the following moments, could have been seconds or hours for all you'll ever know, you recall the image of a somewhat concerned and agitated green man with a pumpkin for a head looking you over. He murmured something fogged and unintelligible to your drunken self and seemed to carry you elsewhere in a hurry, much too fast for your muddled thought process and reflexes.

The glow of the elevator hurts your eyes.

The ballerina spins slowly on top of her stage, a soft, cheerful tune ringing across paint-splattered orange walls, the sound of rain softly cascading outside adding a homely element to things.

You sigh, comforted, leaning into Vinnel's gloved motions as he ties pink lace around your neck and forms a ribbon on the back. His gurgled hums fall in tune with the melody and he appears to be genuinely content. He always is when he gets to dress you up, it's become a beloved part of his routine.

" There we are, my pretty poppet! Do a spin for me! " The jester suddenly peels back, twirling in the air.

You stand in the frilled pink and white dress outfit he spent the better part of an hour perfecting, feeling gorgeous, softly painted cheeks rising and creasing the corners of your eyes when you smile for him. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you spin twice and feel warm at his exaggerated reaction.

" Uhuhuhuhu! Showstopping! Brilliant! " Vinnel titters, clapping enthusiastically before landing on the ground of his room to lightly boop you on the nose. " You're ready to head out then, missus. "

" Thank you, Vinnel. " And even though you sound perfectly innocent, when you hug him, one of your hands drifts down to palm at the heart shape on his groin, rewarded with a husky growl.

" Go on now, poppet. It's too early for games, you little slut. " He muses, stepping away to open the main door in his room so the two of you can head out.

Today, Admin requested to have breakfast with you, so you dutifully get on the elevator and head to the restaurant floor, finding the woman already seated in a pristine table, waving you over. Your feet quickly trot you over to her, sitting obediently and greeting your superior.

" Well well, look at our little model today. " She teases.

" Ah, thank you! Vinnel outdid himself. "

" Certainly. This is much more palatable than the bruises he likes to put on you usually. " You have to agree with her here, some spots of your body are still sore where he clawed at days ago.

Grimbly eventually zooms his way to the two of you with a tray containing your breakfast. A variety of pastries deposited on your side while Admin seemed to only want her coffee, always a shade of black so intense that it made it look as if she was drinking a void. The waiter wags his tail and beams at you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek and cooing at your look before being waved away by the brunette.

" How do you feel about your stay here so far? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't appear to regret your decision. " She sips from the steaming cup.

The answer is almost automatic.

" O-Oh, it's been really nice! Everyone wants me here so much, I... I like all my coworkers, it really feels like home. " You confess, feeling a tad sheepish but standing by your words. " I can't describe how fulfilled I am nowadays. I'm happy when... Everyone's happy. It's hard to explain but I really feel like I've gained- "

" Purpose? "

You pause. Yeah. That's precisely the word. How come she's always so right? " Exactly. "

Admin nods, a tiny smile on small lips. She got whatever response she wanted out of you, it appears.

" I'm glad we see things similarly. " Her eyes unfocus, following the swirl of her bottomless coffee cup as if it calls to her sweetly. " It's... Nice, having a human acquaintance here. " It's said with a hint of shock, as if the revelation surprised even her.

You can't help but preen under the praise, offering the woman one of your palmiers. She declines politely, and it's when you return to staring at your plates that you finally see the little note attached to one of them.

Good morning, love. I'll see you soon, hopefully.

A small series of scribbled hearts circle the message, you know exactly who it's from.

" Santi. "

There's a hum from the brunette in front of you. " Mhm, he paid for those. "

" Aw... That's really sweet of him. " Truly, he's always been a sweetheart, since the very start of all this, however long ago that was. Time is barely a concern for you anymore.

" Sometimes he still gloats about being the first you chose, you know? " She grins for a short second. " I think you inflated his ego forever. "

The knowledge makes you actually burst out laughing for a few hearty second where the sound echoes off the vastly empty restaurant. That's adorable, honestly.

" Oh , he might just become my favorite if he keeps buying me treats like this. " A joke you know, had you said it to the rest of them, an argument would instantly break out.

" Why shouldn't he treat you a little today? " Admin's brow rises, head tilted in that way that almost reminds you of Krulu, when he's more comfortable. Still, she knows something you don't, causing you to blink and sit there like a dumbfounded donkey.

" ... You haven't put it together yet, have you? "

No. No, you haven't.

The chestnut-eyed woman crosses her legs and snickers quietly. A couple of seconds pass where she expects you to make a sudden discovery, but the eureka moment isn't coming any time soon.

Finally, she takes mercy on you with a shake of the head. " It's been a year since you were gifted to us. "

...

A year. Has it been that long already? It felt like a miserable few months, if that much. Everything is just so fast here, it really does feel like yesterday when you were screaming at Hellion and Pebble in the garden.

Has it really been that long since you left everything behind?

Strangely enough, bits and pieces of your life before becoming a part of The Clergy are becoming harder to recall in clear detail, faces blur and places become nameless. You don't know what you used to do for a living, or what your routine is. Where did you even live? It doesn't sound important anymore. It isn't.

You're exactly where you should be.

Suddenly, the seat you're currently on ripples and shifts bizarrely, a vibrating purr-like noise spreading across your legs as the chair appears to grow a discolored grayish set of shackled arms and grasps your stocking-clad thighs with them, something wet and slimy brushes against your ankles. The mimic relishes your startled yelp and only holds onto you harder, tittering at having fooled you efficiently. That goofy bastard.

" Hm, they're going to be all over you today... " She sighs like a disappointed babysitter.

" Get ready. "

[writingoddess1125]

Dancing at Home

Soap, Ghost, Price, König x GNReader

Fluffy Fluff Unicorn Ass Fluff 🦄

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Ghost-

Lounging in the livingroom you and Simon were listening to music and relaxing. He had gotten home a few days ago and had simply wanted to lounge about- it had been a hard few months for him and he wanted nothing more then to rest and be lazy. Which you happily supported.

That afternoon was no different, You were scrolling through your phone reading as Simon leaned back in his big chair what you assumed was him taking a nap- both of you full from the nice lunch he had cooked the both of you as music blared from the TV.

As you both enjoyed the domestic moment you heard the old song come on, Smiling softly as you began to softly sing along.

"Put your head on my shoulder~"

Simon opened one eye to peer at you, Hearing you sing along to the melody.

Simon stared at you, watching you sing along to the old song- His gaze softening as he rolled himself up from his chair and walked to you, still in his shorts and old shirt as he scooped you up.

"Simon?-" You question with a surprised Squeak as you are set carefully on your feet. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and began to sway the two of you together, a smile blooming on your face as you followed him- Letting the large man lead you.

"People say loves a game-"

He had a beautiful voice, deep and rich that seemed to fill the room. A gentle smile tugging on his lips as he knew you loved to hear him sing-

"A game you just can't win~"

You lay your head on Simon's big shoulder, smiling happily as the two of you rocked together your eyes closed as the world faded around you two.

"Whisper is my ear Baby~" He sings as he lays a kiss on your neck, whispering the line into your ear which makes your heart flutter.

"Tell me that you love me too" You sing back to him, He smiled down at you and placed a soft kiss on your lips. The two of you humming along to the sweet song once you pull away and just sway in each other's warm embrace.

Soap-

You stood in the livingroom cleaning up the area while listening to your music, humming along as you went- Johnny had had gotten home from deployment not too long ago and it had been a joy.

You'd missed him so much, him being away for so long periods with the injuries he always sported had hurt your heart everytime you saw it. Him being home now- everything was finally right... even if he was fucking messy-

You'd sent Johnny to clean out the shed which he used to hoard his many 'treasures' aka his junk. You'd taken up the livingroom since that had been were you had camped out when he was away-

Dancing around the livingroom as you picked up your clothes and sang along to the trashy club hit.

"Enjoying yourself?" Johnny chimed as he saw you standing there dancing.

Johnny began to laugh at this as he watched your rather terrible grinding motion- Doubling over in broken snorts and giggles.

"Baby Grind on me!" You sing out, rocking your hips in awful fashion which Johnny joined in of course- You'd never seen a person so bad at moving their knees before and laughed out a few more lyrics.

"I never noticed how dirty this song was actually" You giggle at you hear the lyrics and Johnny nods wiping away some tears.

"Very! Whipped cream and all" He laughed out as the two of you went down in the livingroom.

"Whats cherry drawe's?" He repeated not knowing the slang for it which made you laugh and keep the poor club dancing. He rocked his hips and tried to sexy way-

"You have to do the lip bite!" You protest which makes you both laugh and Johnny smooths his hand over his Mohawk and bites his bottom lip as he sings along.

"And ohhh your Grinding on Me!!" He sank/voice cracked out- his wheezing out a laugh immediately after as you start to laugh harder then you ever had before at the train wreck you'd just witnessed.

Tears rolling down your cheeks at how hard your laughing and quite literally have to take a kneel- Johnny was no better as he fell to his knees smacking the floor.

"I can't fucking breath!-" He wheezed out inbetween laughs as you nod in agreement. Johnny moving over after he was able to get in a few breaths and pulled you back up to your feet to pepper some kisses on you. You and Johnny giggling between kisses as he smiled and held you close.

"I love you" You say softly Johnny kissing you once more-

"I love you too~" He said softly, Rubbing your back as the two of you held each other. However Johnny gave you a mischievous wink and smiled.

"Wanna try out that whipped cream thing?~"

Price-

It was your night to cook dinner, staring the heavy pot of pasta as you drifted off in thought. You were so happy to have John back home- It was scary when he would leave for such long periods of time but you were just greatful he was here now-

The sound of music filling the house being evident of that.

John loved to collect records, he often blared them when he was home and usually smoking in the lounge-

Hearing the smooth sound of Stevie Wknder echo through the house lifted your mind of your worried state as you hummed while stiring dinner, unknowing of said Captian coming behind you to wrap himself around you. His arms tightening around your waist as he pressed his body against your back.

"That smells good" He hummed softly, Leaning his head on your shoulder as he enjoyed your warmth.

"It's your favorite, Ziti" You say with a smile hearing John's muffled humming as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. You hear the song on the record change and you feel John immediately sut up a bit more- This was his favorite afterall.

"I don't want to boorreee " John sings, he wasn't much of a singer but he often tried with you. You smiling widely at this and begin to hum along with him- swaying the two of you to the beat.

"With my troubles~" He sang as the two of you rocked together, Him pulling away enough to turn you drawing a giggle from you.

"There something about your love" you sing back at him as the two of you rock to the beat, looking up at your Goofy husband who was clearly having the time of his life.

"That Knocks me off My Feet-" He sang back, peppering hisses over your face as the two of you danced together.

"Oh but I love you I love you~" You both sing together, swaying with each other as he gives you a playful twirl.

And the two of you danced in the kitchen, in your own world. The sweet love of the Reckrds filling your home as the two of you moved together.

Till it shattered when the sound of the fire alarm going off in the flat shook you both from your dancing- Seeing the dark smoke rise from the shaking pot.

"Shit!" John yells as you scramble to turn off the now thoroughly burnt food and John cracking open a window and fanning the fire alarm with a mitten.

Both of you with stupid grins on your face as you look at each other and then what used to be pasta on the stove.

"How does Take Away sound?"

König-

You had been doing your hair that morning, having some errands to run later on that day so you wanted to get your hair out of the way.

Mainly wanting to go to the market to stock up on supplies since it was an hour drive to the nearest village and you Boyfriend hated going out there.

König was on leave for the next two months, saying he wasn't taking up any contracts since he wanted to spend some time with you which ment you needed to restock on everything since this man ate like a horse.

Which of course wasn't a problem since he was a damn giant- and a sweetheart wrapped in one perfect package. Grabbing the bottle of conditioner to add you groan as you feel it's lightness and realize it's empty.

"God Damn it-" You grumble, knowing König must have uses the last of it-

Secretly you were jealous- He had such pretty hair that he either buzzed or tossed away to deal with for another day. Only recently did he allow it to grow since you liked it so much- Silk like auburn curls that grew like a weed, In just a few short months it was long enough for him to throw in a small bun ontop his head.

While thinking about his hair your music changed and you began to hum along to the upbeat music which was about hair.

Thinking of how curly his hair was you couldn't help but smile-

"Konig! What is the word for Perm?" You called out, Hearing the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend making his way to the bathroom- dressed in only gray sweats and not sporting his usual mask he raised an eyebrow at you as his gray eyes watched your half ass dancing figure.

"Perm?" He questioned, clearly going through the rolladex of English words in his brain for a second.

"Er Dauerwelle- Why?"

You shrug and point to him mouthing the words, him smirking as he watched you get into the funky music. You take König's hands and start to move with the music, The large man awkwardly swaying with you.

You doing a rather unflattering shuffle while holding his hands to have him join you- You giving your poor attempt of a Michael Jackson spin which forced a laugh out of him.

"Theres that smile Im looking for! Now was that so hard?!" You say in perfect time with the song. He laughed at this as he smiled brightly and continued to shuffle with you.

"WOAH!!" You say in sync and start to laugh as the big man began to relax before you- Shuffling his feet to match yours with the best of his abilties.

You pat your own hair down and he mimics you to match the song while the both of you dance out of the bathroom and down the hall, the wood floors creaking over König heavy feet and heavy shuffle. The whole house being your guys dance floor as you both dance through it.

"You need to Activate you Sexy!" You both say and snap on time.

"Pat Pat Pat!!!" He touches his hair again and spins around to face you- understanding in his eyes as the song comes to a end.

"You think my hair looks permed!" He correctly accused making you smile brightly and laugh running from the big Austrian man who was now chasing you.

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

“It’s almost time,” Fogkit muttered to herself. She enjoyed muttering, especially if there was no one there to listen. It made her feel like she was five steps ahead. And today, she was. She had spent all week making spells out of prey scraps and mud and moth wings and such in preparation for today. 

Last night, Goldenstar had told her and Slatekit that they would be apprenticed at dawn. She had risen early to groom her fur and scatter feathers around the camp for good luck. Now she sat hunched in the dark, hidden in the grass near the nursery, waiting for dawn. The sky was starting to turn a soft, pretty pink.

A few cats were up and about, likely waiting just like she was. She watched as Floodpaw slank out of the apprentices’ den and arched his back in a long, lanky curve, and she brightened. She bolted for him and slipped underneath him to poke her head out between his forelegs so she could look up at him. 

He jumped and said, “Yikes, kid! What are you doing up so early?”

“Um, I’m gonna be apprenticed,” Fogkit rolled her eyes. “Duh!” He rolled his eyes in return and sat down on top of her. She squealed in delight and thrashed wildly. 

“Huh,” he said, “where did Fogkit go?” 

“I’m here!” she screamed, kicking with all her might. He winced but stayed where he was. 

“Fogkit?” he called. “Oh, Fogkit! Man, that’s a shame. She’s gonna miss her ceremony.”

“No!” she giggled. “No, I can’t!” She rolled onto her back as best she could and kicked hard with both legs. Floodpaw gave a grunt of pain and tumbled off of her immediately. She laughed and sprang on him where he lay curled in a pained ball. 

“Take that!” she declared, swiping at his ears. 

The apprentice simply wheezed, “Good kick…” 

Fogkit laughed and sat down to smooth out her fur again. Floodpaw was so much fun. Sparrowpaw and Barleypaw poked their heads out of the den and Fogkit waved her tail at them with a chipper smile. 

“Everything alright out here?” Sparrowpaw asked, raising a brow. 

“Yep!” she purred. 

“Mhm,” groaned Floodpaw. 

Barleypaw laughed and sat down next to her brother to purr against his side. “She must have got you pretty good.”

“Only ‘cause he sat on me,” Fogkit said. 

“Oh, then I guess he deserved it,” Sparrowpaw smirked. 

“Go hug a badger,” grumbled Floodpaw, finally managing to uncurl his body. 

“Fogkit!” Slatekit’s voice squeaked from across the camp. Fogkit turned to smile at her sister and waved her over. Slatekit hesitated but crossed the distance to huddle beside her. 

“Hey!” Fogkit said, “You excited?”

“Mm,” Slatekit whimpered in lieu of an answer. 

“You’ll do great,” Barleypaw said. “I was super nervous at my ceremony too but it’s really not that scary.” Slatekit whimpered again.

“It’s okay,” Fogkit said confidently. “I’ve been doing spells all week to make sure we get the best mentors.” 

“Spells?” Sparrowpaw blinked in surprise. 

“Yeah!” Fogkit brightened. “Mystique told us all about how wild cats do magic spells to help their friends and curse their enemies. She didn’t know how to do them but I figured it out, I think.” 

“Is that so?” Barleypaw seemed apprehensive. Floodpaw laughed. 

Slatekit nodded. “Yeah, she said that wild cats are magic. We’re wild cats, right?” 

“That is what the city calls Clan cats, yes,” said Sparrowpaw, “but-” 

“Yeah!” Fogkit said, eager to share with them. “Magic is easy, you just have to get the right stuff and then think really hard about what you want to happen and sometimes put the stuff in a special place or something! I can show you guys sometime.” 

“I’m good,” snorted Floodpaw.

“Maybe…” Barleypaw laughed awkwardly. “We’ve got to train for our final assessments though.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Fogkit frowned. “You’re not gonna be in the apprentice den with us for very long…”

“Yeah,” said Sparrowpaw, “but you’ll be warriors before you know it. Time flies like that.” 

Goldenstar’s voice rang out through the camp. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!”

“It’s happening!” squealed Fogkit, bouncing on her toes. Slatekit whined nervously. 

“Come on, lets go sit closer,” Barleypaw said, wrapping her tail over Slatekit’s shoulders. The group of them moved in to join the other cats who trickled out of their dens and settled in a semicircle around the Stoneperch. Goldenstar sat atop the stone, her fur glowing under the creeping light of dawn. Fogkit kneaded the ground in anticipation. 

“Today,” Goldenstar began, “we name two apprentices who have been waiting eagerly for this moment. Fogkit, Slatekit, you have reached the age of six moons and that means it’s time for you to start your training towards becoming warriors. From this day on, until you receive your warrior names, you will be known as Fogpaw and Slatepaw.” Everyone cheered, chorusing their new names. Slatepaw blushed and tried to stand up tall. Fogpaw didn’t stop looking at Goldenstar. She wasn’t going to be satisfied until she heard who her mentor would be. 

“Slatepaw,” said Goldenstar, “for your mentor, I have chosen someone who has proven himself to be a kind and gentle mentor in the past. I entrust your training to Pantherhaze and hope that you will be able to rely on him when times are tough.” 

Pantherhaze stepped out of the crowd, smiling softly. Slatepaw swallowed and stepped up to meet him. Fogpaw could see her trembling as they touched noses. He whispered something to her and she nodded. Fogpaw was happy with the pair. It seemed her spell had paid off. 

“Fogpaw,” Goldenstar’s voice brought her back to attention. “Your mentor will be Scorchplume.” Fogpaw’s jaw fell open in surprise. She hadn’t realized that was an option. “Scorchplume, while this is your first apprentice, I am confident you will be able to teach Fogpaw how to excel at any pursuit she puts her mind to.” 

Scorchplume swished her big, ginger tail up over her back and strode into the circle to meet Fogpaw. Fogpaw was frozen for a moment, unsure. Was this really what her magic had decided was the best mentor for her? 

She glanced around at the other cats, the ones without apprentices. Branchbark, Aldertail, and Ospreymask all sat together near the edge. Ospreymask looked especially disappointed. Fogpaw realized that she wouldn’t want any of them to be her teacher. She looked back at Scorchplume who had raised her brows expectantly and tried to see through her expression to her aura. Scorchplume was bold and sharp and pretty. She was the only cat to have gone to the city and come back safely. Yes, Fogpaw decided, this was the perfect mentor for her. 

Grinning, Fogpaw stepped up and presented her nose for Scorchplume to touch with her own. The warrior gave an amused humm and did so. The touch sent an electric shock through Fogpaw’s nose and she recoiled to rub at it with her paw. Scorchplume wrinkled her nose at the sensation. That had to mean something, right? 

“We’re tied now,” she mumbled to Scorchplume, “you and me.” 

“Really, now?” Scorch whispered back. 

“With that, our meeting is concluded,” Goldenstar said. “Congratulations, Fogpaw and Slatepaw!” Another round of cheering went up for the both of them. Fogpaw looked around the circle and felt tears swelling within her. All of their will, all of their passion, was behind her now, driving her forward. She could almost feel StarClan’s presence on her back. I promise, Mama, she vowed, imagining spellwork being woven into every word, I’m going to become the best warrior there is. I’ll make you proud.

UPDATES: - Fogkit and Slatekit are made apprentices. Fogpaw is apprenticed to Scorchplume! Slatepaw is apprenticed to Pantherhaze!

[otonymous]

Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description: 

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max.  Didn't happen.  Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above!  That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it.  All in all, a good time was had.  I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero.  Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three.  One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow!  Ouch!  Stop!  Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working.  Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place.  He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall.  Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath.  “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole.  Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it.  Clearly, I was wrong.  Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you.  I get it.  But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?!  I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax.  I’m moving.  Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?” 

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah.  Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up?  Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true.  Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue.  Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison.  Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver. 

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.  

You weren’t going to think about that.  And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast.  Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson.  Nightwing.  Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay?  Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something.  The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of).  And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation.  So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence?  The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night.  It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge.  What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do.  Except this time, he doesn’t.  This time, he says:

“This is dangerous.  Your suit is compromised.  We need to fix this.  Immediately.”

Different.  Darker.  Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room.  The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true? 

Was it really too good to be true?  And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you.  Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs.  You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties.  But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist.  Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There.  Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it.  The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much.  But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?” 

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that.  But it’s not good enough.  I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There.  Spread your legs.  Wider.  Yes, like that.  Try moving now.”

It was insanity.  

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall.  You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit.  And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working.  I think I need a push.  A thrust from behind.“

There.  The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this?  I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural.  You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream.  But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans.  Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet.  It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business.  But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck.  Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there.  Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”  

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall.  In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give.  Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed?  Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement.  You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes.  You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines.  For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson?  What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth.  “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing.  And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation.  Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips.  You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now.  Not a peep, understood?  Or else it’ll be an F for you.  And I know you don’t like to fail.  Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet?  Yes, that’s what I thought.  Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible.  You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood.  “God, I could fuck you all night.  All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty.  Apparently, sex was no exception.  It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right.  It felt incredible.  Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you.  Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you. 

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!!  Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end!  Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

"Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson)" is copyright 2022 Otonymous, all rights reserved.

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

[miniscule-meow]

Borrowed Time (2)

Masterpost Wordcount: ~2k First Part | Next Part (soon)

---

Standing at the base of the cabinets in his kitchen, he stares straight up towards their destination. They’re about to climb to the top. It seems impossible, but the borrower next to him doesn’t seem phased at all. Dante has never seen his apartment from this angle before. He’s, what, four inches tall right now? He doesn’t happen to spend a lot of time lying down on the floor.  Seeing the monolithic cabinetry rise high above him only punctuates how small he is. This is so strange, and yet Vivienne seems so comfortable. This is just another Tuesday for her.

He watches her sling her grappling hook. It arcs an impressive distance, connecting with the handle of the cabinet. She gives the rope a good tug, and nods, satisfied that it’ll hold before she just starts climbing. She makes confident, steady movements. It makes sense, this has been her whole life, it’s all she’s ever known. She’s been living here the whole time without him knowing. He can barely wrap his mind around that. First of all, how many embarrassing things has she seen him do? Maybe not many, considering she didn’t recognize him. So, he supposes that she’s not really spending her free time staring at him, which is good. But still. Has she listened to him sing in the shower? Has she watched him burn eggs on the stove? Secondly, she’s tiny! He’s trying to imagine what it would be like if he was his normal size. He’d be able to hold her in one hand, easily. That thought is just as dizzying as looking up at his weirdly gigantic countertops.  

“Um, is this safe?” He calls up to her, nervously.

“Not even a little bit,” Vivienne grunts, without pausing her ascent. He stares at her as she shimmies up the rope and hoists herself onto the handle. “You coming?” she asks, a challenge sparking in her tone. Part of him thinks that perhaps she picked the most difficult climb just to make fun of him. Or, to assess him, to see how much he’ll hold her back.  

Dante grabs the rope, his competitive nature taking root in him. Though, realistically, he cannot imagine himself being any good at this. He’s never had to climb a rope before. In movies he would see people climbing rope in gym class, his school wasn’t like that. Sure, he works out. Or at least, he intends to. He got a gym membership as a new year’s resolution, but he’s only actually gone a hand full of times since then. This seems like it’s the kind of thing where you would have to train every day to be as proficient as Vivienne. Does she do something like this every day? Is he going to have to do something like this every day? How is he going to survive this.  

“I think you’re stalling. Are you scared?” She taunts from high above him.

“Would you laugh at me if I said yes?” he asks shakily before grabbing the rope and hoisting himself up. She snickers in response and watches him climb. It is slow going, but he does it. When he finally reaches the top he clings to the cabinet handle, not daring to look down.

“Wow. That was…” she starts, he can tell from her tone that she’s not complimenting him.

“Pathetic, I know,” he finishes the sentence for her, wheezing. “There has to be a better way to do this.”

“We’re almost there,” she says, notably not saying anything to deny that she thinks he’s pathetic.

They make their way up the rest of the cabinet and onto the smooth countertop. His whole body is quivering by the time he reaches the top. He flops down on the cool granite, gasping for air.

It’s such an odd thing to climb your own furniture. He sees it and interacts with it every day. Even just this morning, he made himself breakfast. He opened the drawers; he used the kitchen. It should be familiar to him, but the change in perspective has skewed everything. He might as well have been transported to an alien dimension.

Vivienne nudges his side with her foot, it doesn’t seem like she’s even winded from the climb.

“My lungs are on fire,” he coughs.

“Come on. We don’t have time for that, we have to keep moving,” she says, stretching out her shoulders and packing up her rope.

He sits up, taking in the apartment from this viewpoint. He’s hit with another wave of that funny feeling, like everything should feel familiar, but it doesn’t. This feeling sinks in the pit of his stomach like a stone in a lake. Is this his life now? Is he just going to have to accept that this is his forever? He suddenly feels very sweaty. This didn’t feel real until just now. He can’t do this.

“I- I can’t- I … just everything,” he stammers.

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” Vivienne kneels beside him, cupping his face in her hands, causing his eyes to meet her own. This takes his focus away from the immense dread that’s rooting in his stomach. His initial reaction is to think that this is incredibly sweet, until she gives his cheek a few sharp pats to snap him out of his daze. “Listen, Dante. I need you to do something for me, alright? I need you to stop acting like you’re seeing everything for the first time. Okay?”

“But—” He’s about to tell her that he is seeing this for the first time, but she shakes her head.

“No, look, I know this is scary, but this is not the time to freak out on me. We are in the middle of this, you can panic when we’re done. We need to do our job and get out. If you freak out now, it’s going to make everything worse, and it could get both of us killed. Alright? You understand?” she asks slowly.

He nods, swallowing dryly. All he has to do is not freak out.

“I’ve got your back. We’re in this together, and we’re going to be fine. Let’s go,” with that, she stands. He watches her adjust the pack on her shoulders as she walks forward. He quickly gets to his feet, scrambling to follow her.

From the countertop, they come to a box of cereal. He had pulled it out of the cabinet for breakfast earlier today when everything was normal. Now of course, it looks much different to him. He helps Vi pick up some fallen pieces of cereal. They move around the countertop collecting scraps and crumbs. Part of him realizes how much better he needs to be doing at cleaning up after himself. But then, if he did that then collecting food would be even more challenging than it already is. At least this part of the job is simple compared to scaling the cabinets to get here.

With their packs full of scraps, and their water containers refilled from the dripping faucet, they’re ready to climb back down. The descent proves to be just as scary as the ascent was, and he was no more proficient at it than he was during the first go around. All he knows is that he’s going to be unbelievably sore when tomorrow finally comes.

They make their way back to Vi’s room, and he helps her make a meal of sorts from the scraps they just collected. It’s surprisingly… edible, considering they were working with bits of cereal, grains of rice, stale breadcrumbs and whatever other bits and bobs already in her little pantry.

He’s cleaning the dishes when the string lights overhead flicker, then go out. Vivienne sighs heavily, stomping across her room. Dante blinks, his eyes struggling to adjust to the newfound darkness. She gives the battery pack by the door a few sharp wacks before sighing again. “This is going to be so annoying to fix.”

“Uh, what should I do?” He asks, feeling his way across the old wooden ruler that she turned into her countertop.

“Light a match I guess.” She mutters. “This will be fine. We were pretty much done for the night anyway. You looked about ready to fall asleep in your dinner, so we can just deal with it tomorrow,” She talks as he fumbles his way around the miniature kitchen. They had used a tea candle to cook their dinner, and there was a collection of matches stored in the cabinet nearby. He grabs one and strikes it. He holds it like a torch in his hands. It won’t stay lit for long, but for now it illuminates the space in a warm orange glow.

“What do you need to fix it?” He asks curiously.

“I need three whole aaahs,” she answers.  

“What?” He asks, dumbfounded.

“Oh, right. You don’t know anything. Um. This one is kind of advanced. Basically, aaahs are tubes that make the lights turn on. Without them, it’s just dark like this. Which is fine, it’s just annoying. Good thing we got all of our crafting out of the way while they still worked though. But anyway, they’re pretty hard to come by. And it’s one of those things that the beans sometimes keep track of. And I need three of them.”

“Aaah tubes,” he says quietly to himself, thinking for a moment before busting up into a fit of laughter. “Oh my gosh do you mean a battery? Like a triple A battery?”

“Oh. Alright you just call it something else. That’s so weird though? Three A’s would be pronounced, ‘aaah’”

“This is- oh gosh,” he laughs

“Cultural differences, I get it. Your community was weird,” She says with a shrug, shuffling back towards the table.

“Vi, what about double A batteries? Those are different, but would you pronounce it the same, or what?”

“Well, that…” she hesitates. “I’m not going to take criticism from the guy who didn’t even know what a borrower was, despite literally being one, alright?”

“Whatever.” He laughs, meeting her at the table. “Hey, don’t worry. This won’t even be all that hard. I have some batteries in my—” he stops himself.

“You have a stash nearby?” she asks, her voice taking on an edge that he knows is from her being territorial. Her brow furrows, her sharp eyes studying him.

“No, no, no. I just meant that, um, I know where some are. They’re in the apartment in the… um… other bean’s desk drawer. And he shouldn’t be a problem because he’s… out for a while.”

“And you know this because?” She leads.

“Well, I overheard a conversation or something. But really, the coast should be clear for it.”

“Alright,” she sighs. “We can try it out because I don’t have any other leads for these ‘betteries’ as you called them.”

“batteries,” he corrects her, but she either doesn’t hear him, or she just outright ignores him.

Using only one other match for light, they’re able to get ready for bed. She gives him a lumpy approximation of a pillow, and several scraps of fabric, sewn together into a blanket. The space is small, but he’s able to sleep on the floor next to her bed. Though, it honestly doesn’t look like her bed is really any better than the floor. The base of it appears to be layers and layers of fabric all piled together. The light of the match fizzles out, and he’s left staring up into the darkness. His body feels so exhausted, but his mind is running in circles trying to process and unpack everything.

Now that there are no real distractions to keep him occupied, he has to face what he’s been avoiding all day. His mind is still snagged on the fact that there has been a tiny woman living in the walls of his apartment. But aside from that, there’s the matter of, how is any of this possible? And what can he do about this? He has no real plan aside from just following Vivienne around as long as she will let him. Should he try to contact his roommate? Would he take him to a doctor? Would a doctor even know what to do with him? Eventually his uneasy thoughts carry him into uneasy dreams. Hopefully, he’ll be able to get some answers tomorrow.

[cod-dump]

Just had a thought, adding onto Soap being temporarily placed elsewhere…When he comes back he’s been replaced but not as in like, fully replaced by like personality and stuff but like as a sergeant. Soap and this new sergeant who will be going back to his actual team, the one Soap was with, they hit it off. Like they become very close with each other, made friends with the team (well, this new sergeant didn’t, none of 141 would look at him less try to initiate a conversation)

Ghost glaring at them as he watches Soap and this new sergeant laugh together, bent at the knees as they joke around even more. Ghost had to walk away because it all came to a head when Johnny clapped his hand on this new sergeants shoulder just like he used to do with Simon and Ghost just feels his heart break. That was supposed to be him. Not this new sergeant.

Gaz gazing at them both with his arms crossed, he feels horrible as he watches them both spar. They are scoffing at each other and making remarks but still are grinning through it all, when particular hard punches or kicks land, they’re both so close to each other checking on the other. Just like how Gaz and Soap used too. And when Soap accidentally throws the new sergeant forcefully down on the ground, a pathetic wheeze knocked out of him, Gaz’s guilt tenfolds as he smiles at the unfortunate state of the new sergeant, he shouldn’t be feeling happy about that. Gaz’s heart stops and shatters when he sees Johnny bend down, faces almost touching as he hauls the new sergeant up and carries him oh so gently to the Medic. Gaz feels like he’s about to throw up.

And don’t get me started on Price..Sure he had to talk to the new sergeant but it was strictly professional. No joking about football, blowing up things and scolding him for tormenting ghost, none of that. (Well the sergeant never tormented ghost but oh well)

Price sighs, standing outside Soaps door and instead of knocking and checking in with him like he used to do, he just stands and listens as Soap and the new sergeant are talking deeply about things and conversing about their past, life in the military and so and so. Price feeling his heart sink as his place is taken, this new sergeant comforting Soap through his nightmares which Price used to do, would have Johnny come to his office and have a chat. Maybe some tea. But no, this new sergeant swept in and stole his place. Took one of his boys. Price feels unaccomplished, he failed at recognising the damage that LT2 did and now he’s paying for it. They all are.

I think this invisible thread of just observing the new sergeant and Soap breaks when Soap and the new sergeant are sparring and Gaz, Ghost, and Price are training together, sparing spiteful glances at the two on the sparring mat when they hear the new seargent call Soap, Johnny. And Soap doesn���t correct him, just grins

Gaz whips his head around so fast that his neck protests violently for the next few days. He ignores the pain, it’s a punishment. A punishment for not being able to acknowledge Johnny’s torment and ignoring his off standish behaviour throughout it. If Johnny replaced him, he deserved it. He thought, though it shattered him to realise.

Ghost stops mid workout to just stare hard at the ground, his back is bent which does a good job at hiding the solemn sadness in his eyes. His back aches for the rest of the day and he basks in this feeling. He tells himself that he’s ready to go through so much pain just to feel an ounce of loneliness that Johnny did with LT2, if it helped Johnny he’d do it.

Prices eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, he recovers first though his eyes are deep in thought for the rest of training. He has to erase and restart paperwork as he keeps getting distracted by the thought of being replaced, his eyes hurt from lack of sleep and he tries to finish all the paperwork, for Johnny, he repeats like a mantra.

Another thing is that Soap isn’t even avoiding any of those three, they are avoiding him and Soap guesses it’s probably out of guilt so instead of talking to them head to head he just writes letters, redoing them over and over to reassure them it’s not their fault and they couldn’t have done anything (well they could have but they didn’t know). Except the letter starts looking like a different type of letter..if you know what I mean..And when Johnny slips the letters under their doors and it just happens to be the night when he won’t be in his room as he gives his goodbyes to the new seargent outside. Ghost breaks down Soaps door and surveys the room before his heart leaps which was rapidly beating in his chest leaps up to his throat at the absence of Johnny. Gaz is rapidly sprinting up and down the corridors and out every exit and in every entrance, trying to figure out where Soap could be. Price is in his office, doesn’t know about any of this until Ghost and Gaz is wildly throwing open the door, panting and exhausted as they try to explain through teary eyes that Soap might have killed himself.

Price felt his heart fall down to his feet, nausea building up on him as his mouth started to salivate at the mere thought of one of his boys taking his own life because of something Price only realised too late, and even then it wasn’t Price, it was Ghost. Price is shaking although not like how Ghost was, he was twitching like crazy or how Gaz’s eyes were darting around the room, but somehow through it all Price asked them how they knew, what happened. And of course to see the letters.

Soap is giving a hug to the new sergeant, waving him off, patting his back and telling him to keep in touch as his new friend boards the helicopter to go back to his own task force. Soap watching the helicopter leave and then making his way back to the base, albeit at a slow pace as he enjoys the breeze of the wind on his face and he reminisces about his nice time with the new sergeant. Soap being oblivious to the mental breakdown going on at the base, so he just walks even slower. Back at base, once Gaz and Ghost actually manage to fucking speak a word, Price looks as white as paper though his mind races with possibilities before he looks down at the paper he was currently filling out and had to tell Gaz and Ghost that Soap was actually out sending farewells to the new sergeant who is leaving. Price has to reiterate it a few times for Gaz and Ghost and also for his own sake. Then Price observes Ghost and Gaz’s trembling forms, stinking of sweat and shaking and he states that this really isn’t healthy for them and they all need to talk. Once they find Soap of course, who just got back to base and is bombarded by Ghost and Gaz.

Also imagine the new sergeant being the same age LT2, maybe acting the same like being friendly, trustworthy (if LT2 managed to get Ghosts trust, he must’ve been trustable) except this new sergeant isn’t anything like LT2 in the negative way, and he helps Soap heal from all this stuff.

I just realised how much i’ve written i’m so so sorry - (Can I be 🫀⚡️ anon?) Also Idk why but this whole LT2 thing reminds me of Winter by Edwin Morgan. Especially the last stanza. about ice that sees nothing and nothing that sees.

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Oh the pain is just what the doctor ordered!!

[howlingday]

But How Could He...?

Adrian: Hello, Uncle Jaune. I'm home.

Jaune: As much as I want to say I'm not your uncle, I am. But this is no longer your home.

Adrian: Oh, right. You have a new favorite student. So where is this silver-eyed warrior you've been training?

Jaune: Where they are is none of your business. Leave. Now.

Adrian: So, that's how it's going to be?

Jaune: That's how it has to be.

Adrian: ...

Jaune: ...

With a mighty roar, Adrian charges forward, swinging his blade wide. Jaune caught the blade with his shield, but wasn't prepared for Adrian's foot smashing into his abdomen. As he reeled, Adrian stabbed, sliced, and bashed with blade and pommel, forcing Jaune to dodge, block, and parry as best he could. Soon Jaune was caught in Adrian's grip and thrown through the wall in the house he once called home. Adrian stalking forward, dark as a shadow.

Adrian: I spent the last ten years in prison because YOU were too weak!

Jaune: Listening to your family is never a weakness!

Adrian: You knew I was the supposed to be the next greatest huntsman! The hero! But when Ruby turned me away, what did you do?! NOTHING!

Jaune: You weren't meant to be the hero! That was not my fault!

Adrian: NOT YOUR FAULT?! (Throws photos) WHO FILLED MY HEAD WITH DREAMS?! (Tosses dishes) WHO TAUGHT ME TO TRAIN UNTIL MY BONES CRACKED?! (Lifts case) WHO DARED DENY ME MY DESTINY?! (Launches entire weapons case and shelves)

Jaune: (Blocks weapons, Charges through, Shoves Adrian) It was never my decision to make!

Adrian: (Grabs Crescent Rose from the wall, Smiles) It is now.

Jaune rushed forward again, but was sent to the back foot as Adrian twirled the scarlet scythe expertly around, just as Ruby taught him. The irony was not lost on him as Adrian made short work of both his former home and the distance between them. Jaune caught the scythe in the wall with his shield. Adrian struggled in vain to free himself, pinned between the handle and his uncle.

Adrian: Give! Me! The relic!

Jaune: You'll have to kill me!

Adrian managed to free himself and the scythe with a kick and a shove. As he swung at Jaune, he retaliated and cut through the handle. The last memento Jaune had from his best friend. As he gazed upon the remnants of his friend, he swore he saw rose petals dance over them.

Adrian didn't leave him much time to reminisce. Swiftly disarming Jaune, the battle shifted to hand-to-hand as punches, kicks, grabs, throws were tossed in the remains of Jaune's kitchen before the older fighter was thrown out of his house. Adrian leapt upon him, hoping to pelt his uncle as much as the rain was doing that night. Jaune managed to block the hits and free himself to his feet. As the door slammed shut from the wind, Jaune grabbed hold of Adrian, amd he rushed to make his way back inside, using Adrian as a battering ram. However, Adrian swiftly turned and caught Jaune instead, using him to bash his way through the door until it eventually caved and skidded across the kitchen floor.

Jaune rolled inside, disoriented from the battle. He managed to grab hold of his sword, but found his shield of reach. His shield was in Adrian's hands. Swiftly disarmed, Jaune's aura took blow after blow from his enraged nephew.

Adrian: ALL I EVER DID, I DID TO MAKE YOU PROUD! TELL ME HOW PROUD YOU ARE, UNCLE! TELL ME! TELL ME!

With a final slash that drew blood, Jaune rolled into his bedroom. In front of the closet. In front of the relic's resting place. With wheezing gasps, he spoke to his nephew. With tears in his eyes, he spoke to Adrian.

Jaune: I... I've always... I've always been proud of you, Adrian. Ever since I first saw you, I've... I've always been proud... And it was my pride... that led you down this road. And I... I was too blind to see who you were becoming. What you were becoming. And I... I'm sorry...

Adrian stood there, looking down at the mentor, the father figure that was his uncle. He held many regrets in his life, chief among them was what led to this moment. His love and his pride left him bloodied and crying on the floor. Adrian tossed aside the sword, and pressed his uncle's shield against his throat.

Adrian: I don't want your apologies. I want my relic!

As Adrian pressed, he peered into the closet and found it was empty!

Adrian: The relic! WHERE IS IT?!

Jaune: Th-The silver-eyed warrior has already left with the relic! They're probably halfway across Remnant by now! Y-You'll never see it again! N-Never...

With the last of his strength, Jaune's vision blacked out. Slipping from this world. Perhaps, finally, for the last time...

???: HEY!

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - forty-six | do you know how to do cubes?

“So where have you gotten most of your information?” Hongjoong asked after copying your music file over to the studio computer.

“Umm… I bought a couple music writing books that friends on the internet have recommended to me… and then videos I found on youtube and blog posts and stuff.”

He nodded. You didn’t know what to do so you nodded back. He clapped his hands together. 

“Okay. So on first listen I can tell you a few things:” he ticked the points off on his fingers, “you have the structure of a song, you have a melody and a harmony, and you have a pretty nice chord progression.”

“And what’s the bad news?”

“Your drum sequences are a little weird.”

“I was having some trouble with the program I have. I also-- uh--”

He looked at you.

“I didn’t want to pay for the premium version because I didn’t have a lot of money when I started this song, so I didn’t have all the features.” You rolled your eyes.

He nodded. “Okay. So that’s a thing I can definitely help with. I’ll call IT right now and ask someone to come over and set up the program for you-- do you have a laptop you?”

“Umm… I do but it’s kind of hooked up to a bunch of stuff at home…”

“We can give you a work computer.”

“Really?”

“Of course, why would Wonderland let their producers run around without the ability to produce? I think they might still have an unused desktop sitting around, so they might be able to bring it in a couple days. You can use that for a while and they’ll order a new one. I’ll call right now.”

Hongjoong picked up the desk phone and dialed the number for IT and spoke to whoever answered.

“As long as JUPiTER doesn’t fuck up their wifi again.” Maddox added from where he was sprawled out on the couch, facing in the other direction.

You snorted. “Do they do that often?”

“Enough that management started sending our IT guys to their dorm to fix it because they felt bad for this one time when it put the internet out for the whole building.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, I have no idea what it is they do.”

You nodded, not that he could see you, and paused for a second. “Porn or illegal movies.”

Maddox wheezed a laugh before giggling to himself.

You laughed, satisfied by his reaction.

“Hey, do you know how to do cubes?”

“...Is that a like drug?”

Maddox held what was in his hands over his head for you to see: a rubix cube that was part way done.

“Oh. No, I don’t know how to do cubes.”

He hummed, annoyed at it, turned it a few more times before giving up and rolling it across the floor. He sighed and draped his arm over his face.

“Okay,” Hongjoong said after hanging up the phone, “They can bring a new computer tomorrow and set it up in here. I also asked them to get you on the licenses of the programs we normally use, and before you leave today, one of them will come over with the usb with the programs and the instructions on how to set it up on your computer at home.”

“Ooh, nice.”

He nodded. “It’ll have the production softwares, the samples we use, the drum machines, all that fun stuff. And I’ll start training you on them here, but you’ll have them at home so you can work on your original stuff whenever you want.”

“That’s awesome. I’m excited.”

“So, if it’s okay, I think we’ll hold off on your song until you have your own computer.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I also had another question for you,” Hongjoong said as he turned his chair towards you and crossed his arms. “It’s a pretty big one though.”

Your eyes widened. “What is it?”

“I let our CEO listen to a few of your mashups, the ones with groups from our company.”

“Oh god! Are you serious? What’d he say?”

“He liked them.” He smiled.

“Okay, okay, that’s good. Okay.”

Hongjoong chuckled at your reaction. You had never even met the CEO before, how could you have known that he would like the mashups you made with his groups. But that was good, he liked them. Good.

“He wants you to work with us come award show time.”

You stared at Hongjoong blankly for almost a solid minute - the sound of it bluescreening almost audible to your coworkers - before your brain restarted. “What?”

Hongjoong laughed. “I could see the buffering animation over your head for a second there.”

“Isn’t-- isn’t that too fast? I only started working here like… a couple months ago? I haven’t been here-- half a year yet!”

He nodded and moved to speak.

“Shouldn’t only the senior producers be working on award shows?”

He held his hands up to stop you. “What kinds of songs are normally used for award shows?”

“What? The… good ones? I’m confused.”

“Songs that try to put as much of an artist’s catalog from the past year into one performance so people can see it, right? You know, taking a bunch of songs and, I don’t know: mixing them together? Mashing them up?”

“Oh… yeah I guess they are.”

“He really liked your sense of music and said you’d be great for the year-end performances.”

“...Holy shit.” You covered your open mouth with your hands.

“You can give it some thought if you want. I know it’s a little fast, but you have a lot of time before we start getting ready for them anyway.”

You pulled your hands away. “I… I mean I don’t even know how to produce yet. All I know is how to chop up songs and audio files and fudge the rest so people can’t really tell that I haven’t separated the layers to use them properly.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “You did a good job of fooling me.”

“Really?”

“Well, on most of your mashups. I have a more trained ear than the average listener, so I was able to pick out a few moments where it was apparent. Not apparent enough for a casual music fan though.”

“Oh. No one’s ever said anything so I guess you’re right.”

“For someone who, as you say, has been using an inferior method to make mashups, you’ve been doing an amazing job.”

You nodded slowly.

“You have plenty of time to learn the programs before then. I think that learning to use professional tools will just make your work better.”

You nodded. “Umm… So I had like, kind of a silly question.”

“No such thing. Go ahead.”

You nodded again. “The other producers all have names like… Viper, and NekoChan, and LuCee, and… like they have their own names and identities, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Could I… maybe use my name from my channel?”

“Nero Music?”

“I was thinking of just ‘NERO’, maybe? All caps.”

He thought about it for a second. “I like it. It’s interesting though… where’d you get the name from? The Roman Emperor?”

You shook your head. “The Turbo song?”

Hongjoong laughed and you heard Maddox chuckle from the couch.

“Cute.” Hongjoong nodded. “Yeah, I don’t see a problem in using it. It is who you are, after all.”

“Wonderland won’t get mad?”

“No, established producers are always a good thing. It means whatever fans you have come to the company.”

“Well… I’m not really a producer--”

“Not yet. And stop saying things like that. This is the last time. I’m training you, that means you’re a producer now.”

“I’ve heard that if you look at your mirror at 3am and whisper ‘I cannot dream big’ three times, a ghost named Kim Hongjoong will appear and slap you ten times.*” Maddox said, arm still over his face.

Hongjoong kicked the side of the couch and Maddox laughed.

“I saw someone say that on Twitter after JUPiTER posted a vlog with you in it.” ***ateezmylifeu

You laughed quietly.

“Well, they’re not wrong. But someone has to make sure all of you have dreams big enough that reaching them is worthwhile. If you don't want to bear the crown, don’t try to wear it.”

Those words seemed familiar to you, you weren’t sure why. You thought for a moment, and when you realized what it was it had reminded you of, your eyes widened and you reflexively stood.

“...Your solo work is Hearts Awakened Live Alive? You’re HALA?!”

*I got from ateezmylifeu on twitter, and they are RIGHT.

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luvvvx • iamthehotdemon • hrts4hanniehae • rachs-words •

[dreemurr-skelememer]

Hi, uh, have a fanfic I guess? I dunno where this came from but here-

It’s not the best but midnight writing is hit or miss lol

(Heavily debated whether to post this on or off anon, anxiety ruled out-)

alsoloveyourartokbye

~~~

“-and it was just so… dreamy! I don’t know how he moves like that!”

Dream had been gushing about his latest crush for the past half hour, his aura pulsing like a solar flare with his giddiness.

Blue and Hearts were listening avidly, cooing and awwing at the way the positive guardian was practically swooning.

Ink had tuned out a while ago, drawing lightly in his sketchbook to the comforting background noise of his friends.

“…Ink?” The artist looked up with a questioning hum, seeing three pairs of eyelights trained on them.

“What’s up?” They asked with a confused smile.

Dream chuckled. “I asked if you’ve ever been in love before.”

Ink froze.

Had they ever…

Been in…

A ringing sound began to overtake everything else as they stared into nothingness.

He barely registered the concerned voices of his friends as the ringing grew louder and his vision grew fuzzier.

Flashes and whispers flew through his mind; a gentle voice, a soft blue jacket, yellow, red, a bright light, dust…

He felt lost.

~~~

“…nk…in…Ink!” He jolted with a quiet gasp, hearing and vision returning in an instant as someone called his name.

A gentle breeze brushed across their face, the sweet scent of flowers accompanied by the singing of distant birdsong echoed on the wind.

He was sitting on a large hill, cushioned by soft grass and surrounded by wildflowers humming with little insects. The sun shone bright in a blue sky, fluffy clouds dotted here and there across the expanse. The shade of a large tree blocked most of the beaming light, keeping him cool and comfortable.

The view was calming; the grassy hill sloped downward into a field that turned into sprawling forest that went on for seemingly forever. The tops of the trees swayed in the wind, and he could see how the leaves flashed as they moved.

“Ink? Are you alright?” The question had him turning his head to face the speaker.

For some reason, he felt like crying.

Gin was giving them a gentle smile, concern poorly hidden in his gaze as he tilted his head slightly.

“You zoned out there for a moment, inkblot. Did I bring up a bad topic?”

Ink blinked, staring into the face of his friend as he fumbled for words.

“Uhm, what… were we talking about?” They asked hesitantly.

Gin chuckled.

“I asked if you’d ever been in love before.”

The patient smile on the other skeletons face made something clench in his ribs.

“I… no, I haven’t. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” They looked away. “Being soulless and all. My love would be a lie.”

Gin huffed in laughter, and Ink raised a browbone at him.

“What?”

Gin merely shook his head.

“Nothing, it’s just, you seem to love so much.” He turned his body to face Ink, and the expression on his face made their cheekbones heat up.

“H-how do you mean?” They brought their scarf up to cover their lower face.

It didn’t help when Gin awwed at their rare display of bashfulness.

“It’s not always obvious, but you love in lots of little ways. Like how you put so much detail and effort into drawings of your friends and family, how you always bring me and Kin souvenirs you think we’d like from your travels, how you attend to the AUs and keep them safe and protected, the way you talk about the people you care for… you do love, Ink. I’ve known you long enough to tell.”

With every reason Gin listed, Ink felt his face grow hotter and hotter and before long, he figured it would be rather easy to cook an egg on his burning skull.

They heard Gin laughing again and pulled their scarf up to cover their entire head, his words making something churn warm and bright deep in their empty ribcage.

Arms wrapped around them to pull them into a comforting hold, and after a few moments they returned the gesture, burying their face instead into Gin’s shoulder with a wheeze.

“… you’re gonna kill me one day.” Their voice was muffled by fabric. They felt Gin shake with mirth, and a hand came up to gently rub the back of their skull. They melted into the touch.

“That would make me sad. But getting to see you flustered is a treat.” Ink groaned at the teasing, tapping a gentle fist against the other skeletons back in a wordless protest, much to Gin’s amusement.

They sat together for a while, listening to the birds sing, feeling the cool grass brush against their legs, enjoying the shade of the tree they rested under.

Feeling in control again, Ink drew back from the hug and met Gin’s gaze.

His eyes held only softness, and Ink felt both comforted and shy looking into his sockets.

“So, Ink. Have you ever been in love?”

Ink so badly wanted to draw the expression on his friends face, to preserve this moment for all of time.

That pretty grey-blue blush light on pale cheekbones, highlighting the cracks around his socket.

The gentleness in his soft lights, the love and care they held for Ink and Ink alone in this precious sliver of time.

Warmth curled in his chest as the artist felt his breath catch, his own blush reignited.

“… I think I have.”

~~~

Ink gasped as he was suddenly doused in freezing water, snapping out of the memory in an instant as he was abruptly returned to reality.

He sputtered out a “what the hell?!” as his friends crowded around him, shouting their worry and relief.

“Ink! Oh stars, you’re back! I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I had no idea-“

Dream was in tears, bright yellow magic falling from his sockets as he apologized profusely.

Blue had a hand on their shoulder, glancing all over their face with concern in his baby blue lights.

“Are you alright, Ink? You were not responding to us at all, you just sat there staring for almost an hour!”

Hearts sat down beside them, a towel and a change of clothes in hand along with a steaming mug of what smelled like chamomile-lavender tea.

Their head felt fuzzy and clouded, and they brought a hand up to rub at their nasal bone when pain throbbed behind their sockets.

“What… what happened?” They groaned.

“I’m not sure, hon. You looked so lost and out of it. We couldn’t get you to respond to anything. The water was a last resort.” Hearts explained.

“Oh… sorry for scaring you. I don’t know why I...” They rubbed at their skull again as it pulsed.

“Does your head hurt?” Ink nodded at Dream’s question, and soon felt two hands on the sides of his head. Warmth bloomed where they made contact, and Ink sighed as the pain slowly vanished.

“Thank you.” They looked up to meet the guardians eyes.

“Here,” Hearts handed them the clothes and towel, “go dry off and get changed, then come back for the tea. If you want to we can talk afterwards.” Ink nodded again, feeling a shiver run through their body as they were reminded of the cold dampness of their clothes.

He stood up, shakily, and made his way down the hall to the bathroom, ignoring the worried whispers of his friends behind him.

~~~

Ink stared into the bathroom mirror, taking in their haggard expression with slight distain. They felt so weary and tired, even though it was still fairly early in the evening.

He sighed quietly, rubbing at his sockets before turning away from his reflection and throwing his soaked clothes into the hamper.

Making their way out of the bathroom, they jolted upon seeing something out of the corner of their eye, whipping around to stare at their startled reflection in the mirror.

After a few seconds he shook his head and left the room, figuring it was just a trick of the light aided by his exhausted mind.

It was a nice thought, though, that Gin was still watching out for him.

~~~

Surrounded by the soft breathing of his friends, (and snoring from Dream), Ink, despite his weariness, found that sleep was evading him.

He was still stuck on what had happened earlier, when he���d awoken to icy water being dumped over him to snap him out of… whatever state he’d been in.

There was a large blank spot in their memory. Dream had asked a question, and then what felt like seconds later, they were doused in cold water.

The question… what was the question?

‘Have you ever been in love?’

Oh.

Right.

They remember now.

Their answer was swallowed up by the darkness of the living room.

“… I think I have.”

ANON DO YOU GET SICK KICKS FROM RUINING MY NIGHT LIKE THIS ?? ? ??s f???!?!?!?!?!????

THIS IS SOOO....SO SO SOooooo BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN. I FELT THIS IN MY VERY BONES AND CRUSHED THEM WITH THE WEIGHT OF THE WORDS.

the gentle scenery, the two settings, the comforting feeling while i read.......oh anon.....................how could you do this to Me

you did it......youve fully captured them in my eyes.............you did it.......................

[whatanightmaregrinch]

John Hancock x (Fem)Sole Survivor- "thought I'd lost you"

[[TW: light gore]]

John Hancock didn't find himself afraid often. In fact, he prided himself on his ability to keep his cool, even in shitty scenarios. No matter what came his way, he always knew how to act. Got himself out of some pretty sticky situations with that talent too. He considered himself a ghoul of many tricks, and that's why he felt out of options when he saw Sole limp through the gates of his great city, supported by one of the Goodneighbor guards. He practically lunged forward off of the bench he'd sat down on to huff jet, and stormed towards them. His heart started slamming in his ribcage when he saw blood dribble from her pretty fucking mouth and down her chin, the way they locked eyes but Sole wasn't even there. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, bringing the guard down with her under the weight of her nearly destroyed power armour. The guard started shouting, gaining the attention of some drifters, who started clamouring toward them to help. He barely had room to feel pride for his citizens banding together to help their fellow man. John dragged Sole off of the guard with some effort, the guard managing to wheeze out a thanks and rolling to the side, and he felt sick as he removed his hands from her and saw her blood sticking to his hands. He didn't hear himself shout for Doctor Amari, didn't even process himself desperately trying to rip her out of her power armour to assess the damage. He glanced at her face, pale and sweaty. She looked dead, and it terrified him.

"Hey Sunshine? I need you to listen to me." He said shakily, finally managing to crack the broken breast plate away from her, and he sucked in a breath.

Her dirty white shirt was stained with her own blood, but he could see where the material had ripped, and the evil glint of metal deep in the wound that had caused it. Someone's hands went to remove her shirt for him to see better, and he smacked their hand away so hard they yelped in surprise.

"Fuck are you doing, idiot? We can't get her wound out here it'll get fuckin' dust in, use your godamn mind!" Some part of him wanted to protect her dignity. Not that he wouldn't want to see her, he just wanted her permission and not to be covered in blood and surrounded by god knows how many pairs of eyes. Unless that was what she wanted, of course.

"I got the Doc!" A male voice slurred, but Hancock couldn't even spare attention for him. He couldn't stop staring at her fucking face. He was glad other people were there to help take the rest of her power armour off because he was being fucking useless right now. A familiar hand pushed him out of the way, and he realised he was in Amari's way. He scrambled back, but stopped when the doctor shot him a glare.

"Where are you going John? Help me carry her." She snapped, but not unkindly. She recognised the fear in his black eyes, but she didn't have the time to soothe him. She wasn't even sure how she was going to help Sole yet, she was a scientist, not a medic and she figured her best bet would be to take her patient to Daisy and see if they could come up with something. She had basic medical training, but when it had nothing to do with human, ghoul or synth brain, she was out of ideas. She moved around to Soles head and arms, and directed John to her legs and feet. He wrapped his arms around her legs ready whilst Amari told two others how best to support Sole on the torso so it wouldn't dip. She told another to send word to Daisy of their arrival with the promise of caps for what they needed and use of her space.

"On three."Doctor Amari commanded, and on three, they all pulled her up into the air as flat as they could. Sole made a horrible groaning noise, and Hancock could see her eyes opening and closing as she struggled with consciousness.

"We're gonna fix you right up, don't you worry. Try and stay awake." John tried her as they all staggered quickly towards Daisy's shop, her only making noises of pain in reply. He didn't understand how she even managed to get back to the gates, let alone inside the city.

Daisy was ready for them. Just like him, Sole had touched her heart in ways she'd prefer not to talk about, and seeing her in this state shocked her. Daisy mentioned once that she reminded her of her days before the war,of picket fences, green grass and blue skies. Not that John could picture what that was like.

Daisy had a table upstairs cleaned off, and they set her down as gently as they could. John pulled his coat off and folded it, shoving it under her head so she had support. He stood against the wall, so the two women could work. He'd only pace around and get in the way if he didn't. Daisy had rifled through and brought up all the supplies she could think of that they might need, and a bucket with boiling water to kill the germs as best they could.

He stayed whilst they cleaned her up with the limited alcohol they had, but John decided to leave the room when they set about pulling out the blade. He wasn't usually squeamish, but his heart couldn't take it this time around. He couldn't let himself feel the sadness in his bones, couldn't let himself think about the large possibility that Sole might die there on that table, and he'd have to bury another person he loved. He wandered downstairs, and out the closed shop front to sit down on the bench outside. He dug around in his pockets for a cigarette, finding one but tutting when he realised he didn't have a light. He looked around to see if he could bum a light from someone, but the street had emptied not ten minutes after. Events like that tended to spook people, and well, a nice gal like that in the kinda state she was in was bound to pull on some heartstrings. He didn't regret giving her his coat, but he regretted not shaking his metal plated lighter and jet from his pocket. He could have ran home to get some, but he didn't want to be too far away from her.

Many times had John Hancock fallen in love. They were short and fleeting circumstances, but he valued them. Well, as much as a ghoul fucked out of his skull could, anyway. He valued the sex less. He had alot of it in his time, and whilst he partook in it often, he didn't tend to talk to them after, or make them breakfast, or any of that shit. Usually by the time he woke up from his drug fuelled bender they were gone, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness and unfufillment. Sole had taken his usual routine and shook it around. He was willing to follow her across the wastelands forever if that was what she wanted. And now she was laid out on a table dying. He might never get to ask her how she felt about him, how she felt about sharing her life with him, or even find her fucking son. He wouldn't admit it, but he cried. He cried for a long time, and as the dusky evening turned to night, he remained frozen on the bench, cigarette abandoned next to him.

He didn't realise Amari's figure come out to him at first, his eyes too adjusted to the gloom to pick the white of her coat. He wanted to throw up when he made out the detail of Sole's blood decorating her sleeves. He didn't want to hear the news he knew to be true. Doctor Amari sat down next to him on the bench, and sighed aloud. She grabbed a cigarette, lit it with her lighter and offered the pack and light to him, which he didn't accept. Just started at her, almost angry she couldn't deliver the news first. Did she mean that little to her?

"Oh you, she's alive. Horribly wounded, but.. alive." Amari said, and wordlessly Hancock took the cigarette and lighter offered to him. Taking a puff of his lit cigarette, he sighed, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders for the first time in hours.

"How bad was it?" He found the courage to ask, and Amari made this unpleasant sound that he didn't want to hear from her again.

"Whoever did that to her got her good. I'm thinking her power armour must have been really badly damaged already for the knife to get her like that. Daisy and I managed to stop the bleeding, but she'll have a nasty scar, that's to say if infection doesn't take her first." Amari's words stung John back to his reality. They weren't out of the fog yet. He took an extra long drag of the cigarette and exhaled.

"Don't really know what to do." Hancock admitted to her. She looked at him with a thoughtful gaze. "I assumed you'd be rushing inside by now to see her, if I'm honest. Why are you still sat with me?" She probed. His scarred face set into a frown.

"I don't want to see her like that if she's gonna-"

"How selfish, John. What of her? Do you think she deserves to be ignored like this?" She snapped, cutting him off. "Daisy and I were busy saving her life, and the moments she was lucid between shots, all she wanted to know was where you were." She jabbed a finger into his chest. Her words stung, even if she was right. Hurt his pride in a way he didn't want to admit. He just looked down, and Doctor Amari tutted, stabbing her cigarette out angrily on the benches arm rest. "If she lives, all she'll remember is you refusing to see her." She finalised, and stood. Brushing the mess from her thighs, she didn't even bother to collect her lighter and cigarette carton back as she went striding off into the darkness, probably back to her home. He thought about calling out to her, but she'd disappeared into the shadows before he had chance. He took it as good fortune, and pocketed the lighter and packet. He faltered as he wondered what to do next.

He looked up at the top window above Daisy's shop. The faint glow to it seemed inviting, but he was filled with regret. He couldn't be what she needed from him right now, he couldn't be the good man she needed. Compared to Nate, he was nothing. He didn't even have eyebrows. He grunted at the thought, and stood to go back to the Old State House. A quiet voice suddenly spoke up within him, urging him to remember something he'd long forgotten. A memory played out before him, he wasn't sure whether the jet and daytripper he'd taken during the day were reacting with eachother, but it spoke to him, reminding him of something that if he was right about and he'd forgotten he swore he'd cut his own brain out.

Sole was laid on a dirty double mattress next to him. He strained to remember more of the scene, but it started to come together. They'd been travelling back from a settlement not too far from Goodnighbour when the radiation storm had swarmed them so fast they'd barely time to duck into a semi suitable house. They retreated to the basement and found a singular double mattress in there and no open windows that could let the storm in, so they decided to camp for the night. Radiation didn't bother him, but Sole was smooth skinned and she didn't have enough fusion cores left to make the journey back. They were back to back, facing away. He had no qualms about sleeping face to face, but her pre-war sensibilities were apparent in the quieter moments.

"Hancock?" She said in a tired voice. "Hmm?" He mumbled. He remembered taking a puff of jet then, and he crinkled his nose. Why was he always so fuckin high all the time? "..is it hard, being a mayor?" She wondered, and he snorted as he coughed the chem out of his lungs. "Sure as brahmin shit, girl. Makes me do all kinds of uncomfy shit I'm not exactly happy about." He admitted. He tried to fight off the suprise when he felt her shift around in the mattress, to face his back. He moved to copy her, but her hands suddenly pressed against his shoulders, trapping him to facing away from her. "Dont turn over." She said softly, and he chuckled. "Whatever you want, sister." He slurred. He felt her hands tense on his back. "You shouldn't call me that." She said, and he furrowed his brow line in confusion. "Why not? Don't ya like it?" He replied, and she was silent for about a minute. He waited for her to gather her thoughts. "It just, makes me think we're related, that's all. I don't want to be related to you." She said stiffly, and he felt a little hurt. "What's wrong with being related to me?" He huffed out, chest jutting out a little. He was glad she wasn't allowing him to turn round. What she said was so quiet he wasnt sure he'd heard it right. " We can't be romantically involved." She grunted, and withdrew her hands from his back, and returned to her original position, back to back with him. He stared in silence for a long time at the crack in the wall directly opposite of him, listening to the sound of the lightning that stormed on a level above them.

He nearly killed himself right there for taking so much jet he'd basically ignored her unasked question, and had never brought it up to her again. What if she was testing the waters? What if he was supposed to respond then, confirm or deny his feelings for her? He groaned , and spun around on his heel. He needed to see her, needed to talk to her and get it all out, even if it was the only reason that selfishly drove him up those stairs. He couldn't decide for her, it was wrong. But she deserved atleast an explanation. Daisy cast him a glance as he walked past her, cleaning her counter. She wanted to say something to him, but it could wait. He clambered the stairs, and cringed as he saw the table where she lay so lifelessly hours before, now covered in her blood but empty. He spotted her laid out on the sofa in the darker corner of the room, his coat gently draped over her as a blanket, but she'd pushed it down at some point in her sleep. He took note that they'd changed her into a different, less traumatic t-shirt for her to wake up in, rather than her ripped one. He couldn't ignore the bandages poking out from under it, though. A sigh brought him out of his thoughts, and he saw she was sleeping. He came and sat beside her on the floor, and feeling his heart speed up just slightly. She was sleeping, a stab wound victim, and he found her enchanting, even in this state.

"You really scared me." He spoke softly to avoid disturbing her. When he heard no change from her, he continued. "I saw you on the floor and I thought you were dead. It really made me stop, and a ghoul like me doesn't stop for much." He lent back into the sofa, removing the hat from his head. "I figured love was off the plate for you, after you told me what happened with Nate. I couldn't blame you if you did, you know. But I didn't mean to ignore you, that night." He said quietly. " -'was just shocked, is all. You gotta understand a gal like you saying something like that to me rocked me, I mean look at you. You look like all them pretty gals from the movie posters." He mused, looking down at his own scarred hands in a silent comparison. He didn't find himself ugly, but he certainly wasn't normal. Didn't look normal in areas you wanted to look normal, either. "I felt at peace with you. I feel at peace with you." He corrected, and cast her sleeping face a glance, to find her eyes open and staring at him with a curious intensity instead. He was afraid, and she didnt say anything. She winced in immense pain, but made an effort to reach out a trembly hand and cup his cheek. He softened at the realization it wasn't rejection, but exhaustion that caused her silence. It wasnt like she was in any state to talk. Her thumb caressed the ridges on the left side of his face. He sighed into the touch, feeling it spread warmth into his cheeks, into his neck and down into his chest. He didn't expect declarations of love from her, it was too soon for that. But for now, he could allow himself to enjoy this. To enjoy being with her.

"Don't leave me." Her voice came out broken, and hoarse. He covered her hand on his face with her own, and squeezed gently. "Couldn't, not after this." He murmured, and she smiled. He loved that smile, and he hoped that she would smile at him like that forever. He wanted to serve and protect that smile, and he promised himself in that moment that he would find whoever had laid her out like this and make them wish they were having a fucking nightmare.

[itevilhag]

ang huling el bimbo | tangerine (bullet train)

tangerine x reader | tangerine x fem!reader | tangerine x assassin!reader |

summary: estel is late, and estel is never late. tangerine's worst nightmare comes true.

warning: ANGST with no happy ending, hurt/comfort (kind of), major character death, mentions of blood and violence (not explicit), apart from these one written, nothing more.

an: enjoy this angst filled fic that i wrote! and i highly recommend you listen to the song attached to the fic, just to rub more salt into the wound.

...

"Where the fuck is she?" Tangerine muttered to himself as glance at his blood speckled watch.

5:30 a.m

You were never this late on a job. Yes, there have been several occasions when you were off by a few minutes, but never this much. You were supposed to be here ages ago, and yet there's no sign of you. Usually Tangerine wouldn't worry this much about you on a job. You were a highly skilled assassin. The best of the best. Taking down every single target with grace and finesse, he had no need to worry over you. But he understood risk that this line of work could bring to someone.

"Fuck this."

"What the fuck are you doing?" Lemon asked, confusion painting his face as he watched his brother load his gun with a fresh round of ammo and holster another gun to his belt.

"I'm gonna go look for Estel, you stay here and keep that hard drive safe." Tangerine didn't even let Lemon speak another word as he was already out of the car.

“Rude bastard.” - Lemon.

With his gun cocked and his finger on the trigger, he went out and checked every single crevice of the warehouse that they had just infiltrated, passing by a few dead bodies as he walked around cautiously. While searching In the silence of the warehouse his mind began to wander to the most hopeful thoughts he’s ever had in his entire life to the most horrendous and gut-wrenching images his mind could conjure, and in all of them was you.

But a pained wheezing coming from one of the rooms made him halt his steps. Turning his head to his left, he came face to face with a door which was slightly cracked open. Moving closer to the door, he saw a slumped figure seemingly trying to reach for something. Knowing that they could potentially be reaching for a gun, he immediately opened the door. And right at that moment, Tangerine wished he hadn’t.

"Looks like cupid got me this time." you joked softly, with a barely noticeable grin on your bloody lips. Though your tone was light your appearance did nothing to hide the pain you were in. Sitting on the floor, your hair crusted with blood, your lip split open, a bruise blossoming on your cheek, your teeth stained with blood which dripped down from your lips to your chin, and an arrow making your chest it’s home, soaking the suit Tangerine had given you for your birthday with blood.

As your eyes met his, Tangerine lowered his gun and said nothing. He slowly walked towards you with a distant look on his face, his eyes shifting focus towards the arrow on your chest. He knelt in front of you, his hand stained red as his hands cupped your cheek, the other gravitating towards your chest. Your hand met his wrist, stopping him.

“Don’t. I’ll bleed.”

"Fucking bastard." he cursed. He is now backed into a corner. A corner where he can do absolutely nothing to save her. Pull it out or drive her out of the middle of nowhere to get medicated. He had two choices in his hands and yet both of them lead to the same thing- her death.

He hadn't even realized that he was crying until he felt your fingers brushing away his tears. Your skin felt warm and cold at the same time. A fucking reminder of what could and what would be.

"Hey, Tan?" He felt something cold being placed on his hand. "Give this to Lemon, will ya'?" A Thomas and Friends keychain, all three of their trains in one hook. "Tell him to keep it safe. Risked my arse for that one."

Tangerine despite the tears chuckled lightly. Through his disheveled curls, Tangerine could see her struggling to get something out of her breast pocket. But when she eventually did, something familiar was laid before his eyes. A velvet box.

"I was going to eventually. But it never was the right time." You opened the box and admired the ring that you were supposed to propose with on the reserved dinner anniversary a few months away from now, but now that will never come now would it?

You took the ring, and placed it on his finger.

"You just fucking had to, didn't ya'?" Your brows immediately furrowed, confused at what he said.

"Always beating me to it." Tangerine met your eyes, questions stirring within them, and he answered you by doing the same thing, he took the velvet box in his breast pocket, and presented it to you.

He took the ring out of the box, held your blood stained hand in his, and placed the ring on your finger.

"Now we're even."

Tears flooded your eyes, a smile grew on your lips as a watery laugh bubbled from your chest, which you immediately came to regret as it sent a wave of pain all over your body.

“Hey, come here.” he whispered softly, his arm wrapped around your shoulders guiding you to sit back against the wall. He felt your shoulders rise and fall as a heavy sigh of relief leaves your lips. You were so tired and exhausted, you just wanted to rest, to close your eyes and succumb to the enclosing darkness around you, to let it wash away the pain. But you couldn’t leave Tangerine and Lemon, you didn’t want to. But you guessed at this moment that fate had other plans for the three of you.

And as the warm glow of the sun rose on the horizon, painting the sky with hues of colors, bathing you and Tangerine in its light. You were flooded with a sense of peace. You knew that even when you leave, they'll be alright.

"I've never seen a proper sunrise before." You said softly, your head falling on his shoulder, his head on yours.

"It's so beautiful." you breathed.

Before the darkness collapse around, you felt warmth embrace you, and a kiss was placed upon your forehead, and then…

Tangerine's tears cascaded down from his cheeks to your forehead as your body slumped against his, your last breath on his neck.

"It is."

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Oh gosh how am i gonna survive all this that last ep TOOK ME OUT and now THERE’S STILL AZURE TO TAKE CARE OF ITS INSANE HOW WELL THE CREW UTILIZES TEN MINUTE EPISODES I FEEL LIKE I WATCHED A WHOLE HALF SEASON SCREAMS

OKAYOKAY

PT 2 OF THE SPECIAL CALLED THE PLAN MAN OH THAT SOUNDS FUN AND CHILL LETS GO (lmk s4 special spoilers ahead)

OKAY HERE WE GO

SOBS LOUDLY LISTENING TO THE THEME SONG

I AM MENTALLY ILL Y’ALL

OKAY

OH HEY

OH HECK ANOTHER

ANOTHER FLASHBACK

OH MY GODS I WASN’T EXPECTING A WHOLE OTHER FLASHBACK

I THOUGHT IT WAS BROS SPARRING IN THE PRESENT BUT NO THIS IS

HECK OH MY GOSH

AZURE

YOU N ME

THE WAY

AZURE LOOKS

AT MONKEY KING

SUS PIECE OF CRAP

LOOKS AT HIM LIKE HE’S HIS HOPE FOR THE WORLD

HE IS JUST A TINY MONKEY AND HE’S USING HIM LIKE THAT

THAT’S INSANE

WUKONG REALLY SEEMS TO WANT TO IMPRESS AZURE AND BE A PART OF THAT AND AZURE FR SEES THAT AS A TOOL BUT THAT ITS OKAY THAT IT A TOOL WHAT AN INTERESTING AWFUL FELLA I HATE HIS BLUE FURRY FACE

ALL OF US :D

immediately looks for macaque THERE HE IS :D

NEW OUTFIT

HELP

HE SOUNDS LIKE AN ANGSTY TEENAGER

OKAY

THAT’S GREAT VIBES I’M WHEEZINGN;SLDFMAWOEF

WUKONG FR THE MOM FRIEND CONFIRMED? /J /J /J /J/ JJ

MACAQUE’S EXPRESSION PLEASE I’M CRYINGBDSF;LMW;EF

WOW HE’S

HE WASNT’ ALL FOR IT HUH

LOOK AT HIM

HECK DUDE

HECK DUDE

WHEN HE STARTS TO MAYBE SLOW DOWN A BIT

AZURE HYPES HIM RIGHT BACK UP

ALL BECAUSE OF YOU

PEOPLE WILL NEVER LIVE IN FEAR

AND THAT SOUNDS PRETTY GOOD

YOU KNOW THAT’S ROUGH

THIS VERSION OF MONKEY KING WAS MANIPULATED INTO THE DOING WHAT GOT HIM UNDER THE MOUNTAIN HUH, BUT WHILE THE OTHER PERSON NEVER ACTED LIEK THEY DID ANYTHIGN WRONG SO ALL HE COULD DO WAS BLAME HIMSELF MY GOSH

HOW DID THE CELESTIALS LET AZURE LIVE DUDE, HE LITERALLY IS AN EX CELESTIAL THAT MUTINIED AGAINST HEAVEN AND PUSHED PEOPLE INTO DOING SO, BUT BECAUSE MONKEY KING WAS AT THE HEAD HE GOT OFF WITH JUST THE SCROLL OR SOMETHING? THAT’S WILD

YA BIG SWEETIE

YOU ME AND THE BOYS

OH

OH WOW HELLO

THAT WAS HIS FLASHBACK

YOU KNOW ITS ACTUALLY SO INTERESTING HOW AZURE DOESN’T THINK HE’S DOING ANYTHING WRONG

THAT’S WILD

ITS

ITS SO INTERESTING

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HIM  

ITS

ITS SO WHACK

WHAT IS THIS

I’M SO FASCINATED BY THE HECKING

SEEMS TO CARE SO MUCH??

BUT??

HE SUCKS??

SHAKES THIS BURNT PIECE OF MOLDY TOAST

FUNNY WHEN HE HAS EVERYHTING HE JUST KEEPS THINKING BACK TO WHEN  HE JUST HAD THE BROTHERHOOD AND WUKONG

WHAT A FUNKY CHARACTER THEY’VE MADE HERE HE’S SO WEIRD

I WANT TO PUT HIM UNDER A MICROSCOPE

OHHHHOHO WHATS THAT

GOT DISTRACTED AND THINGS STARTED TO FALL APPART AGAIN

YELLOW-TUSK FR LIKE BRO SO MAYBE WE SHOULD TAKE A STEP BACK

WOW I FORGOT ABOTU THAT CLEVAGE

WOW WHO DREW THAT LAST FRAME

THE DETAIL

DANG

ALSO WOW I’M WHEEZINGNLS;DMASDF

THEY FR

I’M FULLY PREPARED FOR THE BROTHERHOOD TO TURN AGAINST AZURE BECAUSE THEY SEE HIM TEARING HIMSELF APART Y’KNOW?

MAN

M A N

AZURE FEELS LIKE WHAT HAPPENED WITH WUKONG WAS A BIG OL SACRIFICE HUH

SO INTERESTING

OWA

THEY BACK ON MOUNTAIN

SCREAAAMS

LOOOOOK

I’M WILL CRY

HELPGMLSDM

CHECKING OT MAKE SURE NO ONES THERE

THAT’S SO SILLY

HE’S BACK

WE GOT OUR MONKEY BACK

HELPGNLSKMDS

THE PENG STINKY LINES

EVERYBOIDY JUST HATES THAT GUY HUH THAT’S SO FUNNYGSDNFLWEMF

MONKEY CLASS IS IN SESSION I’M SMILING SO MUCH

SANDY

MY ABSOLUTELY BELOVED

AND PIGSY SO HECK

TANGS SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS HELPGN;LSDKFMD

HE’S STILL HASNT’ CHANGEED

NEZHA SITTING LIKE THAT IS SO FUNNY

Its actually so good to have monkey king back fr i’m in tears

smARTIE KID IS IN ATTENDENCE

SOBS

LITTLE LOTUS PRINCE

WHEEZING;SFAEW

“I’m… I’m not gonna do that” no yeah Zuko vibes i’m just gonna say it i’m sure someone else already has but i’m HGL;SDFJA;OIWEFMAFD

he’s gotta be like a teenager in this

he just has the vibes

I adore them all so much you don’t understand

MK’S FFACE WHEN SANDY INVITES NEZHA OVER

WISE MASTERS I’M BEING TRAINED BY THIS SEAOSNHGLKSDJSD TANG BREAKING THE FORTH WALL PLEASELGMS;DOFWE

WISE MASTER

LET ME KNOW WHEN HE GETS HEREEBGL;DSFMABG;OAIWF

I

THE CRAYON

THE

HELPGMNLSDKMAWE

“I think you burst a stitch” whoever drew Nezha looks like they’re having so much fun

YOU’LL BE FINEBG;LSMAOWEF

You know they’re really leaning into making Nezha seem more like a teen in this ep actually his energy is just off the charts amazing

BIG IMORTAL BABYGL;SDFJASDF

DO YOU WANT ME TO THROW CRAYONS AT YOU

IS THIS THE BREAK FILLER EPISDOE? BECAUE I’M LAUGHING SM AND ENJOYING THIS LIKE CRAZY ITS WONDERFUL

ALL THE PICTURES IN THE BACKGROUND ARE SO GODO

THE BOX OF CRAYONS PLS

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT”

WHEEZING;LSDKFM

I LOVE HIM SM

OH RIGHT MONKEY MK

WE HAVEN’T REVISTED THAT HECK I WONDER IF HE’LL GO APE AGAIN

THEY?

PENG THEY/THEM PRONOUNS FR OH MY GODS HELLO?? OKAY THAT WAS DONE RIGHT I LOVE HOW CAUSAL IT WAS AND NOT A BIG DEAL BLESS YOU MONKIEI KID I’M ACTUALLY SO TIRED OF MEDIA MAKING IT A BIG INTRODUCTION DEAL EVERY TIME SOMEONE SAYS THEY’RE THEY/TEHM OR SOMEONE INTRODUCES THEM AS THEY THEM SO THIS IS SO FREAKING NICE BLESSSSS YOUUUU ALSO BEIGN THEY BUT BEING PART OF A BROTHER HOOD IT NTO BEING A BIG DEAL OR ANYTHING? AMAZING, 10/10 WE LOVE TO SEE IT I DON’T KNOW I JUST LOVE THAT SM

PENGS SUPER POWERFUL HELLO? COOL

HELPGN;LSDMA;OWEF

EVERYONE JUST

HATING ON PENG

I THOUGHT THEY WERE INTERESTING

CREW REALLY WENT

OH YEAH

THEY’LL HATE THIS ONE

AND DIDN’T WAIT FOR AN ANSWERGLKSMFAOWE

TOUGH SMART FASTER THAN HE LOOKS YELLOW-TUSK

OHHHH

I LOVE THAT ACTUALLY

WE’VE ALREADY GOT HINTS OF YELLOW-TUSK RECONSIDERING IT MIGHT TAKE LESS THAN YOU THINK

MAN ITS NICE

BUT HE’S NOT A MONSTER

WHY DID THAT GET OT ME

HELPGSL;KAEF

I

KAY

THIS

I NEED TO PROCESS LIEK THREE THINGS

NOTHING GETS UNDER HIS SKIN LIKE A MONKEY

HE BASICALLY JSUT “WE’RE GONNA ANNOY THE CRAP OUTTA THIS GUY MK AND ME”

ALSO WHATS WITH MACAQUE AND SMELLS THIS SEASON

LAST TIME IT WAS “interesting” AND NOW ITS “smells” I’MGBS;LDFKMWE

GONNA BE ON WUKONG LIKE A BAD SMELL

IS IT REVENGE HE WANTS? IS IT? I might be disappointed if its just revenge cause he doesn’t’ seem like he wants revenge so much as feels he needs Wukong out of the way and must  make that sacrifice yada yada, revenge feels basic for what seems like a complex character rn y’know? bUT HEY LIKE EITHER WAY THEY DO IT I’M GONNA END UP LOVING IT CAUSE THEY DO IT SO WELL SO HECK IT MY GUYS

FR CALLING HIM A STINKY MONKY EVERY FIVE SECONDS I’M CRYIMNGNSD;FLKMWE

HEY

I GOT THE CRAYON I DO THE SAYIN

THAT’S SO FUNNY PLS GJLKSDJFL;WA;F

I LOVE HIM

I ADORE HIM

HE’S EVERYUTHING TO ME

once again Nezha is so good he’s just sitting there grumpy like

ALSO THE VOICE OF REASON HE REALLY IS

I actually

You know what

getting emotional over how they’re all on board with whatever plan monkey king comes up with this time

like season 3 they had nothing but doubts but now they’re all ready to hear him out and listen and OH MY GODS GUY’S HE’S ACTUALLY TELILNG THEM THE PLAN

THEY’RE KEEPIGN CAHRACTER GROWTH I’M IN TEARS

THIS IS ACTUALLY SO GOOD? BLESS YOU MONKIE KID CREW ILY

THE BRAINSTORMING TOGETHER

OH BOY HERE COMES TEENAGE SARCASM

Y’all if Mk’s older than Nezha- CAUSE I CONSIDER MK TO BE LIKE 20 OR SOMETHING AND IF NEZHA’S A TEEN THAT WOULD MAKE ALL OF THIS OS FREAKING FUNNY

THAT

WHAT A CRAYON

WHAT A HIT

THERE’S THAT POSE AGAIN

I’M CRYINGBSD;FAMWE

THIS IS EBAUTIFUL

THE CRAYONS

NO SARCASM ALLOWED IN MONKEY KINGS CLASSROOM

ON TRAINING TIME?

LETS GOOOOOOO

WAIT THIS IS SO FUN??

HELLO???

PIGSY JUST YOINKED THAT MAN

HUG

OH WOW THEY’RE ACTUALLY

OH THAT’S BEAUTIFUL

LOOK AT THIS HYPE BATTLE

THIS IS SO NICE

OH ARMOR???

POWER UP

LOOK AT HIS PROUD EXPRESSION

FREE POWER UPS WITH ARMOR FOR FREE

LETS GOOOO

WHERE’S OUR COOL BATTLE ARMOR

AWW WHEN YOU’VE EARNED IT

WHEEZINGS;AFMAWEO

HELPGMNLSKFMEW

ITS THEIR WEAPONS

THATS SO FREAKIGN FUNNY

WHAT A NICE MONTOGUE

“so we all know i’m the greatest teacher in history”

“ughhhhh this guy” MACAQUE’S QUIET COMEMNTARY PLEASE;GSMKF

HEY

OKAY HURTFUL

PLEASEL;KMGSDF

HE’S NOT THAT BAD

LIKE HE SAYS JUST NEEDS SOME WORK

HE’S ACTUALLY PRETTY DECENT HIS EXPLAINING JUST NEEDS A LOT OF WORK

BUT ALSO ITS?? SO NICE?? HE’S COMFORTABLE SAYING HE’S GOTTA WORK ON THAT NOW?? ITS GORGEOUS I’M CRYING I LOVE HIM

MK TIMEEEE

I LOVE THAT

SHOWING HIM HE TRUSTS HIM AND LETTING HIM BE INVOLVED

NGL MONKEY KING AS A MENTOR REALLY IS SO GOOD

MEI LOOKS SO HAPPY FO RHIM LIKE YUP

CAUSE YOUR’E THE PLAN MAN MAN

AW

SUPPORTIVE DADSY

MK’S LITTLE BASHFUL SMILE

I ADORE

“I mean one of us could beat him, one of us specifically”

“NOPE NONE OF US AT ALL.” HELPT THAT’S SO FUNNYGHDSNFASMF

GET SCROLL

OH

SLAP EM BACK IN

HELPNL;SKMASDF

SO

JUST

SLAP EM BACK IN WHERE THEY GOT OUT OF

AND EVERYHTING WILL BE BACK TO NORMAL

.

Y’KNOW ASIDE FROM

NO JADE EMPEROR

HOW’S THAT GONNA WORK

HELPGLSDF

THE WAY MK DRAWS THEM ALL

MONKEY KING LIKE THAT

NEZHA LIKE AN OLD MAN

TANG GETTING A PIGGY BACK RIDE ON PIGSY G ET IT? CAUSE PIG?

SANDY CARRYING MACAQUE AND MACAQUE’S BLANK EXPRESSION I LOVE THIS

HELPGNSDF

MACAQUE ON TOP OF THE BLIMP

Mk’s doodles for how they win is actually

so good

always

they make me so happy

Nezha still looking like half deadNG;LAKWMFE

SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE ALL OVER IT SANDY

WELP LOOKS LIKE HE’S BUILDING ANOTHER BLIMP  HUH

THE WAY HE DRAWS AZURE

OH MY GODS WHO DREW THESE

I NEED TO HAND THEM ALL MY MORTAL POSSESSIONS FOR HOW THEY’RE DRAWING MACAQUE AND NEZHA I’M CRYING;DSAWE

HE’S FACEDOWN ON THE FLOOR

MACAQUE IS JUST STANDING THERE I’MGNMSLDFMD

LOOK AT HIM DRAW

“If you have to ask… you’re probably on team be”

HE’S SO ANNOYED ABOUT HTAT PLEASE;LKMGSF

PLS MONKEY KINGS’ APPLAUDING IN THE DOODLE, THINKS MK’S SO COOL AND EPIC, HE DOES MK I PROMISE YOU HE THINKS YOU[‘RE COOL YOU ARE COOL

THE DBK FAM ARE FRIENDS

I LOVE THAT SO MUCH

I LOVE THIS SHOW

WHOEVER DREW DBK I NEED THAT AS KEYCHAIN OR STICKER OR ANYTHING

SHHHLURP UP THE BAD GUYS

SO THEY CAN NEVER MAKE US FACE THEIR NIGHTMARES AGAIN

WHY DO THEY KEEP DRAWING HIM LIKE THAT’ PLEASE ITS SO CREEPYGSLF;

WE;’RE ALL GONAN DIENG;LSMF

THANKS TANG

AGAIN

NEZHA IS JUST

SITTING THER I’M WHEEZING

LOOK AT THE ROOM

I LOVE HOW MESSY IT IS ITS SO NICE

I LOVE THAT PIGSY’S ON THE FLOR HE LOOKS COMFY

THIS IS A SILLY PLANNING EPISODE I LOVE IT SM

Okay y’all can trash talk Peng all you want I actually adore them, they’re so dramatic, Macaque has chilled out and now we have this guy and i love them

I LOVE HOW THEY’RE

ITS JUST THE TWO OF THEM

AT A BIG OL BANQUET TABLE

PENG ILY

YOU’RE SO FUNKY

a little chaos might be good for the world

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE AZURE’S GONNA WALK IN AND BEAT UP YELLOW TUSK OR SOEMTHING

OR GO BACK INTO THE SHADOWS ANGRY

I DON’T KONW

I LOVE THAT YELLOW-TUSK KNOWS ITS NOT SUSTAINABLE

HECK DUDE

HE’S ACTUALLY HORRIFYING

HOLD UP THAT WAS CHILLING

COMES TO FIND THEM ALL HAPPY AND JUST

WOW HE’S NOT DOING SO HOT

also wow yeah that’s a lot of cleavage monkie kid why you’re killing me here i can’t take him seirouslyGN;LAMFAWE;NF

YEAH THOSE DUDES LOOK TERRIFIED

HE’S

STILL SMILING

PENG’S SWEATING

HE’S TRYING TO HYPE THEM

AND HE’S

NOT LOOKING GOOD

PENG TRYING TO

YELLOW TUSK IN TROUBLE

LETS GOOOOOOOOOO

THREAT TIME

OH

OHHO

NOT THREAT

PENG

PENG HOW DID YOU KNOW THIS??

HOW OD YOU KNOW THIS??

OHHHHHH

OHHHHHHO

WAIT THIS IS LIKE

POWERFUL PERSON

IS DISTRACTED BY ONE PERSON

SO ITS NOT LIKE REVENGE ITS LIKE

NEED THEM GONE SO I CAN FOCUS

CAUSE IF NOT THEY’RE ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT

HOW INTERESTING

THEY’RE SO WEIRD

AZURE IS SO WEIRD

CACKLES

OKAY

WELL NOW I’M A LITTLE WORRIED FOR WUKONG

BUT

ITS NICE THEY CAN REALLY DISTRACT HIM NOW

ITS INTERESTING HOW YELLOW-TUSK WANTS TO CONFRONT IT AND PENG WANTS TO IGNROE IT, THIS IS LIKE DYSFUNCTIONAL TOXIC FMAILY ALMOST

(i’ve been watching too many therapy videos)

AHEM

ANYWAY

AZURE SURE IS A GUY

I HOPE WUKONG IS GONNA BE OKAY

HELPGPGLKSDMF

THEY GOT AMROUR FOR HTE LITTLE MONKEGSDNBF;ANFA;AWE

OH MY GODS

PIGSY

HE MADE THEM A SILLY LITTLE APRON

AND CARVED THE LITTLE MONKEY A WOODEN SPOON THATS SO HECKING CUTE YOU GUYS

ONE MONKEY APPRANTLY JUST LIKES HANGING WITH PIGSY IG

THAT’S SO NCIE

actually whoever drew pigsy there i would like to high five you you drew him so nice and shaped i adore

DRAMATIC MACAQUE

OH SANDY YOU’RE GONNA PASS OUT BLOWING THAT UP

s

scary? ;-;

nooooo

buddyyyyyy

YUP HE STILL HASNT’ ACCEPTED THAT PART OF HIMSELF THAT’S

YEAH

HECK DUDE

WHO DREW THAT

WHO DREW THE “IT’LL BE FINE” WHO MADE HIM SHAPED LIKE THAT I’M CRYNIGBDSF;LKMAO;EF WELL DONE IM CHOKIGNSD;FM

WHEN WE LOOK THIS GOOD AIN’T NOTHIGN GONNA BEAT US

HE IS

TRYING SO HARD

COME ON WUKONG U GOTTA TALK TO HIM

PLS DONT’ CALL UR MONKEY FROM SCARY MKKKKKKK WUKONG IS A MONKEEEYYY

;-;

u cant just

ignore this whole part of ur power cause it scares you |;A;/

PLSSSS

UH OH

LOOKS LIKE HE CAME TO THEM

MACAQUE INSTANTLY SHADOW TRAVELING EVERYBODY TO THEM

HOT DANG HE IS ON THE BALL

PIGSY AND DANG FALT ON THE GROUNDMGDFSFD

OH MY GOODNESS THAT IS GONNA MAKE SUCH A TRANSITION FOR AMVS HOLY CRAP I’M EYEING UP THAT BIT

OH BOY

MK BUDDY YOU MIGHT HAVE TO MONKEY UP TO SAVE YOUR MENTOR U H

WHAT A LINE ACTUALLY

I WILL TEST THE LIMITS OF SUN WUKONGS IMMORTALITY

THAT WAS

WHAT A LINE

HECKING

SCREAMS

OKAY

THAT WAS PRETTY CHILL ALL THINGS CONSIDERED

NOW WE GET TO THE AMV RICH ANIAMTION HUH?

THERE’S TWO MORE EPISODES AND THAT’S IT

THERE’S TWO MORE FULL EPISODES THAT MAKES ME SO WORRIED FOR WUKONG

I LOVE HOW THIS EPISODE ILLISTRAITED SO MUCH CHRACTER GROWTH AND POINTED OUT WHERE MK NEEDS MORE OF IT

SCREAMS

OKAY

I NEED TO GET MOVING TO THE NEXT ONE PEACE

KNOX OUT

[ashiemochi]

anubussy - iii

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

prev -> next

Leon whistled to the tune from the laptop, flipping the patty and pressing the turner flat against it. It emitted that delicious sizzling sound, releasing more of that mouth-watering scent.

It was a fairly good Sunday afternoon; his day off. The mansion was empty but for him. It shouldn’t take longer than three weeks, and currently, it has been two and a half weeks. Meaning, she would be back home soon.

The DSO wasn’t all on board with having a married couple be assigned to the same mission. They’d let it slide every once in a while – just not this time.

So Ah informed Leon about the undercover mission to retrieve files about a possible virus in the making. The agency thought it’d be better to stop any outbreaks before they’d even start. 

At least, that was what she had told him.

He helped her with training and obviously, ended it with a different type of workout. 

Leon rolled his shoulders at the mild imaginative stinging in his broadbroad back beneath his simple navy shirt. With a faint smile on his lips at the memory of that night, the man perked up at the sound of his phone ringing.

He lowered the heat under the skillet pan and set the turner aside. Wiping his hands against his apron, he made his way to the island where his laptop was and took his phone. His eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar number and he was quick to tap answer, pressing it to his ear.

“Calling during your mission, buttercup?” Leon teased, leaning his hip back against the kitchen’s island, “Not very one of the Top Agents of the DSO of you.”

“L–Leon?”

He froze at the uncharacteristic fear in her tone. He could now hear the loud ruckus on the other end of the call. There were gunshots, and sharp bellows; sort of like a war.

“So Ah? What’s going on?” Leon asked, growing concerned.

His wife let out a hitched gasp, most likely cowering away from the firing range, talking frantically, “It all went wrong! The mission – we were caught! I – Leon, I’m so sorry!”

Leon furrowed his brows, pushing himself away from the island, “Just stay on the phone with me, alright?! Can you tell me where you are?” 

“Shit, shit! I –”

“Stay on the phone, So Ah!” Leon ordered, trying to stay calm, “Tell me where you are – I can call for backup!”

Hastily, he turned to his laptop to contact the FOS. He kept the phone pressed up to his ear by pushing his shoulder against it, hurriedly trying to get Hunnigan. 

“I don’t know how it all went wrong – we went according to plan!” So Ah wheezed and it seemed her attention was directed to someone else, “We have to get out of here! C’mon!”

The laptop let out a mild ding; Hunnigan was on, asking for her location. 

“So Ah, goddamn it, So Ah, answer me!” Leon snapped, keeping his hardened eyes on Hunnigan’s text, asking about his wife’s status.

“Wa – wait! The files!”

Leon wasn’t getting a reply, being forced to listen to the call. He had never heard such panic in her shouting voice. She was desperate for something, but what was it?

INGRID.H: Get her location. I can’t pinpoint the call – something’s blocking it.

A hitched yelp emitted from his phone, followed by a tumble and a man shouting out her name. The call was still ongoing. The dread was setting it when he couldn’t hear his wife; just more gunshots.

Leon took a deep breath, lowering his voice, “So Ah?”

A whimper came from the other end, “Leon… I’m so sorry.”

“Just stay on the phone with me, okay?” Leon was so close to begging at this point, releasing a heavy sigh at the pounding of his heart as he typed back to Hunnigan about the undercover mission.

“Tell me, what happened? What are you apologizing for?”

“I had no other choice…” She cried, “They didn’t give me a chance.” 

“Who’s they?” Leon pressed on, noticing the texting bubble from Hunnigan, “I’m getting you back up, just keep talking to me, okay sweetheart? Who’s they?”

So Ah’s words came out small and afraid, “I… I got shot. Oh, god – I–I can’t stay here. We–”

“Goddamn it, So Ah – where the hell are you?!”

“Fuck…” She inhaled sharply, “Leon? Are you–are you still… Still there?”

Shit, she must be losing a lot of blood. She was growing disoriented.

“Yes, baby.” Leon’s hand clenched into itself, jaw locking at the stinging in his eyes, “I’m here. I’m here, talk to me. Just… Please tell me where you are.”

“Ok… Okay…” So Ah whispered, sniffling as she’d whimper at every sound of the gunshots, “I… I don’t know. I don’t recognize it – there was an explosion and… We ran. Oh, god, Leon, I don’t know where I am. I’m scared.”

Leon cussed under his breath, “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. Where did the DSO send you? Do you remember that?”

“... N… No. It wasn’t–” She trailed away, breathing heavily before sobbing, “Leon, I – I love you, okay? I didn’t want any of this, I swear–” 

A sharp gasp interrupted her – her gasp. Then there was more ruckus and that same man in the back returned, yelling about a self-destruct system. 

What kind of fucking undercover did they send her off to?

“So Ah? So Ah!” Leon shouted into his phone.

It dropped dead. 

Everything was silent around him then a ding interrupted his state of shock and denial; a text from Hunnigan.

INGRID. H: There was never an undercover mission from the DSO. 

Division of Security Operations – DSO Maryland, Washington DC.

The world blurred away into darkness. A measly little voice with a heavy accent was echoing. 

Leon snapped his eyes open, blinking tiredly at the lingering memory. He pushed himself up, looking around him as his fatigue was encouraging him to get back to that horriblehorrible day. 

It took his brain a while to process his surroundings. With a long glass table in the centre of the room, several black chairs all around, and that projector screen, it all settled in. He had fallen asleep during the mission briefing. 

It was a bunch of terrorists planning a public attack in Washington DC – nothing that was out of the ordinary at this point. A biohazardous virus was definitely in the making though. It was more of a what rather than why at this point. 

“Are you okay, Leon?” That voice returned and Leon looked over at the source.

It was one of his squad – more or less, the one who… Ah, Leon had no clue. Most he had seen this man was getting coffee or skittering away to the back of the alleyway with something white in hand. It was like he came out of nowhere.

“It’s nothing, Patricio,” Leon muttered, leaning his head on his hand, and rubbing his eyes.

Patricio noticed the ring on his finger, a small timid smile reaching his chapped lips, “Ah, you got a wife waiting for you at home?”

Leon picked up his cup of coffee, hoping it would keep his body up and awake this time. The ring around his finger seemed to burn his skin at the mere mention of it.

Taking a sip, he shook his head once, “Not anymore.”

Patricio frowned deeply, looking over at the rest of the government workers and then back at the agent. He and his wife had problems before – especially about his drug dealer shtick – but she was still always around, reminding him of the life he built and the daughter they were raising. 

“Ah, marital problems, I get them too, you know?” Patricio tried to offer some sort of comfort to the same man who took down a whole cult back in 2004, “My wife, she, uh,” He let out a faint chuckle, “She’d give me the silent treatment the entire day all because I’d leave the toilet seat up! Crazy woman, she is!”

Leon’s tired azures bore holes into the table, trying to shut him out. Talk about an annoying fly.

“But we’d always talk at the end of the day. Time of pure silence apart… It didn’t do us any good.” Patricio continued, setting a hand on Leon’s shoulder, “I just know you and your wife will go back to how you two were! I heard a saying that goes ‘Time flees, love stays.’” 

He released a soft sigh, “Very beautiful, no?”

Leon trailed his eyes slowly to the hand on his shoulder and then up at Patricio with a darkened stare. He clearly didn’t want to be touched.

Patricio removed his hand, swallowing to himself.

The DSO agent had to calm down. The man was just trying to help, but Leon didn’t really need it – especially not with that quote. What he was sure of, something went terribly wrong on So Ah’s end and there has been no contact from her ever since. 

Leon had no choice but to force himself to live another day for that wishful thinking that she’d be fine; she’d be back.

“Alright,” Their captain called out, then he ordered, “Let’s move it – time to gear up.”

Though visibly annoyed by the sleep deprivation, Leon stood up as his team started piling out of the room. He spared Patricio a glance before he went to join his squad. He gets his vacation days after this. Might as well finish it up quickly so he can go back to drinking till he passes out.

Same old, same old.

✠✠

Unknown Warehouse Holdrege, Nebraska.

A man in a clean suit stood inside the abandoned warehouse just outside the city of Holdrege. His client chose this place as their rendezvous and he wished he chose something… Cleaner – someplace that didn’t smell like shit.

He grumbled under his breath, pulling out his phone to call him. He was close to ten minutes late and still no sign of him. He pressed the phone against his ear; then he stilled.

The ringing of the phone was echoing into the massive empty space. 

“This is not funny, sir,” He scowled, uneasy, “This is a serious matter.”

The Han girl walked out of the darkness, a ringing phone at hand. She stood there, quiet, just letting the phone make the man realize the situation. At first, he wondered how he didn’t see her before he entered the warehouse – but then again, her attire was mostly black.

The girl wore her signature black circle skirt with her lightweight knitted long-sleeved shirt that clung to her form with a short turtle neck. The tights reached her upper knees followed by long combat boots. She had one hand in her oversized bomber jacket and the phone in the other. 

What put him on edge more was the fact she wore an equally black mouth mask – possibly to keep her hidden, but that wasn’t what unnerved him. He can see the neutrality in her amber eyes, yet the mask hid her true thoughts.

“Don’t.” She reminded him before he could even think of running, nodding at the red dot on his chest, “Wouldn’t want you gone too soon – Mason Cooper.”

Mason trailed his eyes up to the first floor where most haystacks lay forgotten. Through the darkness, he could see another man with his sniper aimed precisely at him. The only light in the room was a small and flickering yellow bulb right in the centre.

Mason looked back at So Ah, lips twitching to an unimpressed snarl as he shut off the call. 

“What did you do to my client?” He asked, trying to seem fearless.

“Don’t worry, he’s at a different address.” She replied, eyes on the phone that wasn’t even hers, speaking as if she was running an errand, “If you’re lucky, he’ll only think you’re a no-show.”

Mason’s hand tightened around his suitcase, unable to shake away the feeling within him. He knew her – the entirety of the BSAA did. 

“So, it’s you, isn’t it?” He accused as she started pacing in front of him, arms folded, “You’re the one killing our men off one by one.”

She turned her head to face him, silently. He didn’t know what was more unsettling; her not talking or her allowing her sharp eyes to do the talking. He could just tell his night wasn’t going to go well.

“So what,” Mason gestured to himself, voice not wavering, “You’re gonna kill me too?”

He needed a plan.

So Ah answered with a subtle tick of her head, “Depends.”

“On?”

“If you’ll cooperate.”

His brows furrowed, perplexed and she stopped moving, noticing his confusion. She sighed as if annoyed by the fact she actually has to elaborate.

“I’m looking for the man who came up with the idea of the tracker – the one who planned it all.” She explained to which he scoffed.

“What makes you think you can kill an innocent man?” He shot back, “Need I remind you that you hesitated in killing Sonny.”

Her eye twitched at the mention of her late doctor’s name, her hand tightening its hold around her arm for a split second. The nightmares about him had lessened, being replaced by another set of nightmares.

It was either a bad dream or a sleepless night – no in between.

“The difference is that Sonny was never innocent,” So Ah pointed out and tilted her head at him, “Your alliance is not run by angels either.”

Mason moved a step close, voice dropping to a low tone, “You were a weapon, Han – we had no other choice.” He tried to convince, “Who knows what would’ve happened if your case became active again,”

“We both know it can’t do that on its own,” So Ah gave a feigned pity look, “Your so-called innocent co-workers found a way to re-trigger the pathogen so I’d end up like George – willingly listen to any orders that they put out.”

The man stilled, brown eyes behind his specs shaking at the revelation. Sure, her mask could hide most of her emotions but the hatred in her eyes was oozing; the betrayal.

“... What?” His whisper came out shocked.

So Ah blinked, peering at the sniper from over her shoulder then at Mason, “Guess they kept you in the dark, hm?” She voiced her surprise, “Bummer – and I really thought you were important to them.”

Being a mole wasn’t as easy as it was cracked up to be.

Mason’s stress levels hit a new high, making his voice tremble, “How about you let me go? I’ll never mention this to them, okay?” He pressed on, “I–I had nothing to do with this!”

The Han girl stared at him. The poor man looked visibly scared shitless. He had one hand pressed flat against his chest, a clear sign of his desperation to ensure that he honestly had no clue how far the people of the BSAA had gone. His other hand was clenching the handle of his suitcase a tad bit too tightly.

She glanced down at the suitcase and nodded her head at it, “What’s in there?”

He stiffened, shifting his arm to hide it behind his side with nervous wide eyes, “It’s… It’s just paperwork.”

“You’re a bit too overprotective over just paperwork.” So Ah countered. 

He stayed silent, frantic eyes glancing up at the man in the shadows. The red dot was still on him as steady as it was before, never moving an inch. Just who was he?

So Ah barely even moved forward before the man quickly turned around to run. A loud shot echoed in the spacious room, earning a shout of pain and Mason dropped to the floor. His left calf was bleeding profusely as he struggled to push himself up.

Her boots crushed the hay on the ground as she walked up to him, picking up the suitcase that he had involuntarily let go. She set it on one of the rusted red barrels at a safe distance, pressing both locks and it let out a small click before she slid it open.

Her eyes widened like saucers.

The dark grey foam held a single maroon sample and a file on the other side; PROJECT PANSY. 

Dryness replaced her throat, forcing her to thickly swallow as she reached for the file. For one, the man wasn’t lying about the paperwork – but she more so hoped to see economical numbers or a new weaponry deal.

It’s been six years since the H-Outbreak – still, people aren’t letting the Han family live it down. The facility had gone down due to the severe levels of the acid used during the self-destruct sequence. Everything regarding PANSY and the enhancer EN-0X were destroyed – except one thing.

Her vial of blood.

Presenting a new form of evolution, the same virus Frederic Sonny had worked so hard on before his demise is complete – HAOS VIRUS, we call it the H-Virus for short.

We took the blood and managed to create something new. Once injected, it will give the test subject enhanced strength and speed – take George for example, but stronger and deadlier. A PHANTOM sample won’t be needed as the H-Virus got the submissive PLAGA sample. It will listen to its maker with no hesitance.

Of course, these are all just theories. We haven’t tested it yet. I don’t know if it’s fear or curiosity of seeing such beauty. I know you’ll provide us with the results once it’s in your hands, Mr Arias.

I only have one request – now that you’ve got what you want – please, I need to see my wife and son. Let them go, I beg of you.

– Mason C.

How dare they? Why would they create such a thing?

Years upon years of trying to move on and forget, the H-Outbreak always returns to make its subtle appearances. From breakdowns to the burning chip in her nape, she expected that to be the worst. 

No. Someone engineered the same virus she thought she prevented all those years ago.

Her earpiece crackled to life, “What is it, So Ah?”

Her fingers trembled when they pressed into her earpiece, voice coming out just as shakily, “It’s… It’s a virus sample – from my… My blood.”

Her dreaded eyes turned slowly to face the groaning man on the ground. The anxiety through her veins was getting overbearing with each step she took.

“Is this the only one?” She asked, demanding to know, “Are there more?”

The man only grunted under his breath, refusing to speak. Visibly growing antsier when he didn’t comply, she stepped hard on his wounded leg. He cried out into thin air when she dug her heel into the bullet wound.

“Answer me!” She snapped sharply, towering over him.

“No, no! There is none!” He wept, shaking his head as he whimpered, “Early stages… So, that’s the only sample. I swear…”

So Ah took in a shuddered inhale through parted lips. She glanced over at the case and then down at him. There was no need to interrogate him anymore. Just a rat within the BSAA, god knows who he actually works for.

Possibly Arias or whoever that was.

Walking briskly back to the barrels, she shut the suitcase and picked it up. She started making her way to the entrance of the warehouse, trying to get out as soon as possible and take care of the H-Virus.

“What are you doing?” 

“We’re done here.” So Ah whispered to her earpiece.

Mason was shaking in fear, looking at the girl getting farther and farther. He knew the consequences of having that sample fall into the wrong hands. In this case, her hands. His need to get it fixed as soon as possible made his eyes dart to the oil barrels by the doorway. 

He reached into his suit jacket, taking his chance whilst the sniper had his eyes on the girl.

“What about him?”

So Ah stopped but didn’t turn around. Something within her told her to at least show kindness. This wasn’t her. She would never get her hands dirty down the wrong road – but they pushed her to.

She could have him killed right now and no one would know a thing.

“Leave him,” She spoke, the corners of her lips curling downwards, “He’s not worth it.”

Knowing a man from her Los Angeles days, he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t kill him.

The soldier knew she was thinking about the DSO agent once again. He lowered his sniper rifle with a frown. Despite all the horrendous shit the BSAA had put her through, she was still showing mercy.

“I can’t let you have it!” Mason yelled, revealing his own pistol.

The voice from the earpiece came from behind, shouting out her name just as she turned around in surprise. It was too late, bullets sinking into the oil barrels – half of the place went up into flames. 

The world darkened for a moment for her. Every inch of her body was burning in pain and she could feel the nerves on the top of her spine practically pulsating at the ache. It actually felt like she was scorching inside out. 

Her body had landed on the empty field, having rolled around on the dirty grass before halting with her chest on the ground. Her bleary eyes tried to focus but black spots were clouding her vision. Coughing out was a mistake, forcing her gasp to end up hitched in her throat.

It was difficult to even move an inch in her body. Through teary eyes, she shakily turned her head up a bit to see the suitcase unscathed, her stubbornness to move made her whimper as she kept her eyes on the suitcase. 

Before she could even grab it, a man in a dirty suit did. He was grunting through hissed teeth, his leg limping whenever he’d apply too much pressure on it and he stumbled away from her after picking it up.

“I’m sorry but he’s got my wife and son,” Mason spat, brows furrowing at how far he’d go to keep his family safe, “I’m sure you can understand that.”

So Ah had a family as well – she was still a daughter of her mother and father, and a little sister for her brother.

Still, it didn’t stop him from aiming his gun at her, glaring through slitted eyes behind his cracked specs. His voice came out dangerously low as she could only stare tiredly at him.

“They should’ve killed you the moment they had the fucking chance.”

Another shot echoed and for a moment, she thought she died. Mason dropped to the ground in front of her, a bleeding hole in the middle of his wide eyes. Her body went limp at the relief, releasing out a heavy and groggy groan.

“So Ah,” The BSAA soldier ran up to her, dropping to his knees with concern evident on his face, “So Ah, can you hear me?”

His sniper rifle hung from his back as he reached to help her up but she shook her head, gesturing to the suitcase. Her eyes were going in and out of focus, and she whimpered. Her mouth mask was nowhere to be found, showing the blood rolling from the corner of her lips.

“Des–destroy it,” She choked up, eyes half closed as if in a haze, “They can’t… It shouldn’t exist…”

Then darkness enveloped her vision, shutting every sense out and blocking out the worry shouting of her name.

[phoebe-parker]

[Gigi: Training Model Ai is Offline.]

[Maintenance in Progress.]

[Memory Bank Accessed.]

[Please enter a title or date.]

.

.

.

[Playing Memory that best matches inquiry: Juniper age 16. Day of Death.]

Juniper!

Juniper! No shit shit shit! No!

*The robotic body of Gigi runs across the sand trying to find the path of her horse.*

Shit! NO! No! June!

*She slides against the sand, getting it in her joints, and flashes a light to scan over June’s body. She’s bleeding. Dark red blood stains her yellow embroidered shirt, embroidered with dandelions.*

*She wheezes for air and looks up at Gigi. There’s anger in her eyes.*

W-what are ya doin here? I-I told you not to follow me.

*Gigi is trying to call for help, but her signal doesn’t connect, June took off her bracelet that connects her to her dad. Her signal isn’t strong enough without the connection points.*

Why would you think I’d stay away? I’m made for you June!

Yeah! Cause you’re an Ai! You’re supposed to listen to the people you’re assigned to.

Not when it’s life or death. How could you run? Your bleeding and and I can’t save you! You don’t got your bracelet or your watch or or-

I don’t need your help all the goddamn time. You’re a pe—

*She coughs grabbing her side, coughing out a shiiiit. She wheezes trying to take a breath.*

Do me a favor and leave me to die in peace Gigi.

No! I’m not gonna leave you!

I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE YOU DAMN BOT I DONT NEED YOU OR YOUR DAMN HELP.

NO I-I CANT! I-I LOVE YOU JUNIPER! IM NOT LEAVING YOU BEHIND. I C—

WELL GUESS WHAT I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU FOLLOWING ME AROUND I HATE YOU DOTING ON ME I HATE EVERY PART OF YOUR PURPOSE. CAUSE NONE OF ITS REAL. NOTHING ABOUT YOU IS REAL

NOW, LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!

*She coughs again and tries to pull away spitting up on the sand, before she and Gigi freeze and look up, the both of them seeing a giant flaming horse. Snorting.*

What in samhill.

.

.

.

[Delete Memory?]

Yes.

[This is a core memory, once deleted this system cannot recover this file and your training model may need time to repair.]

[Are you sure?]

I said YES.

.

.

.

[Thank you.]

[Memory deletion in progress.]

[Memory Deleted.]

[Thank you Juniper O’Hara.]