#I almost felt like being a jerk and putting ‘eating apples/murder!’ or something like that but I resisted haha

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[hoochieblues]

“It’s really not that complicated.” For pre-merged Justice & Anders?

Thank you! This was so fun. for @dadrunkwriting

A hand of Wicked Grace in the Vigil leads Justice to consider mortal experiences - and Anders - in a new light.

Anders & Justice | 1583 words T for violence mentions + language?

                          _________________________________

Playing Wicked Grace challenged Justice, and not merely because—if he didn’t keep gloves on—Kristoff’s fingers occasionally dropped off, or stuck to the cards.

It was a social ritual, that much was clear. Like drinking or mealtimes, which the Warden-Commander had delicately asked him to refrain from attending, it was more about the time spent together than the focus on the activity itself. This was odd, but then so much of what mortals did involved finding ways to occupy parts of themselves while they were doing something else.

In a world that was as stagnant and unyielding as the mortal realm, that almost made sense. These cards in his fingers, they had faces—personalities, even; Anders had explained the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ ones, and said that some people used them to tell fortunes, ascribing meaning to the symbols beyond the rules of the game—but they did not live, they did not move. They did not feel, any more than a table or a stone or anything else that, in the Fade, would have been a part of something, a manifestation of will, of matter that existed within some being, some mind.

When mortals were so cut off from the world around them, it made sense to seek comfort and inspiration from each other, rather than physical things. Yet having to reach so far to find anything beyond the self was terrifying. There was no telling where you would find it, or what it might be… and that was very like the trouble with the card game.

Mortals were, Justice was learning, inherently dishonest. They lied, cheated, dissembled—to themselves as much as to each other—and they took an odd pride in it, as if it were evidence of mastery over something.

The rules to Wicked Grace, Anders said, were merely guidelines. The whole point was to cheat, but without getting caught, and Justice was loosely grasping that this was a dishonesty that was expected, even cherished, by the players… but it felt indirect and unjust, this skill built on slippery deceit.

Besides, every time he tried to draw from the discard pile, either Anders or Nathaniel noticed.

“It’s really not that complicated.” Anders rocked back in his chair, cards fanned out in his fingers. He jerked his head towards the stout oak door at the end of the room. “Take our dear Commander, for instance. How d’you think she got where she is?”

Oghren, seated to his left and glaring morosely into a pint mug filled with spiced apple juice, grunted. “Everybody knows that story. She cut off a noble’s balls ’n’ made him eat ’em.” His brow furrowed for a moment, and he shot a guilty look at Nathaniel. “Wait, that wasn’t your pa, was it?”

Nate raised one dark eyebrow over his Grace hand, which he was focusing on studiously. “No, he was the other arl. I mean, she killed him, yes, but I don’t think—”

“Ooh, she never,” Anders said, with a fatuous grin. The whole table was on the same soft cider, in deference to the Commander’s order—temptation was not to be put in Oghren’s way, no matter what—but all evening he’d been topping off his mug from a flask secreted somewhere in his robes, with about as much subtlety as he’d been cheating at cards. “Did she? Make him—?”

“S’what I heard.”

“Unlikely at best,” Nathaniel said dryly. “Kendells’ murder was sensationalised by the regent. Besides, I don’t see how you could….”

There was a brief silence during which the men at the table considered the imagery, and their Commander: a slight elven woman who, despite an outwardly gentle manner, cursed like a sailor in fights and had once killed an ogre with a fire grenade… albeit that she set herself alight doing it.

“I’m raising to two silvers,” Nate said, pushing a couple of coins into the centre of the table. “You boys in?”

“I’ll see that. And I dunno if you can call it a murder. Not really. Only technically. But what does that really mean anyway?”

Justice studied his cards, counting numbers and crimes in his head. The Commander’s story was a righteous one: her conscription into the Grey Wardens the payment for a crime she had committed to save a loved one, and that… that notion of love, was what Anders had meant. The conversation had been fragmented and hard to follow, but Justice was reasonably sure he understood.

“Your point was that all things are done by people from love,” he said, meeting Anders’ surprised, dark amber gaze. “That is true, isn’t it? That is what is not… complicated?”

Oghren snorted into his mug. “Love’s the most complicated thing there is, buddy.”

Anders shrugged. “What? Yeah. I guess. I mean, she stood up for her people, right? And the reason she’s stuck out here with us—our scintillating company aside—is because she’s whatsit not grata in Denerim, after what she did there. Which she did for the Bast—”

“Pike-twirler. That little prick.”

“—thank you, yes. So what I was saying, Justice, is that humans—sorry, Oghren—people, do pretty much everything because of someone else. Either to help them, or to hide from them. We’re… a very interconnected lot. Call it love if you like. People do things on account of others because they love them… or avoid doing them, because we love ourselves more.”

He seemed pleased with that point, and flicked another couple of silvers into the pot, hand swooping over the cut pack as he did so. Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“If you love your fingers, you’ll drop that six of serpents, too.”

“Oh, knickers. Fine.”

Justice folded on a lousy pair; the cards weren’t worth the gamble. But perhaps sometimes mortals were. To reach so far from oneself in the hope of finding a kindred, to reach across this soulless, empty world—that was at once beautiful in its physicality, its heady richness of life and intensity, and yet so fundamentally other from your own existence—there was something in that which was both tragic and hopeful, wonderful and horrifying.

He dredged through Kristoff’s memories, a task that was becoming harder as the body fell further and further away from what the man had been, and as usual struggled to put them in the correct order. Linear time was still giving Justice as many problems as cheating at cards, but love was a recurrent theme in the recollections. Love of parents, friends, the woman—Aura, wife—of other women, of duty, comrades, feather beds and finely braised pheasant… types of love that were as vibrant and different as the flecks of gold shifting on an ocean at sunset. Love that inspired softness, anger, love that grew fear and guilt… a burning village, and a woman cradling the body of a boy. A dead elf—a friend, a Warden for whom Kristoff had been responsible—meant love of duty, love of the Order, and yet love of life… a… gratitude for a death that was not his? Shame, guilt, anger… these were the darker tastes to the memories that Justice shied from, a little afraid of their power. Yet all that power came from love, of some kind.

Anders was right, then. Or so it seemed. Love drove mortals more than anything, whether it was love of their world and their lives, or a love that stretched across the gulf of being.

He looked up as the mage laid down a straight of serpents, cackling delightedly. Oghren groaned and threw down his two pair, muttering something never playing sober again, and Nathaniel calmly caught Anders’ wrist before he reached for the pot.

“Ah-ah. Not so fast.”

“Oh, you didn’t. You bastard….”

Nate laid down a four of a kind, including that six of serpents—when and how had he palmed it?—and smiled as Anders moaned and put his head in his hands.

“Oh, come on…. I have a cat to feed! Does that mean nothing to you?”

“The cat that’s been seen eating rats twice the size of his head? No, not much.”

Justice watched, thoughtful as the game broke up and Nathaniel refused to go for another double-or-nothing round, smugly carrying away his winnings. Oghren took his mug to go sit by the fire, and Anders gave up subterfuge and just dumped the rest of his flask into his own cup.

“You are right,” Justice said, which earned him a quizzical look. “It isn’t complicated. Love.”

Anders snorted and sloshed the mug around a bit to mix things in. “Not if you’ve got the coin, no.”

Justice ignored the additional confusion, eager to pursue the conclusion while it was fresh.

“It is a state of being. It is why you hide. Because you have known oppression, pain, and your love of self outweighs your love of others. Yet you do care. So much. And that is why it hurts you. Why you hide. You want to help… because you care. Because you love.”

He tilted his—Kristoff’s—head, watching the guilty shock suffuse Anders’ face, and the way his long fingers worried at the rim of the wooden mug. He watched, looking with eyes that were both mortal and spirit, and saw deeper than perhaps was welcomed.

Anders flushed. “I— That is not even a bit close to anything I said. Prob’ly Kristoff’s ears have dropped off or something.”

“No. But I think it is what you meant.”

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 21

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 21 - Possess

There were no classes the next day. Lin Yan wanted to sleep in. Who knew that he'd get woken up by Yin Zhou's early morning phone call? He was still hazy from sleep. He didn’t make out a lot of what Yin Zhou was saying. From what he did hear, it seemed like one of his relatives say a ghost. . . Lin Yan put down the receiver and sat on the bed in a daze. He raised his head and glanced at the wall clock on the wall. It was currently 7:05. He had forgotten to close his curtains last night and bright sunlight streamed into the room.

Lin Yan turned over and lay on the blankets, wanting to go back to sleep. The morning wind blew in from the window, and the cool air made him feel refreshed from his shoulders to his legs. Lin Yan hugged the pillow when a thought appeared. Something was wrong.

His side was bare?

He jumped up like a flailing carp and looked down at his bare torso. Lin Yan was so frightened that he pulled the blanket around his waist, looking like a guilty thief.

Fortunately, Xiao Yu wasn't there.

Lin Yan slumped back on the bed, stretching out his arms and legs and reminiscing about what had happened last night. It seemed that he actually had a bath with the ghost, and even had a good time with him. But then, Xiao Yu put on his clothes, leaving him only wearing his drenched boxers. When the flashback reached the part where the door slammed, Lin Yan jerked. He groaned internally; he actually messed around with a ghost.

The relationship between the two had just started to improve at the antiquities lecture, and then a comment about sending him away caused him to completely flip out. Lin Yan put his chin on the pillow and sulkily pondered. He wasn't sure what the ghost had been upset about. It was hard to determine who took advantage of who last night, but a ghost that claimed he'll take his life doesn't give him much room to resist. It was unbearable. If it weren't for the fact that he had finished things himself, he would have gone crazy.

Besides, jerking off is a real personal topic. . . Lin Yan felt himself blush. He buried his head into the pillow and wanted to stay there for the rest of the day.

Anyways, what about the ghost?

Lin Yan changed his clothes, ruffled his messy hair and walked out of the bedroom. When he turned to the living room, he was midway through the yawn. When Lin Yan saw the scene in front of him through the sleepy haze in his eyes, his body was numb in shock and he almost screamed.

Xiao Yu was sitting on the sofa and stared at him coldly. The light gray soft satin shirt reflected the delicate pearly light of the early morning sun. He looked like a beautiful young man, but right now, he made the atmosphere gloomy and chilly.

Five words quickly popped up in his head: enemies on a narrow road*.

*(T/N: it's four characters in Chinese [冤家路窄], and it basically means two enemies that inevitably meet and have a staredown, i.e. a cowboy faceoff at high noon, that kind of thing)

Lin Yan stood awkwardly tugged on the hem of his shirt. The situation was completely beyond his imagination. The ghost found in the tomb was a ruthless murderer, but this ghost was different from the ones on TV or in horror movies. He wasn't possessing him, couldn't remember how he died, or even remember who he was. There was nothing else for him to do but cling to him every day. It sounded pathetic, but he could at least always hold his form and didn't shy away from the sun. Lin Yan glanced at the sofa discreetly, thinking that the next time he saw the little Daoist priest, he would have so many questions to ask him.

The question now was what should he do? The person on the sofa was clearly upset. Even though he was a few metres away, Lin Yan could still feel the surrounding air crackling and exploding with sparks.

After a moment of hesitation, he decided to take the initiative to attack and kill the enemy before the enemy could attack, nipping all the hidden attacks in the bud. Lin Yan channelled his qi, opened his meridians, centred his energy, and let out a dry smile: "Good morning Young Master Xiao!"

You could hear a pin drop.

"Are you. . . hungry? I'm going to make breakfast?" Lin Yan wanted to ask him for forgiveness. Even though he thought that ghosts probably didn't need to eat, eating was probably similar enough to eating people. Eating people. . . Lin Yan's face started to burn again. He anxiously wrung his hands. He moved to the sofa, and gently placed a hand on the ghost's knee.

Xiao Yu glanced at him, then turned to stare out the window in silence.

"I'm not angry anymore. I let you kiss me, and we can do it again in a few days. I don't know what's wrong." Lin Yan coaxed him kindly.

The ghost still sat silently.

"I don't want you to leave anymore. You choked me so hard yesterday, so let's call it even." Lin Yan felt like he was making a fool of himself. He was getting frustrated so he leaned forward cheekily: "Here, I'll let you kiss me again as compensation."

"Alright, then I'll kiss you whenever I want to instead."

Not waiting for Lin Yan to lean over, Xiao Yu flung his sleeves, moved to the side and sat upright looking at him.

Xiao Yu's reaction really let him know what it meant to show warm feelings but meet with cold rebuke. The irritability of being woken up early in the morning mixed with his current anger, and he couldn't keep it together. Why, despite getting closer to death every day, did he still have to go out of his way to make this ghost happy?

Lin Yan clenched his fist and screamed at Xiao Yu: "What do you want? Do you want me to just lie still while you fuck me? I'm a living fucking person and you never ask when you want to do anything. I dug up your grave, not fucked your corpse. What's the point in stalking me like this? Huh?" As he got angrier and angrier, he picked up a glass cup on the coffee table and smashed it, the shards scattering all over the floor.

"Fine, have it your way. You want me to leave? If you aren't going to kill me then I still have things to do. When the time comes, you go on your way and I'll go on mine. We won't owe each other anything!"

In the living room early in the morning, two people were sitting on the sofa, one with a blank face and the other with a face full of rage right beside him. Neither wanted to look at the other longer than they needed to. Sunlight bounced off the broken pieces of glass on the ground. The orchids on the windowsill were in full bloom, and a few slender branches were covered with quivering white butterflies.

A picture-perfect scene of a husband and wife quarrelling.

The people involved wouldn't agree with this. Lin Yan tugged on the waistband of his pants and walked to the kitchen distractedly. He took four eggs and cracked them into a frying pan. He didn’t know why he still prepared enough for two people. The oil crackled and popped on the pan. When it was almost cooked, he grabbed the sugar from the spice box and sprinkled it in. Lin Yan bowed his head again. He just wanted to throw the pan away. He had accidentally put the wrong seasoning, and now the poached eggs were sprinkled with a thick layer of MSG.

He couldn't keep living like this.

Suddenly the phone in his pocket beeped. A text message from Yin Zhou popped up with the address of XX hospital and a message: “Visiting starts at 9:30. Get here quickly.” Lin Yan stared at the phone in a daze, and suddenly remembered the jumbled call he received this morning. It seemed that Yin Zhou's relatives had encountered something evil and he wanted him to grab the little Daoist priest and rush over to see what was going on.

Holding his phone, Lin Yan didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. He hadn't even dealt with the evil things happening around him. Now he had to take on someone else's problem, as if ghosts from all over the world had made an appointment to meet him, rushed over all at once and greeted him with an evil grin. Lin Yan turned off the stove, forwarded the text message to the little Daoist priest, and tried to fix his expression as he walked to the living room. He hadn't been angry for so many years and he didn't know what to do with himself. He deliberately forced himself to keep a straight face and stared at the wall behind Xiao Yu's shoulders: "I'm going out. If you really don't want to see me, stay here. I'll be back tonight at the latest."

After he finished talking, he went to stand at the door to change his shoes. He turned his head and was face-to-face with Xiao Yu again. He was close enough that he could see his reflection in the other's eyes. Lin Yan was so startled that he almost fell into the shoe rack.

"You want to play Cold War but you're still going to follow me, this guy. . ." Lin Yan muttered, grabbing the car key from the hook and opened the door.

At 9:30 a.m., Lin Yan, who had just finished charging through the morning traffic, appeared in front of a private hospital on the North Third Ring Road. The hospital’s grandeur was a sight to behold. The high-rise buildings were covered with walls of light-blue glass, and the shrubs in the flower beds were meticulously pruned. Although the road near the main entrance of the hospital was congested with traffic, it got better once he passed through the gate. Lin Yan followed the instructions on the floor plan to find the inpatient department. He bought a ridiculously expensive basket of apples from the supermarket downstairs, walked through the front door, took out his mobile phone at the elevator entrance and double-checked the address Yin Zhou sent him.

This is it. Lin Yan took a breath and stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 17th floor.

In the elevator, Lin Yan hoped that the ghost would do something to disperse the current embarrassing atmosphere, but Xiao Yu just stayed an arm's length away from him and put on an air of indifference.

When the nurse led Lin Yan into the ward, Yin Zhou and A-Yan had already arrived and were sitting on some stools in the middle of a conversation. The private room was clean and tidy. A wide hospital bed sat against the wall, covered with light blue bedding. There were no patients. A middle-aged woman with delicate makeup but a sad expression sat on the bedside peeling oranges. Seeing Lin Yan enter the room, she barely forced out a wry smile and greeted him: "Xiaolin is here, sit down."

"Hello, Auntie." Lin Yan pulled up a chair and sat down. This woman was Yin Zhou's aunt. She was often seen around Yin Zhou's house during New Years. He remembered her as being a very popular person. She liked to laugh at Lin Yan's jokes, and always said that when her daughter was older, they could get married. She kept at it until she met Weiwei, then she changed her goal and asked him almost every day if he was married yet.

"Xiao Yang is over there." The woman pointed to the window. A girl wearing a hospital gown stood in front of the window glass with her back to Lin Yan, not reacting at all.

Lin Yan nodded at Yin Zhou. "What's going on?"

Yin Zhou pulled his stool over and sat down by Lin Yan. He pointed to the girl by the window: "It's my cousin. The one that set off firecrackers with us on New Years, remember? For the past month, she's been in the hospital with a kidney infection."

"Of course I remember my little wife." Lin Yan laughed and called to the girl at the window, "What's Xiao Yang looking at? Come over here, look who's here."

The girl didn't seem to hear it at all. She remained at the window and continued staring out.

Lin Yan was perplexed. He remembers this girl as someone lively and mischievous, talking like a mini adult. Even when she was thirteen or fourteen, it always seemed like she, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were all the same age. During the Chinese New Year, Yin Zhou had been bored playing games in his bedroom and didn't want to greet his relatives so Lin Yan became the host despite being a guest. He was the one who watched TV and gossiped with this little girl; from which boy was handsome to who secretly wrote a note to whom. The little girl was smart and kept her wits about her. One time, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou secretly took her to a lake to go ice skating. As a result, her foot slipped through the ice and she got completely soaked. Unexpectedly, she never said a word of what happened and she kept it secret when they all went home.

No one in the room spoke, and the sudden silence made Lin Yan a little at a loss. A moment later, the woman sitting on the bed suddenly burst into tears: "I don't know what's wrong. She was barely sick and then this happened." She pointed at the girl by the window and cried loudly: "It's been four days. She hasn't eaten or slept. She just stands by the window and stares outside. The doctors have checked for everything that could possibly be checked. They say it's hysteria and there's nothing they can do. I can't take it anymore."

"What? Auntie, calm down. Speak slowly." Lin Yan was confused.

"See for yourself. It's hard to explain." Yin Zhou pointed to the girl standing completely straight at the window.

Lin Yan put the fruit basket on the bedside table hesitantly. He walked to the window and stood behind the girl for a while. When she didn't move, he tapped her shoulder: "Xiao Yang, have you missed me?"

The girl turned her head. Not like how ordinary people turn their heads where they move their necks first, but instead turned her head 180 degrees until she and Lin Yan were face-to-face. As soon as he saw the girl’s face, Lin Yan yelled and stumbled back. He immediately noticed something wrong. She didn't have any pupils. Her eyes were rolled back into her head. Through her tangled hair, only the whites or her eyes were staring at Lin Yan. She faintly hissed: "Are you here yet?"

"Why haven't you come yet?"

[lightshadowverisimilitude]

The Uncle Trap

@sassassassins is phenomenal and has sent me so many pretty screenshots for my episode summary project!!

As a thank you: Post-cannon, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng forced to cooperate to rescue their disaster!nephew, with guest appearances from Lan Wangji, Sizhui, and a very startled troll. 

~*~

The inn was neither the worst nor the best he’d stayed in during his travels. The wine was better than that sour swill from the last place, but, of course, it had nothing on Emperor’s Smile. The food was edible, the floor in his room was clean, and the table was not sticky. It was as much as he could ask for, and better than he had most days. 

He was eating his way through a plate of greasy spiced chicken when a commotion at the door caught his attention. He blinked at the figure silhouetted against the last of the light. For one chest-compressing moment, he thought it was Lan Wangji, but then the figure moved, too animated, too quickly for Lan Wangji. 

“Lan Sizhui?”  

“Wei-qianbei!” He darted in between tables, gracefully avoiding hitting anyone, even when other patrons turned around quickly to see what the fuss was about. 

Wei Wuxian watched, bemused, as Sizhui came to a somewhat messy halt in front of him and offered a quick salute. 

“It’s Jin Ling,” he said in a rush that caught Wei Wuxian’s heart somewhere between his breastbone and his voicebox. “We were on a night hunt - it was supposed to just be a simple haunting!”

Keeping the rising panic off his face and out of his voice, Wei Wuxian pressed, “What happened?” 

“It was so fast - something took him. I heard him screaming, and then he was gone.” Sizhui looked up at him hopefully, as though Wei Wuxian might snap his fingers and pull Jin Ling out of thin air. He filed that thought away - maybe he could do that, with the right set of spells - and stood quickly. He scattered a handful of coins on the table, probably too much, but he didn’t want to take the time to count them out.

As they ran out of the inn and down the street, Sizhui gave him a rundown of their hunt, the hungry ghost they’d dispatched, and the blur of motion that had snatched Jin Ling, screaming, from the back of their party. Wei Wuxian cursed again at his inability to fly, and made no protest whatsoever to jumping up alongside Sizhui for the trip. It would be quick by air, but convincing Little Apple to get him there any sooner than next week would have been a nightmare. 

“Go to Cloud Recesses,” Wei Wuxian ordered, hopping down when they were a few feet from the ground in the last place Jin Ling had been seen. If there was some kind of junior-cultivator eating monster up there, the last thing he needed was having to keep an eye on Sizhui while he was hunting for his disaster of a nephew. 

“Wei-qianbei!”

“Go tell His Excellency that the Jin sect leader is missing!” Wei Wuxian ordered. “I’ll probably already have him before you can duck around Old Man Lan to get to Lan Zhan, so just go.”

Face twisted with worry for his friend, Sizhui finally nodded and took back to the air. Wei Wuxian was vaguely surprised that he went so quickly, but, then, he must have been terrified for Jin Ling, and, of course, he would want Lan Wangji. Perhaps the greater surprise should have been that Sizhui came for him first, though that might have been only a matter of proximity.

It was full dark by then, but Wei Wuxian lit a fire talisman and did his best to search the area for any clues. Unfortunately, it was a crossroads, and well travelled, so he couldn’t pick out any footprints. He ventured a little ways off the road in the direction Sizhui had indicated, but he was worried that he might destroy some vital clue in the dark, and was forced to stop.

Sitting cross-legged against a tree, he pulled Chenqing out and cautiously played a few notes. His stomach twisted in knots as he did. What would he do if Jin Ling’s corpse came shambling out of the trees? In any event, he didn’t have to find out. He was playing softly so he didn’t accidentally summon a whole army, and the only dead he would summon would be those very close by. One lone spirit did manifest, a man dressed in ragged homespun with a gaping mouth. He wasn’t even strong enough to speak, so Wei Wuxian couldn’t ask him if he’d witnessed anything at the crossroads. After a few minutes of listening to him moan piteously, Wei Wuxian sighed and put him to rest. He continued to play, but no other spirits came to investigate.

As soon as the sky was light enough to make out the details of his own shoes, he was back on his feet and combing through the underbrush. A short distance away from the road, he found a tangle of golden threads caught on a tree branch, and some fifteen feet further on, a snapped branch even higher up. Whatever had taken Jin Ling, hadn’t carried him on the ground. It narrowed down the list a lot, but not enough to know what he was walking into. 

“Hey, you!” 

Wei Wuxian froze at the familiar voice and turned only reluctantly to see Jiang Cheng wading through the underbrush with a look on his face to make thunderclouds cry. He stopped when he recognized Wei Wuxian. Around his wrist, Zidian spit and crackled purple lightning. 

“What the hell are you doing here? If you-”

Wei Wuxian interrupted him before he could finish that accusation and force Wei Wuxian to punch him in the face. He knew it would take a long time before they would have any real trust between them again, if ever, but if Jiang Cheng could suspect him of hurting his own nephew, his shijie’s son, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how they could come back from that. 

“Sizhui brought me last night,” he said, turning away so he didn’t have to watch Jiang Cheng’s response.

Jiang Cheng grunted. He was silent for a moment, and then offered, “Ouyang Zizhen made it to Lotus Pier in the middle of the night.” He glared at Wei Wuxian, but jerked his chin up to indicate the fluffy bundle of gold threads in Wei Wuxian’s hand. “What did you find?” 

Handing it over, Wei Wuxian returned to the trail of broken branches. Muttering under his breath something about how he would cut his nephew’s legs clean off this time, Jiang Cheng followed after him. Wei Wuxian glanced back at him as they drifted apart to look for further clues. Jiang Cheng looked pale and drawn, his mouth tight with anxiety and brows pulled together like they’d been sewn that way. He probably hadn’t slept any more than Wei Wuxian had the previous night. 

“Anything?” Wei Wuxian called back when his scant trail of broken branches dried up and there were no more convenient wisps of fabric to go on. Couldn’t the boy at least have managed to drop some beads or something? He owed Jin Ling a lesson on how to be inconvenient to captors and make a good trail for his uncles to follow if he ever got snatched again. They had to get him back first. 

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng said after a tense moment. “Ouyang Zizhen said he was screaming murder like he was being eaten alive.” The last came out in a small, worried voice. 

“No blood,” Wei Wuxian said, though the lack of it was not really a comfort. It had been raining the day before, hadn’t it? When had it stopped? He thought it had still been drizzling a little when he’d gone into the inn late in the afternoon, and Jin Ling would have already been gone for hours by that time. He was being dragged away screaming murder while Wei Wuxian was eating greasy food and congratulating himself on having enough money for an inn with clean floors and wine that wouldn’t burn through his stomach. 

Sizhui wouldn’t have known exactly where he was, though Wei Wuxian did his best to make sure Sizhui had a general idea of his whereabouts in case he needed something. It had been maybe five hours of hard flying straight from the inn to the crossroads, so if it had taken a few hours on top of that for Sizhui to find him, and presumably some time trying to find Jin Ling himself, then whoever - whatever - had Jin Ling could be half-way to the moon. 

They doubled back to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, and then turned without discussion for the road. There was a village a short way up the hill. With an angry huff, Jiang Cheng unsheathed Sandu and stopped in the road, glaring at Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian just stared back incredulously. 

“Well?” Jiang Cheng demanded after a minute had passed in awkward silence.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t possibly mean for them to fight right there! Even if Wei Wuxian had taken Jin Ling, what good would it do for Jiang Cheng to kill him in the road with no idea of where he was being held? Wei Wuxian wanted to call him an idiot for it, but he also didn’t want to fight about it at all, he wanted to find Jin Ling. Wei Wuxian put a hand on Chenqing, but Jiang Cheng just rolled his eyes and held out his left hand impatiently. The gesture startled the breath out of Wei Wuxian’s lungs when he realized what it meant.

"It's too slow to walk," Jiang Cheng said ungraciously, but his eyes went left and right and his sword hand moved unconsciously over his stomach. 

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his neck. Even though Sizhui was so much his junior (depending on how one counted years, they might have been about the same age) and his adopted son, it hadn't felt awkward to be carried by him. Jiang Cheng though…

Sighing, Wei Wuxian took Jiang Cheng's hand, and they jumped up on Sandu together. Jiang Cheng pulled Wei Wuxian against his side to make him as manageable a package as possible, but his hand was fisted in Wei Wuxian’s robes like his grip was the only thing holding them both up. Wei Wuxian almost laughed, remembering how impressed he'd been when Lan Wangji had carried him and Su She together on Bichen. Back then, Lan Wangji had carried him by the scruff like he was a naughty kitten. Jiang Cheng glared ahead as if daring Wei Wuxian to say a single word to him. 

Because Wei Wuxian never had been able to let a challenge go unanswered, he made a loud noise and asked, “Can’t you go faster?”

They were too close together for Jiang Cheng to give Wei Wuxian the full benefit of his glare, but he still turned his head with his teeth clenched tightly together. If they hadn’t been going after Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian thought it was very likely Jiang Cheng would have thrown him off right then. Without even meaning to, he clutched Jiang Cheng tighter, just in case. The last time he’d been thrown from a sword in flight, the Burial Mounds had reached up and grabbed him out of the air, and things had gone sideways afterwards. 

“Hey, hey, I’m kidding!” Wei Wuxian said, but Jiang Cheng still dropped him the last six feet when they came to the village. Wei Wuxian thought it was only polite to stumble and run headlong into a fence post, since Jiang Cheng had gone through the effort and all. 

Looking pleased with himself, Jiang Cheng descended with something like grace. People were already starting to gather, since they had been seen while they were still in the air. It was a small village of only maybe two dozen houses clustered around a pair of roads with a single crossroads. Being so far up a mountain not known for anything in particular, they probably didn’t get a lot of visitors. 

“A cultivator has gone missing,” Jiang Cheng said with no preamble at all. He glared around at the gathered villagers, already cataloguing them in his head like they could possibly be suspects. “What has been happening on this mountain lately?” 

No one answered him immediately. They shot him a lot of nervous or annoyed glances. It was still early enough in the day that not everyone had left for the fields, and there were a dozen or so men and younger people sprinkled in among the old folks and children. They had started to mutter amongst themselves - who did this guy think he was, just making demands like that? Just because he was a cultivator and wore fancy clothes, he thought he could order them around? 

“Ah!” Wei Wuxian said, dusting himself off and strolling over to lean on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. He patted at Jiang Cheng’s chest, which got him a nasty glare, and continued, “Sandu Sengshou didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. He’s a bear early in the mornings! See, the cultivator is our nephew, and we’re worried, you know?” Jiang Cheng pinched him hard, but Wei Wuxian didn’t budge. 

Sympathy rippled around the gathered cloud. An old granny even reached out to pat Wei Wuxian’s arm. 

“Lots of folks going missing on this mountain,” she said. She only had maybe three teeth left, but her smile was kind. “Just last night, the woodcutter’s boy gone.” 

Jiang Cheng stopped subtly trying to pinch the life out of Wei Wuxian’s side and they exchanged worried looks. Most creatures didn’t take a new victim until they didn’t need the old one any more. They had to hope there was more than one monster, or maybe Jin Ling had managed to escape and that was why it had gone after another snack in the night. 

They questioned the villagers more in depth, Wei Wuxian letting Jiang Cheng go so he could help the old granny to her chair in the shade. There were ten small villages on the mountain, and this one was neither the biggest nor the smallest. No one could even agree on a name for it, but there were a dozen stories of children, mothers, fathers, old men, and young women going missing. A lot of it had to be an exaggeration, or there would be no people for a hundred miles around with how many folks they claimed had gone missing. 

Always at night, they said, some giant shadow would swoop down and then the person would be gone, screaming high up in the air. The sound of their screams always went higher up the mountain, and thunder followed them. According to the villagers, no one had ever been recovered, and theories ran the gamut from an angry mountain god to wild, flying dogs. Wei Wuxian really wouldn't be able to handle it if he found a wild flying dog. It was bad enough that they ran so fast on the ground, giving them wings just wouldn’t be fair. 

Wei Wuxian frowned as he listened to another such story, this time a whole village just vanishing overnight. Jin Ling had been taken in the morning, surely, and from a group of cultivators. The juniors were young, but they were a promising bunch, and a few of them were quite strong, even considering their youth. Sizhui, Jin Ling, and Ouyang Zizhen were already on their way to fame. 

“Thank you, granny,” Wei Wuxian said. He helped her peel an orange and handed her a section to suck on before turning the task back to the woman’s youngest granddaughter and meeting Jiang Cheng in the middle of the road again. 

“Could have been a hungry ghost,” Jiang Cheng said as they turned to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“Sizhui said they found and suppressed one. Could there be more?” 

Jiang Cheng hesitated. “It’s a small area for two hungry ghosts that strong.” 

“Hmm,” Wei Wuxian agreed. He took Chenqing out and spun her idly between his fingers while he thought. It was unlikely that they were making up all the stories wholesale. All legends started from some kernel of truth, and there were too many people reporting missing loved ones, and not just that they knew someone who heard once that so-and-so’s husband’s great uncle saw something. 

“What has that fool boy gotten into?” Jiang Cheng gritted out. He unsheathed Sandu again, and Wei Wuxian didn’t even hesitate to jump up alongside him. 

~*~

They did find another hungry ghost, just not a very hungry one. It looked like it had been a young girl in life, but it was barely even corporeal and its voice sounded like it was very far away. She couldn’t have been dead very long, and Wei Wuxian doubted she’d had any victims yet. If they let her go about her business, in maybe a decade or so, someone would come to the mountain to hunt her. 

Where was Lan Wangji with his guqin when they needed to talk to a muttering spirit, anyways? Wei Wuxian put a hand out to stop Jiang Cheng from suppressing her. He put Chenqing to his lips and ignored the way Jiang Cheng’s own lips narrowed down into a disapproving line that reminded Wei Wuxian a lot of Madam Yu. 

Still, Jiang Cheng didn’t try to stop him, just huffed out a breath and spun away. Wei Wuxian played, but softly, just for her. She hadn’t even really noticed them before, but after the first couple notes, she turned to face them. Her head dropped down toward her shoulder and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Very faintly, Wei Wuxian heard a click-click-click noise, the memory of teeth. 

He didn’t want to stir up her resentful energy anymore than it already was, so he just plucked at the ragged edges of her form with the music, nudged her along, suggested to whatever passed for a mind in a hungry ghost to take them to someone hungry like her. There was still something on the mountain grabbing people, and most creatures didn’t grab people except to eat them in one way or another. 

She made an unhappy gurgling noise and fought against him, but finally relented. They followed after her. She was most visible in shadow, but the sun was bright, and they often lost her when she moved out from under the trees. The only way Wei Wuxian still knew to follow her was the tickling pull on the back of his neck. 

Without making her into a real monster, they had to follow at her pace, and she hadn’t been dead long enough to realize that she didn’t have to walk like a human anymore. She was also a weak spirit, and it was difficult to hold onto her attention span enough to keep her going in the right direction. 

Still, his playing called other spirits, and Jiang Cheng was kept busy fighting them off. 

“Even like this, you have to be a nuisance,” Jiang Cheng complained, flicking the lingering resentful energy off his blade. It spattered black on the ground and started smoking in the sunlight. 

Wei Wuxian couldn’t stop playing or he’d lose the hungry ghost, so he manfully ignored the comment and continued up the path. She led them up some steep switchbacks, and then onto a plateau densely covered in pines. Once there, however, she stopped and gave Wei Wuxian a baleful look, refusing to go any further. 

Not breaking the song, Wei Wuxian stepped sideways and nudged Jiang Cheng with one elbow. He nodded toward her, and Jiang Cheng stepped forward with a grunt to suppress her. Wei Wuxian was probably imagining her accustory shout, but it wasn’t his fault, really. He wanted to tell her that being a hungry ghost wasn’t any fun, and to hurry up and reincarnate into a better life. 

“What good are you?” Jiang Cheng asked. “We wasted a lot of daylight and cleared out a few decades of haunts, and Jin Ling is still missing!”

“There’s something up here she was afraid of,” Wei Wuxian said, massaging his jaw. They had walked for hours, and it was harder to play soft and sweet and keep it so focused than it was to call up an army. He probably could have woken up every corpse and ghost on the whole mountain and not been as sore. 

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Hungry ghosts don’t fear anything.” 

“Everything fears something,” Wei Wuxian told him softly, and then pointed toward the trees. The wind was picking up hard, and Wei Wuxian’s hair was whipping around his face like a flail, lashing at his cheeks. 

They moved into the cover of the trees, but they had only gone maybe fifteen minutes before they heard a whistle. Wei Wuxian recognized the tune and sighed aloud. At his side, Jiang Cheng went tight with blossoming irritation, and sped up his steps. 

Jin Ling was sitting with his back to them, tossing seeds up into the air and attempting to catch them in his mouth. He missed three, and stopped to whistle another few notes of one of Wei Wuxian’s own songs. If he’d put any power into at all, he’d probably have a few hungry spirits of his own crawling up to him. 

“You little shit!” Jiang Cheng snapped. 

The seeds went flying into the air and Jin Ling jumped about three miles straight up. He held his sword in front of him, still sheathed, as if it would be any impediment to Jiang Cheng’s wrath at all. Wei Wuxian tried very hard to school his expression into something stern and disapproving, but the quick succession of expressions marching across Jin Ling’s face - shock, fear, stubbornness, back to fear - was just too much, and he had to hide his face in his hand. Relief poured through him in waves that almost came out as laughter, but then Jiang Cheng would probably turn on him, and he didn’t want to die. 

“I should break both of your legs!” Jiang Cheng shouted, grabbing Jin Ling by one arm and giving him a good shake. “Do you know you’re a sect leader? I had two dozen disciples following after me! They’re crawling all over this mountain by now looking for you, and probably as many Jin disciples too!”

“Uncle! I can explain!” Jin Ling tried, but didn’t get any further than that before Jiang Cheng was shaking him again. 

“I'll teach you to explain!” Jiang Cheng roared, somewhat nonsensically, but the effect was carried if Jin Ling’s wide eyes were anything to go by. 

Unable to hold back any longer, Wei Wuxian burst into laughter. Both of them turned on him at once with identical expressions of outrage. It made Wei Wuxian laugh even harder. Zidian snarled as it lashed out at the ground, and Wei Wuxian jumped, holding both hands up in surrender. 

“Alright, alright!” he called, dancing out of range of the whip while Jin Ling shoved at his uncle’s arm. 

“Don’t attack him, he didn’t do anything!” Jin Ling said.

“How are you taking his side?” Jiang Cheng demanded, going splotchy with anger. 

“I’m not! You’re being a bully!” Jin Ling returned. 

“Okay, okay, no one is taking my side!” Wei Wuxian said, interrupting them before they started fighting for real. “Jin Ling, where are you keeping the woodcutter’s boy?” 

Mouth already opened to shout at Wei Wuxian, Jin Ling stopped. His expression twisted in confusion. “What woodcutter’s boy?” 

“You must have him somewhere, so people would think there was still a monster up here kidnapping people,” Jiang Cheng prompted. “Where is he? If you took him from his village, I will string you up by your ankles and leave you there until your head pops up!”

“I didn’t!” Jin Ling said. 

Wei Wuxian drew in a breath to speak, but a sudden explosion of noise sounded deeper in the trees. At once, they pulled together. Suihua and Sandu came out with twin chimes, and Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng stepped apart to put Wei Wuxian between them. Eyeing the trees distrustfully, Wei Wuxian put Chenqing back to his lips and waited. 

Another great crash sounded - certainly the thunder the villagers had reported hearing - and somewhere the splintering crack of a tree coming down. With a roar, a troll burst into their clearing. It was twelve feet tall at least, face more closely resembling the rocky mountainside where it made its home, teeth like broken stones in its mouth. It bellowed at them so loudly that Wei Wuxian could feel the wind of its rancid breath. 

Before Wei Wuxian could get a single note out, the troll abruptly stopped. It made a peculiar choking noise. 

“Did it swallow a bug?” Jin Ling asked incredulously. 

“More like a bird,” Jiang Cheng answered.

The troll groaned, and then toppled over dead. 

For several long seconds, they all three just stared at it in dumb silence. Jiang Cheng turned to give Wei Wuxian a suspicious look, but Wei Wuxian just shrugged at him. He hadn’t done anything, he’d barely even got a breath in. 

“Uncle…” Jin Ling prompted with the same suspiciously narrowed eyes. 

“I didn’t!” Wei Wuxian insisted. 

“It didn’t just die on its own!” Jiang Cheng snapped, rounding on him. 

Wei Wuxian thought about letting them think he had somehow killed a mountain troll with the power of his thoughts alone, but he didn’t trust Jiang Cheng not to take that seriously and start some new crusade against him. He was only just starting to get to the point where he could give out his name in a new town and not get mobbed by angry townsfolk. 

The decision was taken from him shortly in any event. The distinctive song of a sword being dropped into its sheath had them all turning back to the trees. Lan Wangji stepped out from the shadows like a ghost himself, dressed splendidly in blue and silver, with only the smallest touches of white at the collar and the detailing on the breast. 

“Excellency!” Jin Ling stammered. 

“Excellency,” Jiang Cheng said flatly, glaring at Wei Wuxian. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian chirped and enjoyed very much the look of utter disgust on Jiang Cheng’s face. 

“Mmn,” was all Lan Wangji had to offer. 

“That damn Sizhui!” Jin Ling exploded before he could catch himself. “He was supposed to keep Hanguan-jun away, not invite him over!” 

Jiang Cheng cuffed him sharply, and he ducked, already complaining at the treatment, and didn’t Jiang Cheng think that was too much, striking another sect leader when their sects were in good standing? 

“The day I can’t cuff my own stupid nephew is the day I will take YungmengJiang to war against you!” Jiang Cheng said. He lifted his hand again, but he didn’t take another swing and Jin Ling, who danced out of his reach anyways. 

“The Jin sect would grind you into dust!” Jin Ling declared boldly. 

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. Wei Wuxian hurried to put a hand on his arm. “Don’t kill him. He’s my favorite nephew.” 

“I’m your only nephew,” Jin Ling reminded him somewhat peevishly. 

“Maybe if you two are going to go around declaring war, you should do it out of His Excellency’s hearing?” Wei Wuxian asked with a laugh. 

Jin Ling looked smug at the suggestion rather than rightly terrified. “That wouldn’t be enjoyable at all!” 

Of course, once Lan Wangji had stepped into conversational distance, he was quick to give his bows and put himself behind his uncles. Wei Wuxian laughed at the color spilling hectic-hot across Jin Ling’s face as Lan Wangji observed him with what must be the expression he gave all the sect leaders when they came to him with their problems and petty disputes. 

Slinging an arm over Jin Ling’s shoulders, Wei Wuxian tweaked the boy’s ear. “Oh, what fun we had together, right, Jiang Cheng?” He winked at Jiang Cheng, who gave Lan Wangji a sideways look before apparently deciding not to respond. Wei Wuxian patted Jin Ling on the shoulder. “You ever do anything like this again, and I’ll hold you down so your Uncle Cheng can do a good job breaking your legs, got it?” 

“I only did it so you idiots would talk to each other,” Jin Ling muttered, but he ducked out from under Wei Wuxian’s arm and edged closer to Jiang Cheng. 

“What a story they’ll make of this!” Wei Wuxian laughed. “A troll so big and powerful it took two sect leaders and the head cultivator to take it down!”

“And you,” Lan Wangji added. 

“Ah, well, what did I do? Maybe I’ll be the one who writes the story about His Excellency sweeping in to save the defenseless Yiling Patriarch,” he suggested, peering at Lan Wangji sideways and laughing when he only nodded. 

Making loud groaning noises as if they might fall over dead themselves, Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng retreated from them at once. Jiang Cheng had Jin Ling by the arm, but Jin Ling wasn’t fighting at all. 

Jiang Cheng stopped a short ways into the trees and turned back to point at Wei Wuxian. “Come to dinner,” he said, but as if it were a threat instead of an invitation. Next to him, Jin Ling beamed.

Wei Wuxian stared at them both blankly. “What?” 

“Don’t sneak through my territory like a thief anymore! Next time you come to Lotus Pier, come to dinner like a normal person and tell me you’re there to my face. Stop disrespecting me!” 

As roughly as it had been delivered, Jiang Cheng’s cheeks were touched with pink as he stared Wei Wuxian down. Wei Wuxian had crept through Lotus Pier or the surrounding territory a few times since he’d taken to the road, following night hunts, and maybe, maybe, missing the taste of roasted lotus seeds and the floral scent of the lakes when the lotus were in bloom. 

“I will,” Wei Wuxian said. What he didn’t say was that he thought he would never be allowed to walk upright into Lotus Pier again as long as Jiang Cheng was alive, and the notion was at once terrifying and filled him with smothering longing. Wei Wuxian didn’t trust himself to say anything other than that. 

Glaring at him a moment longer just for good measure, Jiang Cheng turned away again. He could be heard lecturing Jin Ling halfway down the mountain, apparently intent on making him walk all the way back to Carp Tower. 

“Lan Zhan, you saved me from an evil mountain troll.” 

Lan Wangji hiked an eyebrow at him, but he was quick to reach out to catch him when Wei Wuxian fainted dramatically into his arms. 

“You have to carry your damsel away now,” he prompted.

He didn’t have any right at all to be surprised, but he still was, just a little tiny bit, when Lan Wangji nodded and swept him up like a bride. Wei Wuxian laughed and squirmed to be put down, but Lan Wangji had decided on carrying him, and Wei Wuxian lacked every necessary kind of the strength it would take to get away. 

Without even doing Wei Wuxian the courtesy of pretending to struggle with holding him, Lan Wangji carried him back through the trees, bypassing the massive body of the mountain troll. He did finally set Wei Wuxian down on his feet when they found Sizhui waiting somewhat sheepishly deeper in, a rawboned teenager sitting dazed at his side. Presumably, he was the woodcutter’s boy, and immensely lucky that Jin Ling had gotten his friends involved in such a ridiculous farce.

“A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian said, putting both fists on his hips. “Who taught you this kind of mischief, hm?” When Sizhui only flushed and looked down, Wei Wuxian sighed longsufferingly. “Well, I guess you’re my kid anyways, huh? You’re lucky there really was a troll.” 

Lan Wangji made a noise in the back of his throat and Sizhui flinched as though he'd been struck. He made a bow to Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and then, more deeply, to the traumatized boy. 

"Young Sir, please accept my deep apologies. If we had completed our investigation more thoroughly, you would not have been taken."

The boy looked up at him as though seeing through him. His mouth moved soundlessly. 

"You will return him to his family and remain there for a span of three months," Lan Wangji said. "You will be helpful."

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian protested. "Three months?"

Lan Wangji met his eyes evenly. Wei Wuxian wasn't used to that immovable expression being turned on him anymore. He suddenly felt a lot of sympathy for those sect leaders trying to wheedle favors out of him.

Sizhui broke the tension by bowing again. "It is too lenient," he said.

"There will be more," Lan Wangji assured him. He turned away without another word, and Wei Wuxian slung an arm around Sizhui's shoulders. 

"I'll work on him so you aren't copying lines until you're forty. Tell me you won't do it again."

Sizhui swallowed hard, but nodded. "I won't do it again."

Craning his neck to make sure Lan Wangji was out of immediate hearing range, he set his forehead against Sizhui's. "Thank you."

Sizhui sucked in a quick breath and pressed tight to Wuxian's side. 

"Ah! Enough, let's get this poor boy home." He gave Sizhui a shake. "And get you settled in your new life chopping wood!"

[yoonchrisgull]

Captain Park || pjm (1)

-> Synopsis: "A salty pirate needs his beautiful mermaid." 

 He appears and claims he wouldn't hurt her. She chooses not to trust him and escapes before he can get to her. A wee did she knew, the King of the Seven Seas and of all Pirates was hunting her down for a total different reason than she thought. 

-> Pairing: captain jimin x princess reader

-> Genre: romance . Fluff . Smut (in future chapters)

-> Words: 12k Word

-> Chapters: preview - 1 - 2

-> Warning: kidnapping, betrayal, almost death (the old pirate way), again betrayal cause no one is trustworthy, gentleman jimin, yellow teeth cause they pirates, smelly boys (they think being clean is uncool), jimin is such a softy ya’ll will fall in love, magic ship and shits, jimin is too sexy (you have been warned)

-> About: jimin is a dom daddy pirate, he literally controls the seven seas and its really really really attractive, reader is soft and lovable, jimin is really soft for the reader, he is literally whipped and could eat her red apple cheeks for breakfast if she lets him, stinky jimin cause he pirate, loyal sailors tae and hobi, taehyung is a manhoe at start but he’s our manhoe so its okay, he also loves slurping y/n’s lobsters, hobi is a huge shipper of his captain and reader, yoongi is the god of mischief, jin raised reader to be his best friend, baby txt on their way to wreck your life.

-> In: Narrative POV, Third person POV 

Check out my Masterlist

Wattpad Account: Here

The wind stays hitched between her air pipe, her lungs already giving up in an attempt to release a large breath as she held it like a prisoner in it's cage.

The organ placed down at the pit of her stomach turns at the scene before her.

Blood sprinkled everywhere like sparks of fireworks, instead this specific liquid was not even close enough to be mentioned next to the latter.

She stood stiff inside the darkness of the closet meant for placing formal wear and peeked out from the gap provided in between the two closed portals.

Memories hit her like a downer at the moment.

She had been here before.

She had seen the same sailors attacking. She had seen the same crimson blood coming from the individual’s bodies.

The only difference this time was that it wasn't her parents who were being brutally murdered nor was she still too small and naive to not know what was actually happening before her.

The sailors and guards of the former King of The Seven Seas, Pirateer Kang have once again decided to attack the developed village born in between the seas of Amnok and Tuman in Joseon Korea.

And yet again they have decided to barge into the large residence of the murdered King Yoon of Joseon to steal and kill whatever or whoever they wanted.

'Not again..'

The murder of her parents taking place right before her eyes has left a dark stain on her once innocent mind and it has led her here, alone and angered.

The anger she felt inside her has turned into a pure form of hatred and it has been mocking her for revenge.

The only source of hope that has kept her inside the boarders of  sanity was the group of fired and wasted sailors she had met a few years ago.

They had promised to help her. They would help her get her revenge from the ones who were involved in the murder of her parents.

"Ahoy! Come out come out where ever you are!"

She placed a hand over her mouth and backed away from the door when a hoarse voice hit her eardrums.

They are here to get her. She knows it.

She forced herself not to wince as two figures walked past the closet with heavy steps.

'Where are they?' She wonders on the late presence of her own seamen.

She let out a shaking sigh and leaned in to check if the sailors were gone. She blinked when she no longer felt their presence in the room.

'Are they gone?'

Silence decided to step in and wrench the walls of the chamber with an echoing mock.

Just as she thought that she was finally left alone, the portal of the closet harshly jerks open.

She let out a squeal and immediately backed away.

She looked up at the two figures now standing before her with wide eyes and her heart skips a beat in fear.

One of the sailor smirks, his teeth that were attacked with the lash of fungi scaring her to the tips of her toes.

"Found ya!" With that, both of the males jump at her.

She immediately crouched down and let her body slide out from the gap in between their bodies.

With quick moments, she turned around and placed both her palms on their backs and pushed both of their bodies inside the closet with all her might.

The males, caught off guard let out “oofs” of surprise and she hurriedly closed the portal of the closet behind them.

Not surprised, Pirateer Kang's sailors were always the slower, low witted ones.

She picks up the lower part of her large white night dress and makes a run towards the portal of her chamber.

She turned left the moment she got out and started to sprint towards the grand entrance downstairs.

And that was when she realized how the residence of her murdered father, King Yoon was a chaotic mess.

Maids running around trying to save themselves while the sailors took anything they could with them.

She immediately ducked down when a white, clay vase came flying towards her.

The vase hit one of the sailors behind her and disappointment hit her when she noticed the pieces falling to the ground.

The flower vase was gifted to her by her father.

"Y/n!" Her ears perks up at the familiar voice and she turns her head around once she hears it.

"Jin!" A sigh leaves her lips and she hurriedly walks up to a rather calm looking approaching male.

He takes a hold of her hand the moment they reach each other and starts to direct her upstairs. "You alright?"

"I am. Who are these men?" Y/n questions, a delicate hand holding her dress up as to prevent herself from stumbling and falling.

"They are here for you. Kang is close to the boarders." Jin informs, leading her up the stairs.

"Shouldn't we go outside? This may be our chance to make a move." Y/n inquires, not understanding his motives yet still following him.

She didn't have any chances.

Jin shakes his head. "No princess. You have to stay low right now. Use your father's secret passageway to skip out of the residence. We have to leave! Now!"

Y/n stared at him for a second with furrowed brows and dropped her shoulders as the male nodded at her.

"Make sure to take your father's secret way to go outside. We will meet at the back. I will go get the others." Jin says, before turning around and sprinting off downstairs.

Y/n released her gown and walked inside the working chamber that belonged to her father and locked the door behind her.

She sighs, letting her eyes trail over every part of the work place.

She remembered how she used to play around in here, not letting her father work for even a little bit.

She was going to be leaving soon, does that mean she will loose this place? Will she loose the place she was raised in?

"You have to continue to remain strong. We have to take revenge."

She lets Jin's words, one of her sailor friends, pass through her brain causing her to sigh.

She walks up to the gigantic book rack of her deceased father's library and pulls out a specific book.

The ground vibrates beneath her and she watched as one of the columns of the rack starts to move inside the wall, slowly revealing a passageway.

She puts the book back in its place and enters the cave like darkness.

Y/n grabs a hold of her necklace that dangles from around her neck and closes the rack behind her.

Something was telling her to not go further inside.

But she trust Jin. He won't betray her.

He had promised her that he would help her get revenge.

She walked further into the cave, the torches attached to the walls allowing her to see.

She tightened her hold around the necklace and took a turn to the left.

Her body suddenly froze when her eyes landed upon the scene in front of her.

Her heart skips a beat and she backs away in shock.

"Welcome, princess!"

King Kang stood before her, chin held high as he stare at her in amusement, a smirk holding his features.

He finally got her.

Y/n stirs, her mind drowsy and heavy from sleep and she slowly stretches out.

A groan leaves past her lips when her body resisted the urge, feeling as if it was bonded to this place by a force.

She slightly opens her eyes, hearing voices and shouts from everywhere around her.

She sat there for a minute, adjusting her eyes and focusing her mind back to reality.

"Yo Ho Ho! Captain Kang, the girl is back from her dreamland." A loud clear voice booms up from somewhere to the mentioned being.

Her eyes snap open at that and she immediately sits up and looks around at the environment and happenings around her.

Males, sailors and workers surrounded her, each one of them tended to their own work of pulling ropes, climbing the shrouds and balancing the wheel of the ship and much more.

'Ship!'

Her eyes widens and she sits up further from her leaning place to look around the hull of the ship.

She was in a ship, and let alone the former, she was in King Kang's ship.

'No! This can not be.'

She was just in her own residence. How did she get here?

Footsteps came her way and it took her a moment to realize that everyone was now staring at her.

She looked down at her hands, only to find them tied up and she soon realizes there’s a rope that goes around her whole body.

Her eyes shift up slowly when she notices someone’s legs show up before her, or to be more specific, a leg appears before her. And the other one had a wooden peg, looking like it had been carved from the bone of a whale. The peg was stuck into one of his cut out legs.

Her eyes trail further up to the individuals face and she soon lets the horror melt down to her heart.

There, right before her, stood King Kang, the captain of the ship she was currently flowing on.

The face she knew she could never forgot. The person who had killed her parents with his own hands. The one who had ruined her life in the span of a few seconds.

He was standing before her, all mighty and tall, his face has wrinkled from the last time she had seen him and the more she stare at him, the more she felt her hatred bubbling up.

"What do you want from me?" She speaks up, her glare piercing as it dug into him with the force of a bullet.

The captain lets out a chuckle of amusement. "Getting in to the concern straight ahead. Brave girl. If your father was to be present, he would have patted your adorable little head for your bravery."

Y/n’s eyebrow twitched, having no motive but to just jump on him and claw his eye out. Words bitter, she spits out. "He would have if his life wasn’t taken from him by the very person who has some nerve to stand before me."

A slight shock passes through his eyes, then suddenly he begins to laugh humorously, his sailors following after him like they have just heard the joke of the seventh sea.

"Avast ye, my sailors." He calls out to his sailors who already have all their attention on him. "The little girl knows who has murdered her father."

"Yes! I murdered him and your mother. But i was not at fault. The target was someone else. They were the ones who came in between a shot arrow." Captain Kang spoke up, walking towards the chain edge with the help of a wooden stick in his hand.

Y/n furrowed her brows. “Another target?"

The male look out at the deep sea and smirks. "You!" He then turns around and grins almost evily. "You were the reason they died."

The woman's eyes widen and she releases a breath.

No way.

It can not be.

'He's lying.'

"Stop lying." She spits.

The male tilts his head and hums, showing his fake disappointment. "What would i get from lying? What is done is done! Your precious family is gone and your oh so loyal friends have also deceived you."

"They did not." Y/n denies, even though the truth had been lumping in her throat from the moment she saw Captain Kang inside her father's secret passageway.

Jin promised to help her but he betrayed her and now she is aware of that.

"Oh but he did. All of them did. They were not even on your side from the beginn--"

"Stop!" She shouts. "Just stop!" Her hands were shaking, her eyes had welled up with tears, yet she did not let him see her weakness.

She did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her breaking down.

Captain Kang grumbles. "Oh well. You have none to be with. They all are gone now and now....it is your turn."

She snaps her head up at him.

Is he going to kill her?

"What? I am doing you a favour. You will meet your papa up there soon." The Captain grins before turning and ordering out his sailors with a booming voice.

"Take out the plank. Our princess is going to walk to meet her death."

Order was said and every sailor got to their work, yelling out to their fellow sailors as they ready her death.

Y/n just stares at him with shock and horror but at the same time she displays a visage of pure hatred.

Is this the end? Is he going to kill her without telling her the reason?

He had already killed her parents and now, she is going to die without knowing the reason of her death.

But yet in some ways, he was completely right.

She’s alone.

Everyone she knew had left her. Their words and friendship were never genuine not even one bit.

She was a lone woman. How will she even get her revenge if she didn’t manage to get out of here?

Lost deep in thoughts, she did not realize how she ended up standing on the edge of the deck, a small plank now in front of her.

She glanced down at the deep blue sea water, waiting to swallow her whole.

Nothing more had scared her than the sea itself.

She had always run away from the ocean. Who knew she would end up dying inside of it?

She took a step further towards the plank, ignoring the whistles and wolf calls from the sailors behind her.

she breaths out, letting the wind wipe past her hair as she stares at the setting sun that was accompanied with light shades of orange.

She took another shaky step, her hands bound to each other with a rope.

'This is the end.'

Her ears suddenly buzzed, feeling the hot air furiously whipping behind her.

Her whole world shakes. She stumbles on her toes as she hears a sailor scream out behind her.

"Captain!! We've been attacked!"

Everything turns into a sudden chaotic mess, hearing shouts and panic people falling out of the deck to the ocean to save their lives, yet she stays frozen in her place.

"He's here! The king of the Seven Seas is here!"

She slowly turns around at the blabbering words of the sailors and a gasp leaves past her lips.

Right before her, stood a ship so giant that it was combined with almost three of the current ship she was in.

Darkness radiated off of the whole ship, and what scared her more was the black flag that swayed from on top of the mast, carrying a skull that looked too real to be called a drawn one.

She was not the one who has walked to her death now. The death has walked up to her.

She stood there absolutely shocked, her legs carrying all her weight on the plank as she stared up at the ship that was intimidatingly hovering over King Kang's ship.

Sailors and guards were panicking, some deciding to  jump off of the ship to survive, while some decided to not run away from the battlefield by staying inside the ship.

Y/n felt a hand latching onto her wrist before the figure pulled her down from the plank.

Her first instinct was to fight against the hold of the unknown, trying to jerk her body away. "Let me go!"

The male pulled her closer and shushed her. "Stop fighting. I'm trying to save you.”

This was said and the female began to feel a tiny bit calmer as she looked up at the unknown male.

He was broad, giant even. And she couldn’t deny the fact that he was breathtaking either. His fit was as clean as freshly new washed cloths while he sternly stared down at her.

"Come with me." The male mumbled, before pulling her with him.

Y/n stared at his back as she was blankly carried away.

He's one of King Kang's men.

Why is he helping her?

She opened her mouth to question his act of kindness when all of a sudden, a booming voice halts her.

"Captain Kang." It was a mischievous call causing Y/n to turn her head towards the source.

Her steps slowed down slightly when her eyes land upon a man leaning on the shrouds of the other ship.

His clothing was definitely that of a pirate, figure lean and big as he playfully swung the sword around his hand.

"What do you want, Captain Park?" Kang spat out, his shoulders hunched as he glared up at the young looking male.

'Captain Park!!'

Y/n's eyes widens, looking up at the handsome looking male who was smirking.

"No hate. You just have something precious of mine." Captain Park speaks, twirling his body skillfully around the rope of the shroud without fear of falling down into the sea. "And I'm here to get it back."

The unknown male suddenly picks up his pace, dragging Y/n away, pulling her towards somewhere she was not aware of.

"Where are you taking me?" She questioned, her eyes not pulling away from Captain Park.

"You have to leave.” The male states, making her turn to him.

"What?"

He stopped and turned his head to her. "Try to understand, young lady. This place is not safe for you anymore."

"Yeah and when was it ever safe for me in the first place." She sarcastically spoke out.

The male sighs out of irritation. "Look, at least Captain Kang gave you permission to die, Captain Park over there would not even do that."

With that, he started to pull her away again.

Y/n dropped her shoulders and turned around to glance at the newly entered Captain again, but to no avail, she could not see him anymore as she now was too far away.

The male came to a stop in front of a small hanging ship and worked to bring it down to the wooden ground of the deck.

Y/n stared at him, wondering as to why he, a man of King Kang, who was for an unknown reason trying to kill her, was helping her out.

The ship hit the ground with a thud and the male worked to push it out of the deck, so that he could easily pull it down to the sea once she got in.

He then turned towards her and ordered. "Get in."

Y/n blinked at him before speaking up. "Why are you helping me?"

The male stared back at her for a second before turning his head away. "That I can not tell you."

Y/n frowned before taking a step towards him. "What is your name then?"

The male released a breath and approached her. He then grabbed a hold of her waist and without any difficulty, he raised her small figure and put her inside the small ship.

Y/n tried to hide her shock at his sudden act and pulled her legs inside the ship and pursed her lips at his absence of an answer.

"You would be able to successfully escape if you continue South, there is a town on that side. Find a safe shelter there and please stay hidden. Captain Kang would not give up on finding you, especially if Captain Park decides to sink this ship."

Y/n stared at him in disbelief. All she asked was his name and his motive in helping her and he replied with everything except the answer of the question she had asked him.

"You are unbelievable!"

The male, for the first time, chuckled out, the stern crease of his brow turning up in amusement as a dimple introduced itself in one of his cheeks.

"Stay safe." He spoke out, slowly pulling on the rope and Y/n felt herself moving down as the ship drifted out from Captain Kang's ship. "And it's Kim Namjoon."

He finally answered her question and a small smile welcomes Y/n's features.

"Thank you, Kim Namjoon." She beamed before he slowly disappeared from her sight.

She grabbed a hold of the side of the small boat, feeling it slowly hitting the waves of the sea beneath her.

Her heart skipped a beat as the scent of the ocean and freedom filled her senses, the waves drifting her further away from the two large ships.

"Where's the girl?" Her shoulders immediately tense up when she hears the angered voice of Captain Park echoing throughout the sea and she swore she heard the sea beneath her growling too.

As if the sea was also a part of him.

She looked back at the two ships that were facing each other and found them pretty far away from her as her boat hurriedly drifted away from them.

She sighed out and dropped her shoulders in relief as the ocean took her towards the South.

She escaped.

She managed to escape from two of the most well-known pirates without a single wound.

But this meant she now knew that she was no longer safe.

--

The captain of the enormous ship nibbled at the bottle of rum as he stared out at the sea that danced for him in the form of waves.

"I say you do not take much concern, ey captain."

A voice speaks out behind him and the male grunts.

"He took what belongs to me. And he had the nerve to lie." The male spat out before gulping down the rum in his hand.

The sailor let out a sigh behind him. "But captain, even you are aware that captain Kang never lies."

This makes the captain snap his head back at his sailor. "Then why did he abduct her? And where is she now?"

The sailor dropped his shoulders. "We looked through the whole ship. Her presence was not there."

"Then where is she?" The captain mumbles, sounding like all chances are gone.

His sailor bit his lip, concern displayed in his eyes.

The king of seven seas was never hopeless.

He had hope on his side.

He had power in him.

This was the first for him and all of them.

"Captain Park.." The loyal sailor calls slowly and carefully. "I have a feeling that she has escaped to sea. She might still be in the ocean."

Captain Park lets his words go through his mind and a silence clouds upon them.

How was he so late on getting there?

How did she manage to escape and how did he not notice?

All of this was a mystery to him and he could not help but let a lump of anger build into his throat.

"It seems like a storm will form." The sailor behind him mumbled and the captain looked up at “his” ocean.

The waves rolled against each other and the sky was dark, not a single star nor the moon in sight as they were covered with the dominance of dark clouds.

His ocean hair flying back with the wind as he mumbled out.

"I will let you take control then." He calls out to the waves. "Take care of her like you take care of your sunken ships."

--

Y/n coughed, her lungs stretching with the force of her throat inhaling the air that was hesitating to enter her body.

She raised her head slowly, her eyes blurry from all the water and sand that has entered through her eyelids.

A groan leaves past her lips when she feels her head spinning, her body slightly yet painfully numb.

With much difficulty, she sits up and blinks a few times to clear her vision.

The cold wind runs past her figure, goosebumps raising over her skin.

She looks down at her attire and finds it wet with sea water, sand sticking to many parts of her clothes and legs like glue.

She reaches out and dusts off some of the sand, looking up towards the sea that had just oh-so-carefully led her towards the seaside.

She pulled her hair back by brushing a hand through it and tried to remember all that happened last night.

It was something unusual.

She remembered it clearly.

The forming of a big bubble around her body when she was slowly drowning in the vast sea due to the storm.

The fact that she could breathe inside the unusual water bubble.

The fact that it took her safely towards the South after she almost drowned was even more unusual.

She dusted off the sand from her elbow and stood up, all the while feeling the silk of her dress soaked.

She walked up towards the seashore and bent down to wash her legs and hands.

"A survivor, huh."

She flinches and immediately turns her head behind at the playful voice and wanders her eyes to spot the individual.

With no luck, she finds no one behind her.

"And a woman at that." The individual who seems to be a male speaks again and she directs her gaze up at the abandon broken ship that was resting on the right side of the shore, right before an enormous mountain.

Her eyes catch a figure leaning on one of the broken masts of the ship causing her to take a step back.

Her eyes narrow at his carefree figure and he smiles at her. "Huh?"

"You survived the storm last night. Are you not just a lucky woman, ey!" He chuckles, rounding the mast almost resembling what Captain Park did yesterday.

She pursed her lips and stared at his attire. "Some people are really fortunate sometimes."

The male nods and jumps down to the ground from the edge of the hull. "Indeed. The sea took your side."

"Is this the South?" She asks, looking around at the area that seemed to only have a heavy green forest and mountains on it's lands.

The male ambles towards her slowly. "It is."

She nods. "I am lucky enough then."

She then turns to him, all the while keeping her senses high. "Who are you?"

The male tilts his head to the side. "Curious i see."

Y/n resists the urge to roll her eyes and waits for him to answer her properly.

"I'm Kim Taehyung, a mighty sailor." He takes off his hat and bends down to introduce himself.

Y/n nods, keeping her distance.

"And may i have the grace of knowing this beautiful lady’s name?" He questions, putting his hat back on.

The female hesitates before speaking. "It is Y/n."

She does not tell him too much and that seems to satisfy the male enough as he nods.

"Well..my lady, it is lovely to be in your presence. And as you have landed in this area, let a great sailor like me lead you inside this hidden island."

'Hidden?'

Y/n furrowed her brows at his words as she turns towards the deep forest.

A gasp leaves her lips when she no longer finds the greenery born there.

It was replaced with lots of homes and life as many people continued their tasks and conversations with no sign of any threats nearby.

"Welcome to the hidden heart of Korea"

Y/n's eyes widen as she stared at the many males and females wandering around the small town-like civilization, carefree, seeming to be living there life to the fullest.

"Ya like this place, my lady?" Taehyung grins proudly, hands placed over his hips as he stared at the place like it was his creation.

Y/n nods in awe, her mouth parting as she starts to amble towards the town, her curiosity taking over.

The male smirked and followed behind her.

"If you do not mind me questioning, what brought you here?"

Y/n blinked out of her daze, stepping in the town as she peeked around everything. "The waves."

Taehyung sighed, pursing his lips. "Of course, what else!"

Y/n nods, disregarding his sarcastic words as she continues to walk further inside, still in awe.

Who would have known that a whole established town could be found behind an abundant forest.

"This place is huge." She spoke, picking up an almond sample that was displayed outside a street shop and popping it inside her mouth.

Taehyung hums, imitating her actions, however, his sample consisted of a whole fistful of almonds. "It is called the heart of Korea for a reason."

Y/n furrowed her brows and turned to him. "Then why is this place hidden? It should be out there for people to admire."

Taehyung smiles, stepping closer to her. "A heart should always be hidden. If it is attacked, it can stop beating and it will die."

Y/n held her breath, staring at his face that was now closer to hers.

She breathes out when the male smiles and steps away from her.

He starts to walk away and she hurriedly turns to him. "Wait! Then how do you know this place?"

"This island only brings those who it has chosen itself. You and I are one of them." The male explains, walking, all the while sensing the female following after him.

'But someone else lead me here...'

She ran up to him, deciding not to tell him about how exactly she had gotten to this wondrous place .

"How long have you been here?" She questions, her hands fisting up her dress as she tries to pick up his long strides.

"Long enough to know where the treasure is hidden." He mumbles, the smile never leaving his lips.

He stops in his tracks and turns his head around when he feels the female halting her steps.

He raises his brows in amusement when he reads the confusion written all over her face. "Do not worry yourself. It is nothing important."

Y/n dropped her shoulders. "How will I get around here? I am not even familiar with this place."

"Oh ya!" The male speaks out. "Do not be concerned. You have me." He grinned.

The female just stares at him, her gaze not even in the slightest showing any sort of trust in him.

Her expression made him narrow his eyes at her, betrayal plastered all over his face. "I am the first person you’ve met. You have to trust me more than anyone here."

"Look!" She tries to avoid his gaze. "I have not experienced good happenings these past few days. All I need is a safe place to stay." She gave up, feeling even ashamed to be asking for help.

The male pursed his lips, nodding. "You will be safe with me. I have the best place."

-

Y/n grinds her teeth as she glares at Taehyung in annoyance, her figure hidden away in the far corner from everyone's notice.

The male was standing away from her, two skinny females accompanying his sides as they openly flirt with each other.

Drunk people surrounded her, gulping down their rum in big gulps while not even caring about their well-being.

That bastard had brought her to a rum bar that was obviously not legal nor registered.

Taehyung catches her eye and he grins at her, immediately stepping back when he felt the hot, lava-like stare thrown his way.

Y/n watched as he bid both the females goodbye before ambling his way off.

She narrowed her eyes further and crossed her arms over her chest, her foot patting the ground as she waited for him to walk over to her.

"How ya like this place?" He grins and Y/n feels her eye twitch.

"Very much. This place will be a great area to bury your body." She spits and he flinches.

"Why? Are you jealous? Those ravishing women meant nothing to me."

"I am going to kick you between your legs so hard, you will stay childless forever."

The male scrunched his face, his hands cupping his precious between his legs. "Who would have thought that such a fragile woman like you would be this violent."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Please get me out of here. I do not like this even in the slightest bit."

The male straightens his back. "I guess you do not like this place like I thought you would. I have to take you somewhere.." He suddenly steps closer to her. "Magical."

She flinched back, her back hitting the wall and she stares at Taehyung with wide eyes.

"What is with you suddenly stepping in my space?"

Taehyung pulls away slightly and smirks. "What is with you looking so irresistible all the time?"

Y/n scrunches her nose. "I was not joking when I said I will hit you somewhere."

"Okay." The male speaks, stepping away from her for his own good.

Y/n scoffs, pulling her back away from the wall. "Where are you taking me?"

"Like i said." The male turns around and looks over his shoulder. "Somewhere magical."

He starts to walk away and the female hurriedly picks up her pace behind him.

"It better be safe."

The male smirks. "Oh it is."

'Especially for you.' 

---

The male jerked open the wooden portal and pushed the non-living object aside to enter the residence.

He kicks away the small log in front of the entrance and turns towards the female standing behind him.

"After you, my lady." He bows down slightly on his side, his hands displayed in front of her in a royal manner.

Y/n looked over the small, hut-like residence before placing a foot over the step, her hand gripping the night dress she had been wearing since the attack closer to her body.

She could no longer feel the wet fabric, but the cold that came after, like an unwelcomed friend was sending chills down her spine.

She hurriedly yet carefully entered the residence and immediately looked around the inside for hidden dangers.

Once finding none in the entrance, she turned and waited for the male to enter the place too.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in amusement and freely ambles his presence next to her and further inside.

The female follows after him, oh-so-thankful for the gown that was draped around her body, on top of her night dress.

She could feel her skin eating up the silk as each second passed by.

Could she ask Taehyung for something to wear?

She knew that was embarrassing and he probably had no female clothes, or if that was just what she thought?

He was, after all, a pervert.

She swallowed her pride, parting her lips for her request. "Do you perhaps--"

Cutting her own sentence short, she whipped her head back towards the way she came in.

She swore she just heard a thud.

Her eyes trailed over to the door and her eyebrows immediately furrowed.

The door....it was closed. She does not remember closing it when she followed after Taehyung.

She stands there for a second, her eyes starting to waver as she looks around everywhere.

"My precious, please come inside. I have something for your grace." Taehyung’s voice came from the open area inside the residence and Y/n was immediately snapped out of her train of thoughts.

She blinks.

'It could be the wind..' She said, convincing herself.

'Or some kid who closed it from outside..' She tried calming herself down.

At this point, she knew she should not trust anyone. Especially not with what just happened to her.

But she could not help but feel a little bit safe with Taehyung.

She didn’t know what that meant. Maybe it was the sweet scent he carried around with him.

She quickly discarded everything in her head and took her steps towards the area where the male was.

She entered the small area and looked around. Three to four logs were placed in the middle of the chamber, resembling a dining table and chairs, a poorly built fireplace was born in the corner where Taehyung was now forming the fire.

Y/n sighed out and entered the chamber fully, her first priority being the fireplace to get some sort of warmth soaking into her skin.

Taehyung chuckles when he spots her and continues to throw in small pieces of wood inside the burning fire.

"You must be cold. I have taken out some clothes for you." The male points towards the attire placed on one of the logs.

Y/n looks at the clothes before walking towards them.

She picked up the white shirt and the baggy pants, she had seen many sailors wear whenever they had come to visit the seaside of her father's kingdom. The attire was also accompanied by long leather boats, a small coat to wear over the white shirt, and a feminine pirate hat.

She raised her brows and turned towards the male who was sitting down on one of his knees, hands and mind busy firing the fireplace.

"No female clothes?" She voices out, grabbing his attention.

The male hums. "I may look like a manwhore.." Saying that, he turns his head to her and continues. "But i am not."

Y/n's eyes brighten with amusement before a giggle leaves past her lips. "Who could have thought."

She locked her gaze with his and her expression turned into a confused one when she found him staring at her with wide eyes.

"Woah!" He awes. "This is the first time I have seen you smile." His eyes were dazed, glazed over even, openly expressing how the smallest act from her has affected him.

He could not help it, she was beautiful.

"Trust me when i tell you, this is the first time I have let out a smile in days." She speaks, her eyes directing downwards towards the shirt in her hand as she recalls the state she was in right now.

From a royal chamber room, she was now in an island she did not know even exited, let alone being taken away by King Kang and going through a dangerous storm.

The amount of days in between all these happenings was less than the days she had to breathe happily with her parents when she was young.

"Really? So am I the cause of those heavenly dimples that have decided to greet me in the prettiest of the way?" Taehyung grins, eyes holding pride.

Y/n looked up. "You are. Thank you, Kim Taehyung." She smiles genuinely at him.

If it wasn’t for him, she would still have been wandering around this confusing island.

If she can not trust him completely, she can at least thank him.

Taehyung nods and turns his head back towards the fireplace, hiding away the pink that was now dusting his cheeks. "There is a chamber upstairs. You can change your attire and take a bath if you want."

Y/n hums and glances at the stairs that led the individuals upstairs.

She hesitates but decides to amble towards them anyways.

"Do not feel like a burden and call me if you need any help." He teases.

"You know how much of a gentleman i am-- Wow wow!! I am sorry. I am sorry." The male squeals, falling on his butt while dodging the frames the female throws his way.

"Good ocean! That is violent, woman."

"Think before you speak then." Y/n grumbles back from the stairs.

"I can not help it." The male mumbles, before grinning. "You are too irresistible."

However, the grin on his face immediately melts away like a fragile chunk of ice when the female is out of sight.

"And I am sorry for what will soon happened..."

-

Y/n buttoned up the black coat and placed the pirate hat over her head.

She looked herself over and sighed out.

At this rate, she looked like one of those female pirates she had always looked up to.

And did she like it?

Oh yes she does.

But does she dislike it too?

Of course.

She was used to wearing dresses, being comfortable in clothing she had never worn is a bit hard.

But at least she is warmer and the clothes are a bit too big on her so it is not too revealing.

She opens the portal of the chamber and skips out of the room.

Walking towards the stairs to go down, her footsteps halt when she hears some mumbling downstairs.

She would have thought that it was Taehyung but there were many of them murmuring together, clearly indicating that there were more individuals here.

Her eyes narrow slightly in confusion and she takes a step back.

No! Taehyung did not look like someone who would betray her.

But then again, so did Jin and she had trusted him.

"Please do not be it.." She silently pleads, backing away.

Her figure did not allow her further access as it was stopped by a firm block.

A breathing block.

Her eyes immediately widen at the warm breath over her neck and before she could pull away, an arm suddenly wraps around her and pulls her in.

"Got ya!"

Y/n's eyes widen in horror and she immediately pushes forward to escape the arm that is keeping her still.

But to no avail, she was soon jerked back into the arms of the male and her shoulders immediately tense up when the unknown male moves his mouth closer to her ear.

"I can not let you run away, not again."

Y/n let out a shaky breath and moved her head to the other side so that he could not force her into something she did not want to do.

She was scared.

She didn’t have a single idea as to who this male was, but the tease and tone in his voice somehow reminded her of a familiar voice she had heard before.

"Let me go." She ordered, yet her voice completely gave away her fear.

The male behind her chuckles, his hot breath brushing against her hair. "If i had the intention of letting you go. I would not have caught you from the beginning."

Y/n starts to wiggle in his arms, doing her best to remove them from around her.

By the much hard work she had put into her escape, the male strangely lets her go.

Y/n does not question her sudden release and runs towards the staircase and towards her freedom.

In just some steps in, her curiosity hits her and she turns around to look at her capturer, only to be left frozen for a few seconds.

Captain Park.

It was him. He was there.

And what makes it much worse is that he had let her escape that easily while watching her with amusement filling his eyes.

That’s because he knew he will always catch her anyways.

The female fastened her pace and hurriedly walked down the remaining steps.

She however, halts her steps when her eyes land on the many figures that are standing around the open area of the chamber where Taehyung very was, or more like the whole place.

They all turn to look at her but her eyes only direct towards Taehyung who’s eyes immediately flash with guilt.

And that is when she gives up.

How would she not?

The sailors were everywhere around the residence and the calmness in the male upstairs showed how easy it was to find her, even if she escaped.

So with much regret, she drops her shoulders and grumply drags her steps towards them.

Walking in between the many sailors who could simply not just stop staring at her like she was a three course meal, she comes to a stop in front of the only male she knew.

The steps run down the stairs of Taehyung's residence and soon enters the one and only, the Captain himself.

His posture was carefree like it was the last time, a smile tugged on his lips like a daily act as he walked in further inside the chamber.

Y/n slowly shrinks back at his presence, the mischievous era she felt around him was the opposite of what he had displayed.

He looked and smelled like a living dark nightmare.

Or it could just be the fact that he was the king of the seven seas.

"My mermaid, i am the king of the seven seas, Park Jimin." The male’s broad shoulders bow down at her with the posture of a prince, his pirate hat held in his hand in respect.

Y/n bites her lips and takes a step back.

It is still not too late right?

She could escape if she wanted.

Scratch what she said earlier. She might still have a chance.

The male straightens his back and smirks at the confusion written all over her pretty features.

"What do you want from me..?" She mumbles, her eyes searching for a route to escape towards the door.

"Oh you will know soon. Taehyung!" Jimin calls and the sailor hums. "Tell the pretty

lady what she is here for."

Taehyung caught her eyes and opens his mouth. "There is an important reason for you to be here, precious."

"Stop." She furrowed her brows and stared at him straight in the eyes. "I do not really want to know."

With that said, she backs away and makes a run towards the door by a small gap between the sailors.

No one runs after her but she still continues to look for the last string of hope.

That, however also breaks the moment she witnesses the many giant sailors that guard the entrance portal.

Y/n comes to a stop and annoyance immediately attacks her nerves.

Well now the giving up statement officially comes to her.

'There is no way out.'

With much more grumpiness, she turns back on her heels and stomps them towards the open area where she just came from again.

Hands crossed over her chest and face scrunched up in an angry pout, she walks back from in between the many sailors and comes to a halt in the same place she was just standing on.

Two of the males smile at her mood and an adoration filled chuckle leaves from one of the cheerful looking sailors that stood right behind Jimin.

She glares at him before turning to Taehyung again. "Shoot!" She angrily orders.

The male nods while taking a step towards Jimin's back to protect himself from the daggers the female was currently throwing at him. "Yeah... Captain is connected to you in a deep relation."

Jimin’s smile widens at the confusion that immediately flashed through her eyes and before he knew it, the anger lingering so adorably in her features is completely replaced with confusion in a short spam of time.

"What do you mean?" She tilts her head to the side in pure curiosity and the king of the seven seas had to stop the sudden urge to just scoop her in his arms.

He just could not stop staring at her.

How long has it been since he had started craving her? He does not remember.

All he knows is that she is here now, right in front of his eyes.

"My precious.... He is your fiancé." Taehyung informs slowly and quietly and the female's eyes widens.

"You are joking, right?" Y/n questions in disbelief and passes a glance at Jimin which clearly displayed horror.

'This can not be. He is lying!'

"He is not." Jimin speaks up, his expressions nowhere near playful now. "Your father has connected us together since young. You belong to me."

The demand and power in his voice shakes her to her pulp and her eyes start to shake in fear.

"What?..." She whispers, feeling like the ground has been jerked away from underneath her feet.

How is it him? Why is it him?

She had heard so much about him. The stories of him mercilessly killing half the legal and illegal pirates without a single breath sent chills down her spine.

They say he never stops. There isn't a single place where he has stayed more than a few hours.

There were even books written about him. The royal guards from all over the seven shores were after him yet no one had even laid a single finger on him.

And now she is stuck with him, over something her father had agreed to when he was still alive.

But it can also not be true. How is she supposed to believe him just like that?

As if reading her mind, Jimin answers. "There is more than given proof."

"Where are the given ones then?" She spits back, gaining some of the confidence but that soon disappears when he steps closer to her.

"That is what we have to find out. Right now, you are coming with me. I can not leave you here for more danger." The male orders and steps closer to her, all the while watching the female back away from him.

The female crouched her shoulders up to her ear and mumbles out. "What if i do not want to."

The male smiles at her small figure. "Then you know what bad girls get. You are going to be a good girl, right.”

Her mouth turns into an offended pout and she directs her eyes down at his shoulder, her body fluttering in embarrassment at his inappropriate words.

Like hell she will let him touch her.

She might be afraid of him but she will not let him do anything to her.

She straightens her back and glanced up at him before looking behind him, Taehyung's eyes linking with hers.

It's all his fault.

She just can not leave without doing something.

She walks past her so called fiancé and steps in front of the sailor and looks up at him.

Taehyung stares back, the mischief and perverted-ness far gone from his figure and that makes the female even more angrier.

Raising her hand in the air, she slaps it right across his cheek.

The male immediately reacts by wincing out. "Auch! Goddamn woman."

"This is what you get for betraying me." Y/n mumbles before turning around and walking off outside the residence.

"Let us go now."

Jimin stares at her in awe as she walks off before throwing his head back in a humorous laughter.

---

Y/n stared at the many sailors who ready the ship for another round around the sea to god knows where.

She was standing on the deck, fear lumping in her throat as she slowly plots out all the scenarios where she might get killed.

She would have never gone with The King of The Sea if she was not to be alone.

But that is exactly what she was at the moment.

She is lonely and she does not have the protection around her nor over her head.

If Taehyung was kind enough to take her to his residence, offer her his attire, then he would not hurt her, right?

Sailors carried their duffles inside the ship, some cleaning the ship by scrubbing holystones in the logs. Some looked after the ropes and the shrouds while some took care of the long masts and sails that are used to change directions of the giant ship.

Everyone was busy, even Captain Park who took part in helping his sailors.

Y/n just watched from afar, no one daring to even pass her a glance after finding out who she actually was, especially to their captain.

"Do you not think you were a little bit too harsh on Taehyung?" The voice of the male brings her back from her chain of thoughts and she immediately turns to look at who it was.

The cheerful looking male who was always stuck to the captain's side grins at her, proudly showing off his gums and the many teeth that have turned black from the lack of care.

Y/n frowns when his words reach her, causing her to look away. "He deserved it."

The male nods, stepping by her side. "He does, but he did help you."

The male points out and the female turns her head to him. "He also helped his captain by informing him my location."

The male stares at her with his usual doe eyes before he directs them over his shoulders to something. "Well...."

Y/n follows the direction of his eyes and her gaze immediately finds the fluffy brown hair of Taehyung.

The male was leaning his back on one of the cannons, figure small and head hung low, his mouth was in a pout like a small sulky child and regret immediately starts to swell her up.

She looks away before the feeling could fully swallow her and she soon looks out at the sailors who were working.

"Taehyung never had the intention of hurting you. Actually, if it weren’t for him, you would not even be breathing right now." The male further breaks the walls around her and succeeds when the guilt she was running away from catches up to her quick, swallowing her into its mud.

She huffs and puffs and crosses her arms over her chest, resisting the urge to just turn around and run away from everything that surrounds her.

The male chuckles at her when he notices the change of her mood. "You are adorable."

She snaps her eyes up and narrows them at him. She fully looks him through before turning around and walking towards the sulking male.

Taehyung rubs his fingers over his cheeks which have just been slapped and he lets out another whine.

He had been slapped thousands of time by all the females he had slept with, but not once has he felt this hurt.

He flinched slightly when y/n’s figure comes to stand next to him and he glances at her from under his overgrown tips of hair.

"I am sorry." He apologizes, voicing a whisper.

"Do not be." She waves her fingers at him. "It was your job, besides, i would not even be here if it was not for you."

Taehyung feels her lean on another cannon next to him and nods slowly. "Indeed. I was lucky enough to find you first. The pirate world is not that safe, you see."

Y/n scoffs. "I know that. But you saved me."

She knew really well how messed up this world was. She had been through so much in just a spam of one day.

Taehyung shakes his head. "I did not. He did." He states, pointing his gaze up at the quarterdeck where the wheel of the ship was.

Y/n follows his direction and her eyes land on the figure of the one and only captain of the ship who was looking through some kind of map.

"We were just on our way to get you from your kingdom." Taehyung starts explaining. "But we turned the ship to the other side the moment we heard about your abduction done by Captain kang."

Y/n tears her eyes away from the captain and questions him. "Why were you coming to get me?"

"Cause it is time for you to be beside the captain. It is time for you both to bond. That is what was decided." Taehyung explains the situation, leaving the female even more confused.

"Why would they even bond us together?" The female takes off the pirate hat she was wearing and rakes a hand through her hair.

"That is something I can not tell you, my precious. Captain Park knows best in that matter." Taehyung watched her from the side, his gaze lingering over her long soft looking brown hair to the distressed look on her face.

"He got so furious." He whispers, the scene fresh to his eyes.

When the female turns to him in question, he can not help but continue. "When captain heard about what Captain Kang had done, he had immediately ordered to get you back. Though it is highly hard to understand how you escaped from there."

Y/n stared at him for a second, the familiar face of the male who had helped her escape popping in her mind instantly  "It was just a coincidence. Luck was on my side."

'Kim Namjoon.'

She recalls in her head. She could never forget him. The generosity he had shown to her even when he looked like an important individual of Captain Kang was even more to take in.

He actually looked kind and gentle in between all the wolves that surrounded him.

Taehyung nods. "However, you will gain answers to all your questions from the captain himself. He will not say everything but enough to erase all your curiosity."

-

"You will stay here." The male shows the female around the chamber.

"Who's cabin is this?" She questions, trailing her eyes everywhere around the wooden walls and the simply decorated chamber as she placed herself on the edge of the mattress.

The male grins from behind her. "It belongs to the captain."

Y/n instantly sprung up from the bed, eyes staring shocked at the male who bursted into a humorous laughter.

Her eyes glares at him. "It is not that funny."

"Oh but it is." The male controls his amusement and placed a hand on his hip in a call for some sanity.

"Where would your captain sleep?...Um" Y/n trails off at the end of the sentence when she could not recall the male's name.

'What was it again?'

"Jung Hoseok. And do not worry. You will soon get to sleep with him." Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at her and the female's jaw almost drops to the floor.

Pink furiously tints her cheeks and she stutters out a threat. "Say that one more time and you will see what will happen to you."

Hoseok immediately takes a step back and puts his hands in front of him in surrender. "Calm down, little tiger. I am just joking." He puts on a horrified expression but his fake fear was as clear as crystal.

"You better be. Now leave please." She rolls her eyes and turns around to look around the whole room.

"As you say, my lady. You can request the captain's presence if you feel lonely. He will come running right awa---"

Cut off by an object thrown his way, the male immediately closes the door behind him to prevent getting hit by the boot that is violently gifted to him by the female.

--

Y/n sat up from the bed she had been laying on and her eyes trailed over all the objects that accompanied her.

The room looked expensive. Many rolled maps were resting on the big shelf on the right. Small figurines of ships and guards were placed in a small working area in the corner and a treasure box was resting next to it.

The room smelt like the woods and the sea.

She hung her legs from the side of the mattress and carefully got down from the bed which was quite high up.

She walked up to the small work place and looked down at the map that was sprawled next to more small figurines.

Her delicate fingers trail over the small lines on the map and her hand immediately jerks back when the lines and waves drawn in the map start moving.

Her lips part in awe at the scene before her, the waves made it look like she was watching them sway with each other in real life. Another spot, more south on the map was swirling with black, imitating a storm that seemed to be currently going on over the said area.

Another big ship swayed in the middle, looking all familiar, tall and black.

Small writings were written over it in italic, reading Black Pearl.

The ship looked familiar to the one that appeared before Captain Kang's ship the other day. The ship Captain Park was in.

The ship she was now present on.

Her eyes widen.

She was in the well-known Black Pearl.

The ship that speaks. The only ship with black sails.

The one that does not tolerate a single outcomer inside of it. The one which had been there since the beginning.

She was now inside of it and it had not done anything to kick her out.

As much as she had heard, the ship does not like it when someone who is not related to it rides it.

The cursed ship, as many say, will do anything to not let any unknown individual step even a foot on its ground.

And here she is, laying around in its bed.

She backed away from the table and turned towards the portal of Captain Park's chamber.

She creaked open the door and looked around the area.

Only the wind stared back at her alongside the night sky because there were no breathing individuals around.

Seeing that, she took a step outside of the four wood walls and in an instant a soft breath leaves her when the wind encloses her body in a gentle touch.

She really misses being free.

Her eyes trail around to make sure no one is in sight and when it is confirmed that no one is, she lets her tense shoulders drop.

The waves were black due to the dark night and she suddenly had the urge to look out at the deck.

'If you want to know the sea, communicate with it from over the edge.'

Jin's words recall in her mind and she scrunches her nose when his face wipes past her mind.

Moreover, she still listens and turns to the small stairs that will take her to the quarterdeck where the edge of the ship and the wheel stand.

She climbed up the stairs, keeping her steps low and soft to prevent her weight from waking the wood up. Its whining out and its creaking causing someone to hear is the last thing she wanted right now.

She carefully walked up the narrow stairs and halts her steps the moment her eyes look up.

Hair as blue and gray as the sea, the owner of the ship himself sat on the edge with his legs that seemed to be dangling off of the ship.

His back faced her and she instantly took in the relaxation of his shoulders and the silent aura around his giant figure.

She stared at him for a minute as the moon smiled upon him, his hair and attire softly swaying with the wind.

'He is beautiful.'

Her own sudden thought snapped her out of her daze, making her blink many times.

She silently took a step back to walk away, but of course the wood underneath her seemed to be having other thoughts as it finally screamed out a creak at the movement of her boots.

She flinches and Jimin calmly looks over his shoulder.

Her body tenses up and she is soon speechless the moment her eyes links with his.

Everything halts as his amber eyes take in her everything, flickering with what seems to be specks of silver.

"You are finally out, mermaid." He speaks softly and her breath hitched in her throat.

Why did she feel like this?

Why did he still look so intimidating when his aura at the moment was the complete opposite?

Her eyes waver away from him, as she was trying to look everywhere but him. She stutters out. "I-I will leave you alone."

She took another step back but was soon stopped by the captain when he spoke. "Do not go... come here. I will show you something."

She bit her lip and glanced up at him, her heart drumming in her chest at a fast rate as she thought about all the scenarios of her standing next to him.

She does not deny his offer, simply because she did not have a death wish. She slowly walked up to the edge.

In the end, she still wanted to look out at the ocean.

Jimin stood there silent and calm, watching her very hesitant steps as she moved closer to him.

Closer to him.

How long had he wanted just that? How long had he craved to steal just a single glance at her beauty he had heard about all his life?

How much did he feel the need to pull her small figure closer to him? How much did he want so badly to make her his?

He simply didn’t remember nor did he know, all he knows is that all he wants to do is to shout out to the whole world that he had found his treasure. He didn’t need gold or secret gems. He had found his diamond. His mermaid.

He was beyond whipped.

She came to a stop away from him and that made the captain smile.

He shifted his dangling legs inside the deck and jumped down from the edge.

Y/n tensed up even more as he stepped in closer to her.

"You are going to love this." He mumbled and without a single second slipping by, he reached his hands out towards her delicate waist and pulled her figure up from the ground without any difficulty.

A soft yelp left past Y/n's lips as she was manhandled into sitting on the edge in just a spam of a second.

She snaps her eyes up at him in horror and stops the urge to scream when she finds a huge grin brightening his features.

"Oh god.." She mumbles and removes her hands from around his shoulders that fisted his shirt.

Jimin bites his lips to stop himself from grinning too wide as his hands oh so hesitantly moves away from her waist.

Only he knows how much he wanted to just pull her into him right now.

Y/n breaks the eye contact and Jimin helps her turn her body around by grabbing her legs and gently shifting them on the other side.

"What if we fall?" She mumbles in between to herself, settling herself properly in her place.

"I would not let that happened." He replies back in a mumble and she looks up, only for her eyes to instantly turn wide.

A gasp leaves her lips as she now stares at the scenery before her.

The sea was calm, small diamond like pearls were floating in it, shining like little swaying stars. The sky mimics the action in its own, beautiful way. Soon,

creatures had rose from inside the waves, hair pushed back because of the force of the water, containing a body that was familiar to a human as they sung a melody all together.

They were mermaids.

She watched them in awe, observing the beauty of each detail in every creature.

The release of a firework was then heard and she immediately looked up at the straight tail of fire and before she knew it, it bursted, decorating the sky with many beautiful colors.

Jimin then, steps behind her and whispers in her ear. "A new year has begun and I am glad I have you next to me this time."

And then she heard all the sailors and guards scream out a happy new year.

Y/n stared at the scene before her as she continued to feel the breath of the male right behind her.

If she was not in such an awe and daze, she would have shrunk back from his close proximity.

Jimin stared down at her shoulder till the small of her back. The white oversized shirt made her look adorable, the sleeves were long, passing her fingers and going further down.

The feeling would have been a lot better if it was his attire, but there was a bitter lump in his throat because he was well aware that the attire was Taehyung's and knowing that his fiance smelled like another male who was also not him was not a good feeling.

If y/n wanted, he would give her his shirt that shall keep her warm and protected.

But of course he did not want to scare her away.

He was not an over-obsessed man who would end up hurting his loved one just because of his jealousy.

So like always, he let the fact go.

Walking away, he propped himself up on the edge and sat down next to her, making sure to leave a gap between them even if he did not want to.

"Beautiful, isn’t it! New Year is always a time to look forward to." Jimin speaks, his voice low as he did not want to startle her out of her daze.

The female nods, awestruck. "It is. So mermaids do exist."

Jimin glanced at her and smiled. "You have not seen anything. The sea is rich of creatures you have yet to know of."

The female blinked and turned to him. "Really? So the moving map in your room and a bubble suddenly appearing around me the other day should not surprise me."

The now amused male shook his head. "They should not. You are in for a huge surprise if small things like that shock you."

'Small things...'

The female parts her lips and her senses slowly come back to her.

She completely forgot that she was sitting next to The King of the Seven Seas, also the one who owns the biggest ship in the pirate world.

Y/n wonders her eyes away from him and increases the gap between them.

Jimin instantly notices this but keeps his mouth closed. Although he was a tad bit hurt,  he was well-aware of what kind of aura he gave off.

Of course she would keep her distance.

"You can ask me anything. I know you need answers." Jimin states, keeping his eyes ahead.

Y/n stays silent for a second, all the questions that have been bugging her for answers resurfacing in her head.

"I want answered as to what was decided between our fathers about our.. marriage. What relation did they have?" She questions quietly.

Jimin lets her words register in his head before speaking up. "Our fathers were great friends. My father was the sword provider for your father's army. And because of their friendship, they decided to bond their children into a marriage."

Y/n nods and asks another question. "About King Kang, he said my parents died because of me. Do you know what he meant by that?"

Jimin's facial expressions changed for a second when she spoke out his name but he controlled his emotions to calm the storm again.

"Kang likes to interfere in many things from the beginning. It has become his habit. Do not mind him and his ridiculous words."

The female furrowed her brows at his words and mumbled. "He killed my parents and he almost succeeded in killing me."

Jimin tensed up at the words that left her mouth and cleared his throat. "He would not get any closer to you. I can assure you that."

"So you are going to keep me here forever."

Jimin does not waste a second as he shook his head. "I brought you here because I wanted to protect you from all that you have been through. But the doors of my ship are open for you if you want to leave. I do not have any intentions of keeping you caged here. Though I would be hurt if you did leave."

Y/n lets his sentence register in her head, each of his words repeating in her mind many times.

She felt relieved. Why wouldn’t she when he literally laid out the idea that he would let her go if she wants to.

She will be free according to her own wish.

Was this even possible? Why is he suddenly speaking like that? Is he up to something?

But then again, if he wanted to hurt her, he would have done it by now. But he did not and she fully acknowledged that.

"What if i do not want to marry you?" She slowly questions and watched as his face breaks into a smile.

"That is something I would not let you do, my love. My father was a man of his words and I am his son. I have given my word to your father and I will not let you go." His words were firm yet softly spoken, telling her that even if she left, leaving forever was not a choice.

Y/n got quiet after that, thinking through the situation she was now in and how the time was so not fair.

Just a few days ago, she was free to breathe and do whatever she wanted to do. Now here she is inside a ship she never wanted to come across, next to someone she fears the most.

Life was indeed not fair with some people.

"You said there was proof." Y/n looks down at her fingers.

Jimin turns his head towards her and his eyes soften when he sees her small hunched figure. "There are many. We just have to find them."

Y/n directs her eyes to him. "Prove it to me. Find them, cause I currently do not wish to leave."

The editing took me hours but for you guys its worth it. hope you like the first look of the book. there is so much more to come. like, reblog and leave a comment if you guys like it :)))

©Yoonchrisgull do not steal my work 

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Home (DonnyxFem!Reader Postwar AU)

Requested by @struggling-bee

@tealaquinn @war-obsessed @owba-chan @inglourious-imagines

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

When the bands stopped marching, and the parade confetti was swept away, and the boys were all home, things seemed to be back to normal. Everyone seemed to live perfect lives in box homes.  The boys were home. But for you, somehow the end of the war brought some problems... The boys came home... Meaning, your roommate immediately got married, and left you to pay all the rent. The boys came home... Meaning, you lost your job at the factory. Donny came home... Meaning, he was a decorated war vet, and was bored. He went back to work in his father's barbershop. He woke up in the same room he did as a kid. The adventures were over...Something he couldn't abide by. So he moved out... He kept his job, but he needed to start a life of his own... The interviews stopped and the awards waned. The war and the heroes were no longer on the front page. Something about communism and bolsheviks was on the front page, something Donny was too tired to read. He sighed, and flipped through the paper, finding  a section full of people looking for roommates.  His eyes ran lazily over the names, until he spotted a familiar name... "Y/n...Y/n L/n..." He squinted at the name as the dimming light began to set. He wondered if it was really you... And a day later, you wondered if it was really Donny. THE Donny Donowitz looking for a roommate...it was almost unimaginable to you... What were the odds... Then you wondered (and perhaps even hoped) that he'd recognized your name... And you caught yourself. You went to school together, that was all, and that was all years ago. He wouldn't have remembered you. Besides, being a war hero of his status probably made his ego blow up, and made him even more of a jerk than you remembered... Why would you even want to room with him? But somehow...even then you thought he was cute... "God damn it...." You muttered trying to get yourself to listen to yourself. Still you sighed...You always had a thing for that ballplayer...Boy could he swing, on the field, and in the clubs... You remembered seeing him that night...It was late May. A drowsy summer night, back in 1939. The world was consumed in a war that had not yet dawned on either of you. You had graduated from high school that afternoon. That night practically everyone you knew was at that dance. Donny was surrounded by his friends from the old baseball team, and the girls. You were with your friends on the other side of the club, dancing the night away. But every once in a while you'd glance at him, and wish you were the one he’d asked to dance... Then you'd laugh at yourself... That would never happen. Seven years passed, and there he was, at the door of your apartment. He wanted to look around before renting with you... You opened the door, genuinely praying that there was another jerk in Boston named, "Donny Donowitz...." But no. Of course there wasn't. He was leaning againt the doorway, "Y/n? It's really you! How are ya!?" You were a little shocked for a moment as you gripped onto the door, "You...you know my name?" "Of course I do! It hasn't been that long, has it? Graduation...well..I barely graduated...but it's only cause of you." He grinned, genuionely.

"Really?" He didn't quite catch the sarcasm in your voice. "Yeah! Ms. Changretta's history class was a fucking killer, and you saved me. Just like in physics...chemistry...art...anyway..." He cleared his throat. He felt so happy to see you again, and he couldn't quite catch why. You were just the girl he used to copy homework from... And maybe steal a glance at every now and then But that was just so long ago... Still, as hard as it was to admit...Donny Donowitz still had a crush on you, after all those years. He may have been a notorious war hero, but that didn't make him any less shy when it came to you... "Anyway....I heard you were lookin' for a roommate...and I'm looking for a roommate, and-" You raised your eyebrow, and subtly pressed your hand against your forehead, expecting it to burn, wondering if this was actually happening, "Come on in. Take a look around." He smiled a little. You always were a bit of a 'no nonsense' type of girl. Time was always of the essence with you... That didn't change, apparently. So he leveled with you, and you leveled with him. He needed a new place, asap. And you needed help with the rent.

Donny moved in, and life went on... Kind of... You had a job interview one morning, not long after. Your eyes shot open as you glanced at your clock. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." You shot out of bed when you smelled something in the kitchen. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." You threw a robe on as you sped walked to the impending disaster... Instead you found Donny standing at the stove, making omelettes... "Good mornin' Y/n..." God, he'd practiced that in his head a million times and still didn't come off the way he wanted to. "Everything ok?" He raised his eyebrow when he looked at you, seeing how frantic you looked. "I...thought something was burning. I mean...you did almost burn the labs down once...." He chuckled, "That was a long time ago, kid." You smiled a little, and he glanced back at you, catching a glimpse at you in your night down.

He clenched his jaw, and turned back to the stove, clearing his throat, "Come on Donny...she's just your roommate...she's too smart for you..."

You looked down at yourself...

"Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck..."

 You stepped back into the hall, "I'll... I gotta get dressed..."

He nodded, "Yeah! I'll...get this ready for ya... No problem..."

You turned away, and walked back toward your room, but stopped for a moment...

Was he more of a sweetheart than you remembered?

Maybe...just maybe...you sighed.

Then  you looked at the time.

You stormed through your closet and got dressed, washed up, and then rushed out.

"Wait! You gotta eat

something

!"

You looked at him...

“Yup,” you thought damningly, He really was more of a sweetheart than you remembered.

He pitched an apple toward you. "Thanks, Donny!" You rushed out the door.

"Good luck-" You shut the door as he murmured, "doll..."

You ran all around Boston that day.

You had foolishly scheduled not one, not two, but three interviews back to back.

And halfway home you remembered you were out of milk...

And you decided to pick up some eggs too.

You sighed as you held the brown paper bags, and struggled to get your keys out. They fell to the ground. "Damn!"

You reached for them, just as someone else did.

"Rough day?" Donny got them for you and chuckled as he unlocked the door for you. He happened to just come back from work at the moment.

You both walked into the apartment. You flipped the lights on, he took the bags and set them on the kitchen counter as you took your coat off.

He put the groceries into the fridge, and smiled a little, appreciating that you brought some eggs...because he'd broken a lot of them accidentally that morning.

He was just nervous...Something that wasn't easy for him to admit, or even realize why.

"So, Y/n, how'd it go?" He turned over just as you set your coat onto the rack. And he saw a scar beginning at the right side of your neck, disappearing beneath your collar. You turned to him, but before you could answer, he saw the end of the scar. It ran from the right side of your throat to your left upper arm.

He was genuinely storming in his mind. He knew Boston was a rough town, but you had always been a bit calmer and smarter, and frankly more innocent. He wanted to know who gave you that scar, and who he'd fight for it.

"Where'd ya get that..." His voice was low, his eyes darting from the end of the scar back to your eyes, his brows furrowed.

You shook your head nad waved it off, "Ah, forget it."

"I won't."

The way he said it, you knew he meant it...

And if Donny Donowitz remembered anything, it was the face of every man who ever hurt one of his friends...

You sighed, "The pacific."

"Pacific?" He titled his head in confusion, "I thought you worked in the factory in the war."

"I did. But only for the last year of the war. Before that, I was a WAF." You knew he'd keep asking questions till he got the whole story, so you sat on the couch as you briefly explained, "We got shot down over some islands. I got this..." You gestured to your scar, a crude attempt at murder, and a ticket home the military called honorable discharge, but you called bullshit. Just a few months later,  the WASP program was shut down... "That was that..."

"I didn't know you shipped out..." He sat by you.

You shrugged, "Just a few weeks after you did." He nodded, understanding that was enough war talk for one night. "So...how did it go?" You smiled softly, "I got a job." "Why're you sad?" His lip pouted a little, though he didn't notice...you did... You noticed back in eighth grade, when he liked a girl... 'No...it can't be...I'm imagining things...' You denied everything, to yourself, and to him. "I'm not." He narrowed his eyes. "I've known you since fifth grade, and you're gonna lie to me  right in my face?" You turned your face away from him subtly, but he knew more than what you gave him credit for. He held your chin up gently, and turned your face back to his, "Hey, come on..." It was almost a whisper, but you could hear everything. The sincerity, the worry, the soft beginnings of love. Or at least, something like it. "You can tell me anything, kid." You sighed and leaned your head back onto the couch, "I used to be someone, Don..." Don... No one had called him that in so long. In fact, the last time he could remember someone calling him that was you, about seven years before, when you tutored him for a physics exam. Why he remembered that moment so vividly, he refused to explain to himself... But why he cared so much about it, and why it made him smile, he couldn't deny to himself. "What do you mean?" "I used to be a fucking pilot. I used to be head of my unit in the factory too for fuck's sake. I was top of the goddamn class all my life, and now all I can do is be a fucking secretary." You took a breath, "Now that the boys are home...girls like me have to stay home."

His heart broke in that moment... He could say anything, he could give you a million speeches, but not a word of it would change the truth of the matter. You, like millions of other women were robbed of the bit of humanity and freedom you had been given during war... Still, he tried his best... "Hey...Hey, come here." What possessed you to let yourself fall into his arms, you'd never know. But it didn't matter...because you did... And you fell for him, at last.  "You'll always be someone." "Yeah?"  Your head was in his lap, and you looked up at him. This time...This time he heard the sarcasm. He nodded, "Yeah. Everyone'll always be someone to somebody." What he really meant to say was: You'll always be everything to me... But somehow, after everything he did, every drop of blood he saw, every scalp he took...didn't matter. After all those years, he still couldn't muster up the courage to say it quite yet... "Easy for you to say, you killed fuckin' Hitler." You smirked as you looked up at him. His arms were around you protectively, his hands weaving their way through your hair, and his eyes tender, looking into yours. You'd known him for fifteen years... And you'd never seen his eyes like that before.

He smiled softly, and spoke like he'd been there all along, "You'll always be someone to me, doll..." Your heart skipped a beat, and in that moment, you found yourself in a place you never imagined. Far from war, out of a factory, and in someone's heart. You were home... And your head rested against his chest. The war was over, but there were still things worth fighting for... And from that moment on, it was you and Donny against the world.

Your lips pressed against Donny's in that moment. One of countless to come...

[modreduscycle]

Green Knight Pt. 4

“I’ll see you both before sunset!” Bertilak bade, leaning down to kiss his wife goodbye. Once their lips parted, the lord grabbed Gawain’s hand and kissed it. “And I have not forgotten our game.”

Oh dear sweet lord. Adultery is bad, adultery is bad, and would probably not be made better by committing it with both parties in a marriage. Besides, Bertilak was just being polite and chivalrous. He meant nothing by it. Gawain forced a smile. “Neither have I, although I still don’t think I’ll have anything to give you.”

“We’ll see! Farewell!” With a loud bang and a rush of cold air, the door slammed shut behind him and Gawain was left alone with Ragnelle.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and glanced over to see Ragnelle smiling at him. “Come with me, there’s something I’d like to show you.”

She took his hand and led him into another room of the castle. Inside, the walls were covered with paintings and the furniture was covered in thick furs, many of which were splattered with paint. Easels stood up around the room, canvases upon many of them. There was a shelf in the corner with more canvases, these blank, along with jars of paint. There were also several potted plants, healthy, green, and some in full bloom despite being midwinter. Now that he thought about it, the castle seemed to have as many plants as furs, and they had a lot of furs decorating the place. Even Ragnelle herself always had flowers in her hair.

Ragnelle rubbed the back of her neck. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing, you paint in here?” Gawain asked.

“Obviously. Bertilak sometimes joins me, but I think he gets embarrassed a bit. He doesn’t have as much practice as I do, so there’s a difference in skill,” Ragnelle explained, sinking into a fur-covered couch in front of two easels. Gawain noticed the canvases on them were both blank. Ragnelle picked up a brush and held it between her fingers like a pen. She cast him an alluring look. “Would you like to try your hand at a brush?”

“I haven’t really painted before,” Gawain muttered, trying to fight a blush.

“Then I can teach you, come here,” she bid. He sat down next to her and she angled the nearest easel toward him. “What do you want to paint?”

“I don’t know… Gringolet, maybe?” he suggested, picking up the brush and dipping it into paint.

“Who’s that?” asked Ragnelle.

“Oh, that’s my horse’s name. The one I rode in on.”

“Oh! Him!” Her eyes brightened in sudden understanding. “He’s a nice horse, I went down to the stables to visit him last night. He’s very spirited.”

“Right?” Gawain exclaimed. “Everyone else seems to think he’s a monster or something.”

“I mean, he was trying to bite the stablehand when I walked in, so I do see where they’re coming from,” Ragnelle admitted. She grabbed his hand and helped guide his strokes, sidling closer to him in the process.

“He’s just not a huge fan of men, myself excluded,” Gawain explained. “He has good reason to be, too.” His eyes narrowed. “I almost killed his previous owner because of how he treated him. Gaheris had to stop me.”

“Abusive son of a bitch?” Ragnelle asked. He could feel her hot breath on his neck.

“Yeah. I had to nurse him back to health for months before he was even fit to ride for a short period of time. It took a long time to get him to eat anything other than apples.”

Gawain felt Ragnelle’s hand tighten around his wrist. “Almost wish you did kill his previous owner, or at least caused serious injury.”

“Well… I did sort of hit him…” Gawain muttered. “Gaheris described it as me, ‘bitch-slapping him with my shield.’ He flew about three feet and slammed into the wall. Didn’t put up much of a fight about me taking his horse.”

“Wonder why,” Ragnelle quipped. She fell silent. “I know what it’s like for someone to hurt you like that, but I never had anyone like you to come and save me.”

Gawain stared at her with wide eyes. “Is it Bertilak or…?” He thought he was a pretty good judge of character, and her husband certainly hadn’t set off any alarms, but if he laid a hand on her, they were having words.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Ragnelle quickly denied. “Bertilak has never been anything but kind. I’m not even certain he has it in him to hurt anyone outside of a fight.” She sighed and looked away. “I just didn’t have a great family.”

Gawain bit his lip. “My mother’s pretty awful, too.”

“What’d she do?” Ragnelle asked.

“I know I don’t know everything, but…” He wondered how much he should say. Accusing a queen of such things, regardless of circumstance, was a bit scandalous and probably not something a knight should do, but on the other hand, she was his mother. “Well, my youngest brother was born because she raped someone, just to give you a general picture of the kind of person she is.”

“Oh, wow.” Ragnelle’s eyes widened.

“She always made it perfectly clear her opinions on my siblings and I range from indifference to outright hatred,” Gawain muttered. “She threatened to murder my youngest brother if my aunt didn’t take him and I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure she physically abused one of my other brothers but he clams up everytime I try to ask.”

“My mother is perhaps the only family member who I maybe could stand,” Ragnelle explained. Her brush strokes became furious and harsh. “I say ‘maybe’ because she disappeared when I was a baby. My father remarried and my stepmother is the the biggest bitch I’ve ever known. My half-brother’s a son of a bitch, and that’s an insult against both of them. My father either did nothing or was on their side.” She wrapped her fingers around a strand of hair with several blue flowers in it, even more than there had been a few minutes ago.

“That’s awful…” Gawain muttered. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “They’re awful.”

She smiled over at him. “Yeah, took me a good portion of my life to fully realize it wasn’t me. When I did, I stuck around one more year before running away. I was sixteen.”

“That’s about how old I was when I left for Camelot,” Gawain replied. There was an awkward moment of silence. “So which one of your parents were fey?”

“Huh?” She jerked around and looked at him with eyes wide.

“Your flowers,” Gawain pointed to his own hair. “It’s a trait of nature fey, right? Plants growing in your hair.”

She stared at him for a few more seconds. “...both of them, actually. My stepmother is human, though.”

“I’m only a… I think it’s sixteenth myself? My grandfather was a fourth light fey,” Gawain mused. “So basically it’s barely worth mentioning.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard, I just didn’t know you were still familiar with the fey,” Ragnelle replied.

“My aunt is Morgana le Fay and I live in Camelot, how could I not be— wait, where did you hear that?” he asked suspiciously.

Her eyes widened, like she’d been caught at something. “I… well, you’re not exactly an unknown knight, Sir Gawain of Orkney.”

“So my reputation proceeds me,” he muttered.

“Parts of it, yes, but reputations and people are two different things. Just take it for granted that I might know a few more things about you than you do about me,” she explained.

“Being in the limelight sucks,” mumbled Gawain.

Ragnelle sighed and wrapped her arm around his neck, making eye contact. “I’m sure it does, but you know what?”

“W- what?”

“You’re so much better in person than any stories of your heroic deeds could ever make you out to be.” Before he even realized what was happening, she closed the short distance between them and kissed him. He couldn’t stop himself before he kissed back.

She was the first to pull away, smiling shyly afterward. Gawain knew his face was beet red, and he was trying to quell both the smile on his face and the giddiness he was feeling. “That… that shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s fine, Gawain.”

“No, you’re a married woman and I—”

“Don’t want to commit adultery, I understand.”

“I… oh God, do I tell Bertilak?”

“You can, he’ll understand.”

“Will he?!”

Ragnelle rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

He stared at her. “Really?”

With a sigh, Ragnelle pushed a strand of red hair out of her face. “I know my husband better than you do. Trust me, he would not have a problem if we did it right here on the couch.”

“I feel like you’re screwing with me. Also, no!” Gawain added, objecting to the suggestion. He ran his fingers through his hair. “What do I do?”

She glanced over at him. “You know, you got that kiss.”

“I noticed that, what do you…” His eyes widened. “Wait… are you telling me to…”

“It’s a good way to tell him,” Ragnelle replied with a grin.

“It’s also a good way to get stabbed.”

“He won’t stab you.”

Gawain fell silent and thought for a moment. “Well, I’ll be dead soon anyway, what’s a few days earlier?”

“That’s not the spirit, but I’ll take it.”

They spent the rest of the day painting. Gawain’s didn’t turn out great, even with Ragnelle’s help, but he was proud of it. Ragnelle argued since he made it and didn’t receive it that it didn’t count by the rules of the bet, but he still gave it to her as a gift. After all, what use did he have for it?

When Bertilak arrived back, Gawain internally screamed while the large man took his coat and armor off. This was a bad idea, all previous experience told him this was a very, very bad idea. But it also tempted him, and he made a promise…

His thoughts were broken off when Bertilak clapped his shoulder and pointed to the game, laid out on a table. “That’s all yours. Is there any you want the cooks to serve for dinner tonight?”

“U- um, the boar looks pretty good,” Gawain stuttered, a little distracted.

“Excellent!” Bertilak boomed. “I thought so too! Now, do you have anything for me?”

“Actually, yes,” Gawain admitted. Before he could change his mind or lose his nerve, he got up on his tiptoes and pulled Bertilak into a deep kiss. The man really had a nice beard, he had to admit. It wasn’t scratchy, just soft and fluffy. If it wasn’t for the fact that this was bordering on adultery, he would have kept going but instead he broke away after a few seconds. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ragnelle hiding a smile while Bertilak looked pleasantly surprised.

“...and I thought I got the better catch today,” he muttered. “You are a very good kisser.”

“I’ve had some practice,” Gawain muttered.

“I’m sure you have,” Bertilak agreed, blushing. “Oh, and I know we can’t exactly request things from the other person, but if you’d like to get that again tomorrow from wherever you received it, I’d be most grateful.”

…there was no way they were both flirting with him. No way. He was either in heaven or hell right now and he didn’t know which one.

[blackmissfrizzle]

A Match Made in Hell

Title: A Match Made in Hell

Summary: The reader has been having some anger issues lately and decides to take a trip. Her trip lands her in the bar where Demon Dean is hanging at and trouble ensues.

Pairing: demon!dean x black!reader, Crowley

Word Count: 2113

Warnings: Light smut (18+), Violence, a little racism and body shaming

A/N: I’m so glad to get back to writing a Supernatural fic. I got another one plan and hopefully I can get it out soon.

A/N: This is for all my black girls who love Supernatural but don’t get the chance to see themselves in the show or in the fandom.

Dean and Crowley were taking body shots of whiskey from the blonde bartender when Crowley first noticed you. “Oh, bloody hell! Its time to go, the She-Devil is here,” Crowley complained.

Dean lifted his head from the bartender’s toned stomach to find you. His eyes searched the room until he followed Crowley’s finger and you were finally in his eyesight. This was the first time he saw you since he became a demon. The last time you were together was right after he got the mark and you coincidentally ran into him while checking up on Garth.

He was mesmerized by the way you looked. You walked with a gracefulness that was curated by your privileged upbringing and years of ballet training. Despite the lighting in the bar you were beautiful, although he preferred looking at you in the sun, because he loved how the light shined on your brown skin.

However, there was something different about you tonight. It wasn’t your appearance; it was your demeanor. One of the things Dean loved about you was, regardless of all the bad shit that happened to you, you always remained sweet, open, and kind. So, when Dean saw you looking closed off and highly irritable, he knew something was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

“No, I’m staying. Something’s off with Y/N,” Dean said.

“Are you serious right now, Dean,” Crowley screeched. He pulled Dean to the side trying to convince him to leave, “I don’t know about you, but I am in not in the mood to get murdered by that half-breed.”

Dean snarled at Crowley and backed him into a corner, “Call her half-breed again and you won’t like what happens next.”

Crowley raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. No calling your ex-girlfriend a half-breed. But how do you know she’s not here to help Sam bring you back home?”

“Because, I know how she looks when she’s hurting versus how she looks when she pissed off or worry. Trust me, Sam wouldn’t call her. We made a pact to keep her out of hunting and Sam’s too much of a wuss to bring her back in just for me,” Dean attempted to calm Crowley.

“I still don’t like being near her,” Crowley professed in a bratty manner.

“I don’t care,” Dean bellowed out. “And by the way, don’t bother coming back to the room, me and Y/N will be busy.”

Crowley shuddered in disgust and then teleported out of the bar. Now Dean could focus on you.

You don’t know why you stopped at this dive bar. Something just pulled you towards it. Honestly, you rather be home snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms, but you couldn’t do that. For the past couple of weeks your powers been out of wonk and you were unable to control them, also you found yourself with a short temper. The last straw was when you were in a meeting with your board members and your brother had to ‘accidently’ spill water on your hands to stop you from throwing a fireball at one of the board members.

Now here you were in some podunk ass town with no clue on what to do and not feeling any better. You felt someone sit in the seat next to you and the lean towards you, putting their hand on your thigh. This had to be the boldest attempt since you got there, and you were tired of this shit.

“No, I don’t want you to buy me a drink and if you don’t remove your hand from my thigh in  the next 10 seconds you’re gonna have to learn how to jerk off with your left hand,” you lowly threatened the intruder.

He didn’t remove his hand and laughed instead, “Aren’t I lucky I can do it with both hands?”

You tensed up at that laugh and voice. It belonged to the one person who broke your heart. You swiveled your bar stool to confirm it was Dean Winchester and you were right. His hair was different; it was longer and combed over to the side, but he still looked attractive. There was something off about him, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

He raised his beer, “Day drinking, you?”

“Running away from my problems,” you confessed. You turned your head in search of his brother, “Where’s Sam?”

Dean took another long sip of his beer before he answered, and you were entranced by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed while he drank. He smacked his lips that were glistening from the beer and sighed, “Me and Sam decided to take a little break.”

Automatically you accused Dean, “What did you do?” You knew it was a crap thing to accuse him so rashly, but every time Sam and Dean separate its because Dean was either too pissed at Sam and wants to get away from him or Dean did something to piss Sam off and Sam was the one to leave.

“Why does it have to be my fault,” Dean asked as his voice got higher since he was offended that you judged him so quickly.’’

“Because it always is,” you doubled down.

Dean licked his lips and observed you, “Forget about me and Sam. What are you running from?” You were fiddling with the edge of your jacket, which Dean knew it was your tell of being nervous.

You bit your lip and had an internal debate on whether you wanted to confide in Dean. Since you had no one to talk to you informed Dean of the changes that occurred lately. You let him know about the incident at your board meeting and the time you unjustly snapped at your boyfriend when he asked if you were cooking dinner.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the mention of your boyfriend. “Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. We decided to take a break, because I’ve been so damn moody,” you rambled as you messed with the zipper of your jacket.

“Well, since you’re on a break. How about you and me go to my room and alleviate some of all that pent-up anger you got, sweetheart?” Dean seductively growled in your ear.

For some time, you stared at Dean. This was your chance to finally have sex with Dean Winchester with no strings attached. Even though, the two you dated for almost a year, you never had sex because you were a virgin and you were trying to wait for marriage. You decided not to wait for Dean, but it was too late because he cheated on you with that damn angel, Anna and your relationship was never the same after that.

You kissed Dean on those plump lips of his instead of using your words to tell him yes. He grabbed your hand and slammed down two twenty-dollar bills to take care of both of yours tabs, and was pulling you through the crowded bar.

Almost out the door you felt a tug on your bicep, it was the bartender who let Dean take a body shot off of her. “You sure you can handle that sweetie? We all know its gonna be a pity fuck, because why would he ever want to be with someone as dark and big as you,” she sneered.

Typically, those comments would get her a classy comeback, because your mama raised you better than that, but in the recent weeks it seems you forgotten what she taught you, and you punched the buxom blonde in the face instead, effectively knocking her out.

You should have known better than to do that in this hick town, because now you had rednecks surrounding you and Dean, trying to protect the ‘innocent’ white woman. He smirked at you and the two of you began to fight the crowd. You broke a pool cue in half and fought off some attackers while Dean was punching and flying his victims across the room. At one point in the fight you thought Dean’s eyes turned black like a demon, but you dismissed it as the blur of the fight.

Within ten minutes everyone in the bar was either incapacitated or they ran away. Still feeling the high from the bar brawl, you and Dean were tearing each other’s clothes off once you got to his motel room.  When you were naked, Dean had done this inexplicable thing with his tongue while he was eating you out that it caused you to levitate both of you off the bed when you reached your orgasm.

Dean was pounding into you, balls slapping against you when your demon eyes came to the forefront. You instantly covered your face and murmured an apology to Dean. He pulled your hands from your face and tried to assure you, “Its alright, I got a pair of my own,” Dean’s normally green eyes transformed into demon eyes.

You weren’t tripping earlier; you did see Dean’s eyes turn black during the brawl. Surprised at this revelation you twisted your body so that you were on top and grabbed your knife and put it to Dean’s neck. Just as quickly you pulled your knife to his neck, Dean put a strange blade seemingly made of teeth and bone to your neck.

“Uh uh, sweetheart. You don’t wanna do that,” the demon cautioned you.

“How the hell you get into Dean,” you asked as you pressed the knife harder into Dean’s neck.

Getting tired of being in a vulnerable position, Dean rolled your bodies so that he was on top now. He had to admit that you were sexy right now. Your hair splayed across his pillows, breasts uncovered wit puckered nipples, and the anger that caused your eyes to heat up with more passion.

He leaned down and licked the shell of your ear and whispered into it, “Oh honey. This is all Dean, there’s no demon riding me. Remember the Mark of Cain. Well, it turned me into a demon when I died.”

You thrashed under him and screamed “Impossible! You’re a lying piece of shit!”

“Lying, nope. Piece of shit, yes.” A new voice entered your conversation. It belongs to your father. You peered over Dean’s shoulder to see Crowley and your dad standing behind you.

Dean got off of you and threw his shirt at you, indicating that you get dress. At least he was still thoughtful. “Crowley, I thought I told you not to come back here!” Dean bellowed at his new best friend.

Strictly looking Dean in the eyes until he put on some pants, Crowley answered, “I wasn’t. I went back to the bar for another round when I saw the fiasco you and your girlfriend made. So, I went to her dad for help and guess what he told me?”

Both you and Dean grunted at the same time, “What?”

Crowley stared at the two of you before he continued, “That dear old Y/N has been acting more aggressively and unable to control her powers at the same time you died and were reborn as a demon.”

You ran your hands through your hair, “And how does that all connect,” you snapped at the King of Hell.

“You remember when Dean got out of the pit and you started to share his nightmares about his time there,” your dad asked, speaking for the first time since he announced his presence.

Clearly exasperated with this long explanation, you questioned your mother’s killer, “Yeah, but what does that have to do with this?”

“Its similar to this. Its obvious I’m no cupid, but we believe you and Dean are soulmates,” your dad explained.

“Soulmates!?” You and Dean echoed. It was so absurd that you two doubled over in laughter.

Crowley waited until you two were done laughing before he began his line of questioning. “Did you two feel a peacefulness overcome you once you got near each other?” Uncomfortable silence. “When you fought together did everything feel just right, as the universe was steady?” Uncomfortable silence. “When you got to this room was the sexual attraction through the roof?” Uncomfortable silence. “Did either one of you had the intention of going through stabbing the other one when you had the knives pressed against the other’s neck?” Again uncomfortable silence.

You stood there and pondered everything Crowley and your father just said. You came to the conclusion that Dean is your soulmate and right now he was a fucking demon and your demon half was dangerously attracted him. Great, you two were the perfect match made in hell.

TAGLIST: @meishaabae @dannixchristian @cosmicmelaninflower @mml232 @1000roughdrafts @httpchxcxlateapple @eidetic-spencerreid @blacknthemix @stu-recs @forgetthisbull @blackdepressoexpresso @titty-teetee

[hoodie-lover]

My Multiverse Part 23

Dream looked at his brother, his unmoving form, blank eye, and stiff posture. Memories of the two fighting, that same blank out, came back. He had never noticed, or maybe Ink made him not, he didn’t care. But he pressed his hand to his brother’s cheek, and Nightmare’s eye sparked to life. Dream gave him a kind smile, to which his brother returned. 

“Hey Nighty.” Dream said, watching Nightmare’s corruption melt away. 

“Hey Dreamy.” Nightmare said, giving Dream a wayward grin. 

Dream grabbed Nightmare’s hands and lead him to Dream’s room, right across the hall from where Nightmare, Fresh, and Cross were held.

“What do you want to do Nighty?” Dream asked, flopping down on his bed.

“Hang out with you Dreamy.” Nightmare said, his wayward smile still plastered on his face.

“You always want to hang out Nighty. But I guess we can go to the movies.” Dream said, and Nightmare perked up.

“Yes! That sounds awesome!” Nightmare was jumping up and down like an excited toddler, something he always did before the villagers came.

“I think there’s a new horror movie out so-” Dream began but was interrupted by a starry eyes Nightmare.

“Horror movie now!” Nightmare demanded, causing Dream to chuckle. 

“Ok.” And with that Dream opened a portal and the two brother jumped in.

Dream worked a bit of magic so no one would be suspicious, and the two marched in the theatre. It was crowded, noisy, and the smell of artificial and overpriced butter popcorn permeated the air. The two short skeletons had to climb on top of each other’s shoulders to see the menu, even then they had difficulty seeing the food options. 

But with sheer luck Nightmare didn’t drop Dream and they decided on a large popcorn, two cokes, and M&Ms. Though Nightmare didn’t care much for sweets, he did cave in for his brother. As he often did before the apple incident. When Dream caught a glimpse at the poster he was surprised such an image was allowed in a public theatre, while Nightmare looked unenthused. 

“That’s the best they could do? Seriously that’s so stupid.” Nightmare told Dream, who looked ready to complain to the manager. 

“The movie’s going to start soon, we need to get a seat.” Nightmare said, sensing his brother’s discomfort.

“Alright.” Dream admitted, sighing. 

The two brothers walked down the long hallway to their theatre, and sat down in the front row, so their height wouldn’t be an issue if someone decided to sit in front of them. Though they soon encountered a bigger issue, though no one recognized Dream and Nightmare as the guardians of positivity and negativity, they were still monsters, in a largely human city. 

“What are you doing here?” A man asked, glaring at the two brothers.

“Waiting for the movie to start.” Nightmare replied, returning the glare.

“This is a human city and a human movie theatre, get out.” He said, and Nightmare have an eye roll as he stood up, Dream watching closely.

“I didn’t see anything prohibiting monsters from entering, so why should I leave?” Nightmare asked innocently, his voice high pitches and whiney.

“Because you’re monsters.” The man said, bluntly and without emotion.

“And your an asshole.” Nightmare said, sitting down.

Dream was holding back laughter, his brother was awesome. Nightmare smirked at Dream and took a large handful of popcorn, eating it all in front of the guy.

In a huff he stormed out of the theatre and the two brothers had a laugh. Dream had missed the snark and sass of his brother, and he felt ashamed that he hadn’t picked up on its slow fade from his brother’s personality. But that was in the past, this was now 

The movie had begun and both skeletons were at the edge of their seats, waiting for the first scene. It would be their first movie together, and Dream vowed to make sure it wasn’t the last. 

“AHH!” Dream screamed, they were a quarter of the way through the movie, and Dream was already on edge. 

“Dream, that wasn’t a jumpscare.” Nightmare told his twin. He was met with a glare. 

“It was still scary.” Dream muttered, turning his eyes to the screen, pouting.

Nightmare chuckled and continued to watch the movie, occasionally scaring Dream in between the scares. Dream was not enthused at Nightmare’s games, it was the rude reminder that he was a troll and a jerk. But Nightmare was having fun, so Dream could manage. 

When the movie was over, Nightmare had eaten all the food, even the M&Ms, out of sheer boredom and Dream was looking over at Nightmare, resisting the urge to hug him out of fear. Most people would not expect the guardian of positivity to be scared of a horror movie, but most of the time, when he and Nightmare were fighting, Nightmare never really resorted to scares, just emotional manipulation and maiming. 

“I see horror movies aren’t your thing.” Nightmare teased as the twins left the theatre. 

“Shut up!” Dream cried out, crossing his arms and looking away. 

“I’ll file that information away for later~.” Nightmare said as Dream snapped his head towards his brother, embarrassment burning in his eyes. 

Nightmare chuckled as Dream opened a portal to the Pale AU. The two walked in and greeted Ink as if nothing was wrong, as if Nightmare wasn’t brainwashed into thinking he was a close and old friend. 

“Hey.” Ink said, clearly out of it. 

“What’s wrong Ink?” Dream asked, giving Ink a surprise hug from the back. 

“Classic’s being difficult. It’s been a few days since you left, and he still hasn’t relented.” Ink whispered, taking note of Nightmare oblivious concern. 

“No need to whisper. Right Nighty?” Dream asked, and Nightmare nodded blankly. 

“Can I help?” Nightmare asked, and with an evil grin from Dream, Nightmare went down to the basement, drops of corrupted goo shadowing his steps. 

“How about you take a long break Ink?” Dream asked, putting his hands under Ink’s shirt and caressing his ribs. 

“Dream~.” Ink said, his eyes turning to bright pink hearts. 

“Relax Inky.” Dream said, unleashing his aura with no mercy, Ink’s legs gave way and Dream almost dropped him, as Ink was much heavier than he looks. 

In the basement, Classic was hyperventilating. He had very little food, water, and was starved for social interaction. But he quickly abandoned all sense hunger, thirst, and loneliness when he saw Nightmare come down the stairs. 

“What do you want?! What are you doing here?!” Classic screamed out of sheer fear. 

“Helping out my friend, Ink.” Nightmare replied, placing a hand down on Classic’s skull with authority. 

“Friend?! What are you taaAAAHH!” Classic tried to say but was interrupted by flashes of genocide, murders of Papurus, and memories of his own previous torture. 

“Make it stop!” Classic screamed, crying his eyes out. 

“Submit. Relax. Sleep. You want to, it’s the only way to stop it.” Nightmare coaxed, his corruption getting thicker with every word. 

“No...” Classic muttered, struggling. 

“Fine.” Nightmare said, taking his hand off Classic’s skull and heading upstairs. 

There he saw Dream and Ink on top of eachother on the floor, and their clothes practically ripped off. 

“NOPE!” Nightmare cried out, running upstairs praying he could find some brain bleach or something of the sort. 

Characters belong to their respective owners

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[halfbloodlycan]

The Sorceress’ Murderous Companion: Chapter 2

Tag List

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@startledserpent @thatwriternamedvolk @formallyfreya @christophercant @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @random-with-garlic @starsprinkledwaters @infinitebadashianqueen @plsfeedthewriter @kevindamenauthor @benvolio-writes @starlitesymphony @renee561   @enasroterfaden @focusdumbass @nerocael @cawolters

As usual, let me know if you want to be added to the list or taken off. And if tags aren’t working, someone please let me know. There might be some blood in this chapter, and horror and sadness. 

Chapter 2: Escort

Kali took a bite out of a juicy, green apple with one hand, while the other gently boiled a pot of water.

Her traveling partner, Sophie, scowled. “Must you eat the ingredients?”

Kali glanced over at the barrel full of ripe apples and grinned. “I won’t eat the whole barrel, I promise.” She took her hand from the pot and stood up to take a look outside. The caravan was dimly lit, with only a couple of specks for windows, and she was craving the sun after only [a day]* of travel. She drew back the curtain that covered one of the doors to watch the passing trees. The same trees that surrounded their home of Sylvan Hollow. It was a little tiring to see the same trees. Comforting, but boring.

“Soph, you told me traveling would be fun. Everything here looks the same as it does back home,” Kali pouted.

Sophie set down the ugly carving knife she was using to chop apples, “Changes aren’t immediate. We’re not that far from home. Trust me, in a little bit you’ll start to see different kinds of trees. You know those blue pines I told you about? There’ll be more of those, and the terrain gets a little rockier too if I remember correctly.” Sophie covered the pot of boiling apples, spices, and ram’s meat, and stood to accompany Kali by the window. “Did you tell me you’d visited Catherine before? How can you not remember anything?”

Kali shook her head. “I slept through most of it.”

“Well, you’re not sleeping through it this time, I’ll make sure of that. Oh!” Sophie’s smile blossomed with excitement. “We should make a stop before town. There’s this beautiful stretch of the road, you’d love it.”

“You think our escorts would let us? Shoot, what were their names again? I’m so bad with names.” Kali leaned back against the wall between them and the driver’s seat.

“Our driver is Pam. She’s supposed to be the best. And the escorts were,” She stopped to think. “Roland and Thorn. And you’re not bad with names Miss Fire Hands, I just almost forgot them too. They didn’t make too much of an impression to be honest.”

The caravan bobbed up and down as the wheels ran over rocks and bumps in the road. Sophie clung to Kali for a moment until the rocking stopped. “It’s funny,” Sophie continued. “I travel all the time, and usually I get Roslyn, and sometimes Jupe. Now they’re memorable. Ros always makes me laugh, and Jupe just has this way of making any trip more exciting.”

“Oh, well I wish we had gotten them instead.” Kali slid to the floor. One of the escorts had looked her over for an uncomfortably long time before they left, but Sophie had gone through the trouble of paying for the trip and Kali didn’t want to complain about it.

“Next time, I’ll request one or both of them. Pam is good, but Roland and Thorn don’t seem very sociable. It’s unnerving.” Sophie shivered and rubbed her arms. “Aren’t you cold in that skirt? Thigh highs are nice and all, but not exactly warm enough for the weather we’ve been having.” She went over to the kettle to check on the food and give it a stir.

Kali was cold, but she hadn’t wanted to admit Sophie was right. She had warned her to wear something both comfortable and practical. Her boots were practical, she could walk or run in them if she had to. Kali pulled the skirt fringe down just a little, and hiked her socks up her thighs. “Not that cold.”

“I think some salt-stained pants would suit you. They’d certainly be more comfortable,” Sophie pulled on a loose thread at the cutoff of her capris. “Can you heat up the pot one more time? I think the food needs to boil a little longer.”

Kali scooched* herself closer to the pot and set a hand on it. It was warm to the touch, but not hot. Kali let her hand heat up until she was holding a small fire to the iron. “How long is the trip normally?” She asked.

“About three days”* Three days of jolting nausea. Kali would need a break from it all soon.

Sophie seemed to read her mind, or notice the pained look on her face, because she took a spoonful of spiced meat and apples and held it up to Kali. “Try this before you get sick. The spices in it should help with your nausea.”

Kali took the hot mouthful and chewed. As soon as the warm mix of spiced apples and meat entered her throat, she felt better. Sophie was definitely the flavor and health queen when it came to cooking. How would she have survived the trip without Sophie? Kali couldn’t imagine.

She was grabbing another spoonful when the caravan stopped and everything jerked forward. Meat and apple chunks flew everywhere. Kali barely caught the pot before it could spill. “I thought you said Pam was the best driver?” Kali said bitterly, putting the kettle down once they were stopped.

“That happens sometimes,” Sophie assured her. “If an animal suddenly spooks the rams, or they need to take a break. It’s most likely the latter. Stopping rams isn’t always the smoothest.”

“Aren’t there new wagons that are powered by steam now? Would that have been any smoother?” Kali asked, picking bits of meat and apples off the floor and chucking them into the road.

“Yes, but those are expensive. I didn’t think we needed something like that. They cost almost double because it’s the same amount of workers, but they increase the price for maintenance or something.” Sophie shook her head, “It’s not worth it for such a short trip.”

They waited for a few minutes before getting out. Stretching and fresh air wasn’t a bad idea after being stuck in there for hours. Their shoes kicked up dust as their feet hit the ground. The air was dry, the ground was dry, and the breeze was cool on bare skin. Kali ran her fingers along the thin, white scars on her arm that stood out against her tawny skin as little reminders. Reminders to limit how often she used her magic on living creatures. There were a couple on her face she could barely feel anymore. The first scars she’d gotten when she’d been alone at night practicing her fire magic.

“It’s been too long,” Sophie claimed, snapping Kali out of her head. “I’m gonna go check on them and make sure everything is okay.”

Kali trailed behind her. The rams were calm, they didn’t startle easily. Pam was nowhere to be seen. When they turned to check the front of the wagon, Roland was there very suddenly*.

“Is something wrong?” He snapped*. “You didn’t need to get out, we’re just taking a quick break.”

“A quick break?” Sophie seemed agitated, “We’re allowed to take a breather too, we’ve been sitting in there for hours, sweltering.”

Kali put a hand on her shoulder. Was Sophie complaining for her? And here Kali had thought she was doing a good job pretending not to be uncomfortable.

Roland fidgeted nervously. “Look, I don’t want to be here almost as much as you, so kindly get back in the caravan. We’ll leave soon, I promise.”

Kali frowned, “What? What does that-” Sophie cut her off, “Thank you,” She replied with a sudden change in tone. “We’ll do just that.” She forced a smile and put an arm around Kali’s shoulders to pull her away.

When they were out of sight, Kali whirled on her, “What was that? He acted like a complete jerk. I am not going back in there until he apologizes-”

Sophie put a finger to her lips and Kali went quiet. Her eyes were wide, serious, scared.

“What?” Kali lowered her voice. Sophie motioned to the ground, behind the wagon wheel. A quick glance was all it took for Kali to realize why Sophie was spooked. The remainder of a hand was just barely visible between the spokes as though someone hastily threw the remains underneath without a second thought.

A small amount of blood trailed in the dirt, barely perceptible unless you were looking for it. Kali hesitated. She didn’t want to know who was under their wagon, but it could mean life or death.

Pam’s tight, brown curls gave her away. Her face was twisted into confusion. Furrowed brows, pursed lips, like she couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Do you think it was Roland? He looked nervous as Void*.” Kali let the heat flow to her hands, just short of turning into flames. “We should catch him off guard. Make sure he doesn’t sneak up on us.” Kali kept her back to the wagon and watched Sophie out of the corner of her eye.

“We should find Thorn,” Sophie whispered. “We don’t know what happened to him.”

The sound of Roland, screaming, came from some distance into the forest, and was cut short.

“What the fuck is he doing in the forest? He said we were leaving soon.” Kali let the flames travel up her arms as far as she could manage and ran after him.

Sophie’s footsteps followed behind her closely. They stopped abruptly in a clearing. Roland’s body was a mutilated mess. A hole left where his heart should’ve been. Pinned to a tree by a particularly vicious branch. Kali felt the nausea overtake her body, she fell to her knees and threw up.

Sophie, whose stomach must’ve been iron, pulled Kali to her feet and away. “We have to go. It doesn’t matter where, but we can’t stay here.”

A creak and a groan behind them sounded like the trees were moving, coming to life or becoming sentient. Branches unfurled to stop them, and only Sophie’s quick reflexes saved them from getting ensnared. Kali wished she had taken up Sophie’s offer for daily runs around Sylvan Hollow. It would’ve prepared her for the forest, if not entirely for murderous trees. They ducked and weaved until they were on the road again. They passed the caravan and ducked out of sight, back into the woods. They took shelter behind an outcrop of rocks and waited.

“So,” Kali started out of breath, “It wasn’t Roland. Do you think he knew? That he saw something on the road and got nervous for us when we were outside?”

Sophie took a deep breath. “Maybe, but I’ve never seen trees act like that. It’s unnatural.”

“It could be magic,” Kali reasoned. “The sylvans give our people all sorts of magic, so maybe-”

“Are you suggesting someone we know is trying to kill us?” Sophie scolded. “This isn’t someone from Sylvan Hollow, they’d never use their magic like this. Least of all against us. Even if we were rivaling them for something, they wouldn’t murder in cold blood. The driver, the escort, no one in Sylvan Hollow would ever abuse their magic like that. They’d never murder someone.”

Sophie was right. Even as she tried to scrub her memory of that terrible image, it was still there like a ghost. Pam’s fingers had reached for the spokes of the wheel with desperation. Roland’s face was a look of pure terror. Kali shook her head, she wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening.

Sophie pulled her out of it. All Kali could hear was the sound of footsteps louder than they should’ve been. Closer and closer as Sophie grabbed the front of Kali’s shirt and pulled her forward. Sophie screamed her name. Kali’s eyes were blurred with tears as she sprang forward to catch up.

They dove under branches, leapt over rocks. Once or twice Kali stumbled and fell. Her knees were bloody and scratched [to hell]*. The palms of her hands slipped in the dirt and leaves as she pushed herself up.

Her skirt got caught and torn in low branches that grabbed at their ankles. Kali swore to herself. Why didn’t she listen to Sophie? Why had she decided to be lazy with her outfit this one time? It wasn’t just the one time, it was all the time, and Sophie always ended up being right. Momentum kept her going.

Kali had to let herself fall back onto her butt just to keep her from running into a cabin wall.

Sophie helped her up, and for a moment everything was eerily quiet. The trees had stopped attacking them. No birds or animals flapped their wings or made a sound. Sophie clutched at her heart, gasping for breath. “We can’t stand here for too long. There’s no telling who or what is after us.”

Kali peeked around the corner to the door. It looked fairly cobweb free. She gestured Sophie to follow her and they went over to the door. Kali knocked, “Hello?” She said. “Anyone home? We need help.”

She knocked a little harder, and the door opened just a little on its own. She pushed the door open. “We can explain to the owner if they come back,” She decided. They quickly closed the door and glanced around. There was a pile of taxidermy animal heads on the floor, a bear skin covered a section of the floor like a rug. It was a hunter’s paradise. It was also disgusting. A few large cages were set up along one wall, no doubt to hold captured prey.

Kali was beginning to feel uncomfortable, when Sophie ran at the back door to try to hold it closed. “Kali, help me!” She screamed as someone tried to enter the cabin. “It’s Thorn, our escort, he’s still alive.”

Okay, Kali thought. Then why are we...the realization hit her. Thorn had killed Pam and Roland and he was coming back to finish the job. Kali let her hands heat up, without the obvious burst of flame. She would have to use it sparingly, lest she receive more retaliation burns.

The door was slightly ajar, and a hand grasped at the edge, trying to gain some leverage. Ochre skin turned a deep green as his arm extended and clawed into a vine.

Sophie pulled something from her boot, the ugly carving knife she’d been making food with earlier, and slashed at Thorn’s hand. There was a cry of pain as the arm retreated and the door shut.

The other door opened, and neither Kali nor Sophie had time to react. A shorter young man with a similar complexion looked at them nervously, his eyes downcast. He glanced back at the door and said, “You’re kinda trespassing. Do you mind putting your weapons down for a minute?”

When Kali kept her glowing hands, and Sophie her knife, the young man changed tactics. He moved away from the door and toward the staircase around them. He was almost to the stairs when the door burst open, and Thorn stood there, glaring at him. “Oh brother,” He began with a falsely sweet tone, “When were you planning on doing what we talked about?”

The young man on the stairs froze. He looked between them and Thorn and bit his bottom lip. Vines growing in the cracks of the walls sprung to life with unnatural fervor. They caught Sophie’s hands, forcing her to drop the knife. They caught Kali off guard, and shoved her into one of the cages before she could use her flames to burn through them.

Kali stared hopelessly as she was forced into the cage.

Sophie struggled in the plants that tangled her more and more until she couldn’t do anything but scream.

Thorn walked over and picked up the knife. “This isn’t even a good knife,” He stated, turning it over in his hands. He crouched down to her and sliced the tip of the knife across her cheek until she bled. “That’s just for cutting me. For making things difficult, I’m thinking something else. I am a little hungry.”

Kali felt the fire spreading through her, as she intended to use every ounce of magic to get out. If she had to burn herself up just to get rid of this [bastard]* she would. A shock rippled through her body as cold water was poured over her. She shivered, her fire immediately turning the water to steam and evaporating in the air around her. She clawed at the bars, “Let her go!” She screamed.

“Spike,” Thorn started. “I think you’ve done enough for today. You look like you’re gonna pass out. Go upstairs.”

The quiet man named Spike caught Kali’s eye for a brief moment. He even looked a little sad. He scurried up the stairs after a moment, before Thorn could notice.

Thorn pulled on Sophie’s bonds until they were in front of Kali’s cage. “Would you like to say goodbye? I’m feeling generous, today.”

Kali’s hand slid through the bars, she could just barely reach Sophie’s own reaching fingers. They were allowed to linger there for a minute, before Thorn stood up and pulled Sophie up with him.

“Well, that’s enough time I think. I need a bit of a run before I can eat.” He walked Sophie to the door and opened it. “You run, I’ll even give you a head start.” He nudged Sophie out the door.”

“K-Kali,” Sophie stared, eyes wide, at the caged, soaked Kali.

“If you stand there, this won’t be much fun,” Thorn growled impatiently. “Or did you want the witch to watch you bleed out?”

Sophie glared at him, and took one, sad look back at Kali before she darted into the woods.

Thorn watched her for a few, long minutes.

Kali knew she wasn’t coming back.

Spike returned downstairs a little bit after Thorn left. He kept glancing at her with that same sad expression. He dug through cabinets, throwing some kind of food, and a sack full of water into a pack which he meticulously hid under the sink.

Thorn came back in, dressed in blood and what Kali assumed were Sophie’s guts. She fought back the urge to vomit in her cage, lest she be stuck with it.

“If the witch tries to turn into fire again, make sure you soak her,” Thorn said. He was hauling a bleeding sack behind him, and Kali’s stomach couldn’t handle it. She felt the cold shock of water across her skin once more, and her vomit sloughed across the floor, and into a trench drain along the walls she hadn’t noticed earlier. But judging by the stained floor, she knew why it was there.

“We’ll leave with her tomorrow. Our goal is to meet up with Trev and Moloch in Alden Town first, then move onward to The Capital. Sahara will meet with us later. They’re co-workers threatened by Catherine’s plans as well.” Thorn dumped the contents of the bag on the table and began dividing it into parts. He wrapped each part in a [burlap]* wrap and thrust it into a freezer. “Is anyone expecting you in town, Miss Loveless?” He asked Kali. He thought he knew the answer but just to be sure...

Kali winced at each downward thrust of the knife into flesh and bone. She hadn’t told anyone in town about her trip. Catherine was the only one in Alden town she knew at all, but she wouldn’t be expecting Kali for days or weeks later if their last conversation was any indication. They had left off on a sour note, and Kali insisted on keeping it a secret when Sophie asked her about it. It was supposed to be a surprise. Kali wondered if there was any benefit to lying. He was going to use her to get to her sister. And probably kill her after.

The knife clattered hard against the countertop. “You’re taking too long to answer,” He pulled the knife out of the body and wiped the blood on an old piece of cloth. “Don’t tell me even your sister doesn’t know you’re coming?”

Something in her face gave her away. Kali was sure of it. Thorn smiled knowingly and tossed her a bloody arm. “You can heat that up if you want. I’m afraid we don’t have much in the way of human appropriate food.” He grinned. His teeth were bloody, “Better get some rest.” He stopped just shy of the stairs. “Oh, one more thing.” Thorn crouched beside her cage and held out a hand. “Give me your arm.”

Kali moved as far inside the cage as she could manage.

Thorn rolled his eyes and reached in to grab her. He traced a fingernail along the inside of her arm until he drew a little blood with a pinch. Then he let go.

Kali rubbed her arm, “What did you do?”

“Nothing you need to worry about yet. If it becomes relevant, maybe I’ll tell you.”

The room was dark and quiet. She was still shivering, and almost dry enough to finally heat up her clothes and warm her body. She looked at the piece of bloody meat on the floor beside her. She was hungry, but not that hungry. She curled up tightly against the bars and tried to close her eyes.

Floorboards creaked nearby, and she opened her eyes panicked. Kali expected more freezing water to douse her again. For Thorn to say it was already time to go when she hadn’t gotten any sleep.

It was Spike, crouched down to her level and just far enough away to be out of arms length. He looked back up the stairs nervously, then held up a finger to his lips to be quiet.

He clearly wasn’t supposed to be down here. “I want to ask you about something,” He whispered. The nerve. Was he planning to interrogate her now? With his brother upstairs sleeping? This was a trick. It had to be a trick. She was tempted to start talking loudly, to see what would happen.

“Please, please don’t wake up my brother. If he catches me talking to you it won’t be pleasant.”

She didn’t want it to be pleasant. “Why shouldn’t I? You two are working together to-” She hesitated, “To get rid of my sister.”

“I don’t care about that.” Spike played with his hands nervously*. “What do you know about Thistle? Is she okay?”

Thistle? Kali had heard that name before. Probably in a letter once or twice from her sister. But even if she did know who this Thistle was, she wouldn’t tell him anything.

“Look, I don’t know who you’re talking about. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Spike looked crestfallen*. He got up and went over to the cabinets, dug around for a bit, and pulled out a bundle of something green. He went to work chopping up the greens with a handful of mushrooms he’d pulled from out of nowhere, and set the bowl down by her cage. He took the chunk of meat away and threw it somewhere outside, cleaned up and went back upstairs.

Kali stared at the bowl of mushrooms and greens. Were these edible? Or was he trying to alleviate her misery by feeding her poison. She sniffed the bowl experimentally, and then took a bite. If she woke up in the morning, at least she wouldn’t be starving.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ AS PROMISED Jemma self-rescue fic *rubs hands together*. If Jemma 'let's remind everybody that I'm specifically a biologist' Simmons doesn't do something with that room full of plants I'm going to eat my hat. Let's just leave it at that for now. & enjoy!

also fulfils @aosadvent2017 prompt “peace”

*spoilers for AOS 5x01 and 5x02*

Rated T for Kasius being a creepy jerk (but nothing overly sexual happens), but also for him meeting an end he deserves.

Read on AO3 (~2500wd)

-

or forever hold your peace

“Walk with me.”

Kasius waved a hand and Jemma forced herself to move. Slowly, gracefully, pointedly, like she had once learnt in ballet: using enough muscles to pull herself forward, so that she would not be tempted to turn and run. She knew she would be dead before reaching the door if she tried something like that. She wouldn’t even hear it coming.

So she followed, swanning after Kasius as if she hung on his every word. They were, after all, the only things she could hear thus far. His words. His breathing. His footfalls. She was not sure if anything else would come back to her, but the absence of her own breathing and heartbeat and the sound of her own footfalls in these marble halls no longer haunted her like it had the first night, keeping her up in a swirling sensory deprivation chamber. Now she had something to focus on. Kasius. And how much she hated every single thing about him, like nails on a chalkboard. Like honey dripping off a thorn.

And then, suddenly, she couldn’t feel hate.

She stepped over a threshold with him into a garden so beautiful that for a moment she could hardly breathe. A room full of potted roses was one thing but this? Gloriously paved pavilions swept here and there, winding through gardens of roses and daffodils, olive and lemon trees, palm fronds and frangipanis, ivy, and orchards. Apples, pears, peaches, apricots.

Her jaw dropped a little. Her body had stilled. None of this she noticed until Kasius turned to glance at her over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he prompted, though of course he required no response from her. It was assumed that she would agree, and even if she had wanted to deny him that satisfaction, her awestruck expression had already betrayed her. For a moment, she was stuck like a deer in the headlights, but she kept her face passive and he did not think to question the inner workings of her mind. They did not matter to him. Only her face.

Satisfied at having caught his petulant princess in a moment of vulnerable joy, Kasius waved over another servant. He would quell her yet, he thought, and picked up a piece of one of his favourite golden apples.

“Try some,” he offered, and Jemma obediently stepped forward. Forcing her breath in and out, forcing her fingers not to clench into fists, she tried not to notice those cold, flat blue eyes so close to her face; that touch so tender but not for her sake. She wished to herself that the apple would taste like ash, like poison, but as she bit down, found it was one of the most beautiful things that she had ever tasted.

And then the rage flooded back in.

She nearly choked on the apple – on the desire to spit it back in his face – as the thought filled her mind, and all her senses, so loudly that for a second it almost felt like her hearing had returned:

People are starving.  

People down below were starving to the point where they had clawed at grain poured onto the ground before them. To the point where they had leapt at each other’s throats. Had killed a man. Or would have, were it not for her – and for Kasius, who had finished what they’d started not for bread, but for perfection.

Kasius sighed loudly, smiling paternalistically.

“I know, my dear,” he assured her. “It can be quite overwhelming. I forgive you.”

Before she could flinch away, Kasius brushed her cheek. His fingers came away with a droplet of water. A smudge of gold. Jemma gaped in horror but fortunately, he merely called another servant to bring him a cloth to wipe the smudge away, and another with a pot of paint to reapply the gold where she had marred it. Feigning chagrin - but also, hiding the terror in her eyes and on her face – Jemma ducked her head and let Kasius led on again. As they walked, he waxed lyrical about his garden and its many beauties, and how it was such a shame that a beauty like herself had been held separate from them for so long. It faded into a meaningless blur of sound. To him she was merely another one of his flowers; he only admired her hardiness because it had allowed her to emerge from below unscathed, for his admiration.

Little did he know, of course, that she had a littering of scars on her torso and legs. She had been through too much not to. Yet, as he had said of his former… concubine? She was safe with them hidden beneath her tunic, where he could not notice them.

(She hoped that would not change any time soon.)

He also did not know, though, many other things about her – or, apparently, about his flowers. Things like the fact that she was a highly trained biologist with paramilitary experience. Things like the fact that apples, peaches, apricots - let alone the plants that they walked past now; daffodils, oleander, Angel’s Trumpet – could kill.

He was walking her through a field of weapons, and he didn’t even know it.

Now, there was something worth smiling about.

--

Standing outside his door that evening - or at least, her best estimate thereof - Jemma took a deep breath. The crockery shuddered on its tray and she hoped it was not too loud; she did not know how many others had been given the silence bug, or drug, or whatever it was. But she drew herself strong. It was now or never – not least because she just couldn’t take this much longer. Her behaviour was unusual, but Kasius still hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that she wasn’t who he thought she was, so she was willing to risk it. If all else failed, she hoped, it was a demure enough act of service that he might think it merely unusual – perhaps even a gesture of goodwill – and simply dismiss her.

Strong, she thought to herself, and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” he called, and so she did, and the smug thrill that ran through her at his expression of surprise was more satisfying than she could have imagined. Careful not to let on, however, she smiled meekly and curtseyed a little before bringing the tray forward. Kasius shuffled in his seat, and gestured for her to sit beside him. How quickly would she be dead, she thought, as she lowered herself into the seat. How close was his assassin? Around the corner? Just outside the door? Heart pounding, she poured the tea.

“Hmm, sweet,” Kasius mused, wafting it past his nose as if it were wine. All of a sudden, Jemma thought, perhaps she should have worked with wine. Perhaps it would have hidden the scent more easily. But then Kasius asked; “What is it?”

Jemma tilted her head. Was he expecting her to answer?

“Speak,” he said, and nodded insistently – excitedly, as if watching her open a present. Jemma’s lips twitched, trying to contort into a smile as her heart filled with the sense of freedom, and a desire to tell this slimey maggot everything she thought about him.

“Wellness tea,” she said instead. “Good for the skin.”

This seemed to amuse Kasius, and Jemma almost laughed. Instead, she simply let that smile slip loose, as if she were pleased to have amused him, and poured the tea. He waited until she picked up her own cup, which she had been hoping against, but prepared for. She took a sip, and so did he.

(They’d have to drink much more than that, though.)

“And what have you been doing with your day, my dear?” Kasius asked.

“Listening,” Jemma replied, and she could see it. And hear it. The smugness. That’s my girl, his expression said. I knew you’d come around. She wondered if he could see the same smugness in her eyes – but no, she thought, he probably assumed she was simply overcome with desire, or gladness for having pleased him, or any number of things that required minimal brainpower on her behalf. Instead, what she meant was learning. And now that she could speak, oh, what she had learned was going to earn her so much more satisfaction.

“Oh, this is simply wonderful,” Kasius praised, taking another mouthful of her tea. “You must share the recipe with the kitchens. Where did you learn such a thing?”

“My mother taught me.”

“Hm.” Kasius nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting woman, your mother. I should have her brought here. Where did you say she worked? Processing?”

“Yes.”

Part of Jemma hoped that he would find May. She would certainly have something to say about this whole situation. Or to punch, at least. But most of Jemma’s attention was focused on trying not to cackle like a bloody murderer as Kasius refilled his own cup to the brim with more tea. How long had it been since he’d poured his own cup? Was it because he was used to taking as much as he wanted of something he liked? Or was it the drug she’d put in there, that even now, was niggling at her own throat to take more?

“Processing, you say?” Kasius repeated. “Yet she knows something about herbs. Curious.”

He paused, and Jemma had to take another sip before he got suspicious.

“Yes, ah,” she offered faux-nonchalantly. “I suppose she got creative. Working with what we have, everyone playing their part and all that.”

“Naturally, naturally.” Kasius nodded. “That’s what I like to hear, my dear. Beautiful stock, your family. You know what? I will have your mother found.”

Perhaps this would have scared her, any moment other than now, but Jemma’s blood was already pumping. Kasius’ words were growing uncontrolled; speaking his mind rather than the measured, perfect words of a philosopher. He drank more. Jemma’s throat itched too, but she quashed it down with the thought of what it would take to expel the poison later. Meanwhile, Kasius’ pupils were growing wider. The drug. Was the poison taking effect yet? How fast was stage two going to go? How was she going to get out of this room once it had?

“Have you got somewhere to be, my dear?”

All of a sudden she felt watched. More than that. Seen. One of the side effects of the drug was paranoia and she should have known, she should have predicted this – but how lucid was he, still?

“You’re all fidgety,” he said. “You’re fidgeting. I don’t like it.”

She grinned, and drummed her fingernails against her teacup. Never had she wished for a clicky pen more in her life, but this would have to do.

“Sorry,” she said, unabashedly not sorry at all as she felt the tides rapidly turning in her favour. “I’m simply excited about having executed my plan to perfection.”

“Perfection?” he repeated, bewildered, and she blinked coquettishly.

“Aren’t you proud of me?”

Something, she saw, started to dawn in Kasius’ eyes. Something, perhaps, about what he had said to her upon their first meeting. About her wrist, smooth as if untouched by a metric. About her tears. Her mysterious knowledge - ‘creativity’- with plants that had not been seen by humans like her in nigh on a century.

Something about the old stories.

Kasius leapt to his feet, and swayed.

“GUARDS!” he roared, and Jemma scrabbled away. This was a rollercoaster of a plan but she wasn’t out of ideas yet. She snatched up the teacup, brandishing it like a weapon, and put the table between her and Kasius so that he could not attack. She only had a few seconds. She’d have to pick a door soon. But she couldn’t help spending a little longer watching the fury in Kasius’ eyes burn out into desperation, pain, fear.

She held her chin high. No mercy.

“Why did you do this?” Kasius choked; still surprised, it seemed, that a woman he had been willing to gift with perfection would turn on him so.

And Jemma had thousands of answers to that question, but one came quick and burning to her tongue.

“Acacius,” she said. “Who?”

“The man I saved. The one you killed,” she explained. “You owe me a life. That is how it works, right?”

Recognition clicked in for a moment, and then the fury returned. Kasius lunged at her, but fell onto the table; convulsing, frothing at the mouth. Not long now.

“GUARDS!!” he cried again, with as much strength as he could muster, though Jemma could hear even that was rapidly fading. “Guards! … They’re here.”

They.  

The heroes. The stories. The legends. The ultimate threats to this regime.

They.  

Her.

Heart in her throat, teapot still in hand, Jemma retreated, launched herself at the door, and fled through Kasius’ compound with the desperation of a crazed racehorse. She was almost out by the time they finally turned on her, and she struggled, and it felt like she was drowning, but she fought on. She smashed the teapot over somebody’s head, ducked a swipe, overturned a potplant and ran. The roses caught at her tunic and flicked at her face and she ran. She stumbled down the stairs, lost her footing for a moment, felt herself falling and thought it’s all over but it was not. The shouting and jostling all around her was muted but she could hear herself. Her footfalls. Her heartbeat. Her breath.

Something slowed within her, and steadied, and somehow she caught herself and staggered on toward the door. She slammed it shut behind her, only taking half a second to catch her breath before looking for the next one. How far had the battlecry gone? Would she be safe anywhere? Which direction should she go?

She settled for ducking into a crevice for a second, as more guards poured into the passageway from elsewhere. Armed ones; not Kasius’ dainty personal staff.

Jemma stiffened, holding her breath as one of them stalked past her – and was shortly blown back, off his feet and into the ground, hard, by a new arrival. Daisy. She seemed amused by all the panic and the alarms – and if Jemma was not mistaken, mouthed, aw shux, for me? – at the contingent of guards between them. Jemma curled even deeper into the crevice, out of the way while Daisy attacked, and only when the coast was clear did she creep out again. Upon seeing her, Daisy baulked - horrified, sympathetic – and touched Jemma’s arm.

Are you alright?

Jemma touched her ear, symbolising deafness, and Daisy frowned in confusion.

“I’ll explain later,” Jemma said, speaking loudly over the ruckus she could only assume Daisy was hearing. “But our cover is blown. We have to get out of here. Now.”

[bleu-strawberriez]

A Summer Night in Paradis

Ford would not force Stan to suffer his touch longer than he needed too. Ford should have expected that Bill would find a way to hurt him.

Rated E + 6.3k Words + AO3 Link

Stan’s fingers trembled before him. His brother’s breath puffed in soft clouds before pale lips. His eyes were wide and frightened. Lips pulled taut even as he attempted to keep his jaw clamped tight. Stan’s chest heaved, desperation curling within unyielding bone and soft flesh. The whites of his eyes glimmered below him. Fear visible in the shallow pools.

Ford smiled, the curve of his lips sad and remorseful, as his fingers skimmed over thick chest hair. The soft springy curls clung to his questing touch. Stan’s thighs trembled as strong hands brushed over the sensitive skin with the gentlest touch that he could manage under the circumstances.

He would not make this situation any worse than it already was.

Ford would not force Stan to suffer his touch longer than he needed too. It was bad enough that they couldn’t be separated, not now.

Not at this moment.

Ford shuddered. His sides burned, and he couldn’t quite ignore the way that his knees protested their current position. Having sat against the edge of a dark and gleaming tile for seeming hours. The indent leaving marks on the thin skin of his knee.

He was so very aware of the space where they were connected. The slightest distance between their bodies.

Stan’s hands were firmly clamped onto his shoulder. Their near bruising touch making his cock twitch inside of his brother’s still tight ass, releasing hot spurts of piss from a still aching bladder and forcing him to cant his hips upwards slightly so as to prevent the liquid from gushing out, only further plugging his brother. Thin trickles of fluid dripping slowly down his thighs.

Ford could at least spare Stan from the humiliation of sitting in a pool of piss.

Carefully ignoring the relief that rushed through him, the pleasure that rose through his tired and beaten body, Ford glanced down. His gaze followed the path that those large hairy arms made towards the other’s body. Stan’s eyes were heavy lidded with pleasure, his lip caught between his teeth. Ford couldn’t help but hiss and flinch away at the sight of the darkening bruises circling Stan’s neck, guilt and remorse swiftly chasing away the faint prickles of contentment curling around the edges of his consciousness.

The slight movement jerked him around slightly. Forced his cock in just a touch deeper and Stan moaned, the sound rumbling through his chest as thick fingers squeezed tighter around firm muscle, eyes rolling backwards as he arched his back and thrust down onto Ford’s still swollen cock.

The beautiful sight laid bare before him couldn’t quite wash away the horror of what he’d done.

Stan had struggled beneath him.

Ford’s hands curled haphazardly around his neck, thumbs pressing down against his brother’s Adam’s apple. He’d been unable to move his hands away from the sensitive and fragile area. Electricity had run through his body, sharp and hot and lightning fast, as Bill’s voice echoed through the cavernous chamber. Laughter rising above them and causing the air to tremble underneath its long and cruel notes.

It had taken everything in his power to prevent himself from jerking, from pressing down just the slightest bit more and crushing Stan’s windpipe.

Ford knew that was what Bill wanted.

The horror and agony of such a betrayal to tighten the corners of Stan’s eyes as he attempted to suck in breath after desperate breath despite no longer being able to do so. He’d never be able to live with himself if Bill succeeded in forcing him to murder Stan with his own bare hands.

And Bill was more than aware of that fact.

Ford hadn’t been able to stop himself from putting his hands on his brother. But he could stop himself from fulfilling the dream demon’s wish.

He’d kept his hands away from the more fragile parts of Stan’s throat. Stolen the demon’s pleasure as Ford’s thumbs were the only things that dug lightly into the soft swell of Stan’s Adam’s apple.

Bill had learned a lesson then. He was no longer able to directly control Ford. But there were other ways of forcing a person to do something they didn’t want to. And Bill knew all of Ford’s weaknesses.

He’d even dragged the greatest of them all to the Fearamid.

Bill had waited until he was unfrozen from his prison. Still safe in the knowledge that there was little chance of the extra dimensional demon stealing or otherwise taking the knowledge he sought. He had waited until Ford stood before him, tall and undaunted, head held high and back straight, a smug grin just touching his lips. His hands unbound.

A quick snap of slender black fingers and the ceiling lost solidity turning into an almost slick and slippery liquid that gleamed in otherworldly and uncomfortable colors. Reality seeming thinner and more fragile than it should, around that great gaping pool of liquid light.

A body had fallen through it.

It had landed with a heavy crunch, a low grunt escaping the figure’s unseen lips.

Ford had tensed, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring, as he stared at whatever unfortunate being his greatest enemy had brought before him in an attempt to frighten him into breaking.

Ford remembered seeing blood pooling underneath the still silent figure. The thin liquid somehow clinging to the man’s body. He had been certain that it was a man though at the time he hadn’t been sure it could have been.

He had been so very stupid that day.

So sure that it couldn’t be anyone he personally knew.

Despite the distance between them Ford had seen the marks that littered the other’s body. Bruises had shown through torn clothing. Thin lacerations visible underneath the thin coat of black liquid that clung to his form. He’d absently noticed that it was eating away at the man’s already ragged jacket.

The ceiling was corrosive once transformed into a liquid state. Or perhaps it was the unsettling light that ate away at whatever it touched. He remembered thinking it fascinating in that moment, wondering over the changes that the rift had brought to this reality, before refocusing on Bill.

“Whatever this is. Whoever this is. It still won’t make me talk, Cipher!” Ford had shouted, his voice loud and bold and filling the room with a bravado that almost felt real.

He’d stepped forward, mouth drawn back in a snarl. He’d frozen immediately afterwards, his feet bumping against the still figure’s back, as a low groan rose up.

It had been a familiar sound. Eyes settling unerringly on the man Ford hadn’t been able to stop the thin cry that had escaped his lips as a sharp snap echoed through the room. The man’s back arched, his body twisting away from some unseen force, as a scream tore through pale lips.

“Stanley!”

“You sure about that, Sixer.”

Ford remembered all too clearly what had happened next.

Stan had been tortured extensively by Bill’s Henchmaniacs after they’d caught him outside of the Mystery Shack’s boundaries.

Bill had been far too glad to continue their work.

Stan hadn’t been awake for the experience but Ford had been forced to watch as Bill systematically tore his brother apart before his eyes. His voice calm and soothing, despite the high pitched tone that echoed in his mind, as he spoke to Ford. Told him that it would only take a single snap of his fingers to awaken his brother. That Ford could stop this at any time if he wished to prevent the other anymore trauma.

He hadn’t.

God, had he wished to. The word had been on the tip of his tongue. Standing on a precipice as wide and deep as the Canyons of Resshnak. The name of the virgin planet as guttural and sibilant on his tongue as it had been when he’d first learnt it. But he hadn’t quite been able to push it past his lips despite the loud and terribly hoarse screams that had been torn from his brother’s abused throat.

A sharp snap followed by a thick crunch coming from nowhere and everywhere returned Stan to his previous state.

A large singular eye curved into a smile. Ford had been unable to hide his unease as something like pleasure stole its way across the demon’s triangular face. The blocks that made up his body trembling and shifting in excitement, that same unsettling light coming from within the cracks of his body.

Bill had decided on another plan of action.

One that Ford knew would haunt him endlessly.

Bill had wanted him to hurt Stanley. Laughter, bright and loud, echoed through the chamber as he described in excruciating detail just what he would do if Ford decided to disobey.

He’d wanted Ford to violate Stan’s body as thoroughly as he could imagine. His brother’s shoulders had tensed as the demon informed them both of just what he wanted to see.

“Don’t worry, Poindexter. If you can’t get it up I can always help you with a snap of my fingers.” Bill had laughed condescendingly at that.

“Though-“ The demon had murmured softly to himself, eyes fixed firmly on Stan. “You could always ask ol’ Stan over there if he’d be willing to lend ya a helping hand. Or rather-“ Bill’s smile displayed an alarming and inhuman set of eye teeth as he grinned broadly at Ford.

“A helping mouth.” A big mouth like that I bet he’d easily suck you down. Huh, Sixer? The demon’s unnerving grin stared at him. Bill’s voice loud and clear in his mind despite the protection of the metal plate curving protectively around his skull. He’s probably got all sorts of skills that you’ll be begging to try out soon enough. It’ll certainly shut up your idiot of a brother for one huh.

Nausea fluttered through him at the thought. His stomach twisted. Its meager contents, little more than the faintest amounts of water and stomach acid, roiled unpleasantly inside of his stomach.

Even more unhelpfully he could feel the faintest stirrings of arousal fluttering through him whether by his own accord or not, Ford wasn’t quite sure. Nevertheless it served to unbalance him. Allowed him to gaze openly, with horror or some sort of consideration he wasn’t quite certain, at Stan and take in the miserable sight of his brother.

Stan’s clothes were torn and ripped. Tattered fabric barely clinging to his upper arms as his shackled wrists stuck to the floor beneath them. His chest was exposed, thick chest hair burned off in rough patches across the considerable expanse of his front.

‘Stanley really should have shaved himself at some point. It would have prevented Bill from causing any further harm to him through wildly burning hair.’ Ford couldn’t quite help himself from thinking as he stared at his prone twin, at the shiny red patches of burnt skin.

His legs, Ford’s eyes lingered unconsciously on the sight as he stared at his brother, were thin and lightly muscled. His limbs spread just enough to reveal the bulge of Stan’s cock. The thin fabric of his boxers peeked through the tattered remains of the pants that clung to his slender thighs. Ford attempted to glance over the sight of Stan’s crotch but couldn’t avoid taking in the thick swell pressing against his pants. It was entirely unhelpful that Stanley’s position forced his clothing to tighten and cling against select parts of his anatomy. It was unfair to the both of them as that very position revealed just how detailed and outlined those areas were.

Ford swore that he could almost see the barest outline of Stan’s balls pressing against the seam of Stan’s pants just underneath the swollen outline of his cock.

It would be entirely like Bill to do this. To force him into a position that would require him to do as he’d demanded.

Whether of his own accord or not.

Bill was likely aware that he’d succumb. That he would give in as ordered. If only to spare Stanley anymore pain.

Even if his own actions would cause the other more than enough pain for another lifetime.

‘He’d been gentle then.’

Ford had taken Stan’s face in his hands. Rested the meatiest part of his palm along the swollen base of his brother’s jaw. Pressed his fingers into the slowly swelling bruise that just kissed the bottom edge of Stan’s chin. He’d avoided Stan’s gaze, sought to treat this moment as any other, tried to forget that this was his brother and not simply some pretty sentient he’d found agreeable enough to sleep with.

Thumb stroking the bruise he’d pressed a kiss against dry and chapped lips. He’d coaxed Stan’s lips open with light and tentative swipes of his tongue, had heard the faintest groan rise up from the other’s throat and ignored it as he let his other hand wander.

His hand trailing gently down his brother’s back Ford stroked the smooth bumps of his spine. He’d pressed deeper into the kiss as he’d let the tip of his pointer finger brush against the base of Stan’s spine lightly prodding along the top of Stan’s ass.

Ford had felt Stan tense in that moment. The room came into focus as his eyes opened and he’d instantly been caught in Stan’s gaze. His brother’s left eye still swollen shut. His right gazing desperately up at him.

Bill hadn’t healed everything. He’d simply ensured that Stan wouldn’t die.

Ford felt the familiar touch of anger lick his insides as he stared at the man who was his twin brother. He’d known Stanley as intimately as a sibling could.

Soon he’d know him as intimately as a lover could.

He teased and stroked that gentle indent. Pressed dry kisses along the curve of Stan’s nose, across his cheeks, and slipped them back against a soft and yielding mouth. A vain attempt at comfort. All that Ford was capable of offering at this very moment.

He briefly lamented their dreadful lack of lubricant and slid his finger down to tease and prod against the firm muscle guarding entrance into Stan’s body.

Ford had a feeling- his hand curled lightly around Stan’s neck now, fingers squeezing lightly as he thought of digging them into the gelatinous ball of interdimensional acid that was Bill’s eye- that this wouldn’t simply be as easy as asking Bill for something to ease the way into his brother’s body. The demon would likely delight in informing him that Stan’s blood would more than suit the occasion.

He tried not to think about what he was doing. Tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t received his brother’s permission to do this.

Rather, he tried to think about the pain that he was sparing Stan from enduring. The torture that would have surely continued if Ford hadn’t acquiesced to their captor’s demands. His eyelids lowering, lips drawing into a thin solemn line, Ford’s thoughts turned to the past. He was all too aware of the things that Bill was capable of. Stan had only gotten a taste of what the damned creature would do to him if Ford refused to bend.

Stanley would forgive him for this. There was no doubt about it.

But Ford would do his best to ensure that this was as gentle an experience as he could make it.

“Move it, Sixer!” Bill yelled, his body turning as red as the blood that still gleamed brightly on the floor, the room trembling around them as he snapped his fingers and Stan gasped, barely able to open his mouth as he hoarsely shouted Ford’s name into the cold air.

His hand splayed across the broad span of Stan’s back Ford surged forward. His pinky pressed into Stan’s puckered entrance for a single brief moment and he pulled Stan forward and stuck his own fingers in his mouth. Ford heard a pained gasp and what vaguely sounded like a word rise from his brother’s throat but he ignored both as he refused to turn away from his task.

He sucked hard around his fingers. Mouth hollowing and teeth lightly scraping his fingers Ford listened to the quiet grunts grow louder as blood seeped from the edge of Stan’s mouth. Stomach clenching Ford felt dread spread through him as he finally tore his hand away from his mouth.

The thick coppery scent of Stan’s blood prevented him from smelling anything else. It overpowered even the tang of vomit and piss. Both of which had seeped into the bricks. Bill having refused to remove the mess that their bodily fluids had left in the chamber.

Ford carefully turned Stan over. Listening to the thin wheeze of his brother’s labored breathing and the rough hacking coughs that tore through his abdomen.

“It’s alright, Stanley.” He murmured softly, hands smoothing over Stan’s back. One patted him lightly as the other, the one covered in his saliva, moved south.

The coughing abated but the tension in his brother’s body didn’t lift. Stan’s muscles shifted. His back rippled as Ford’s fingers slid through his ass cheeks. Stan groaned in protest but didn’t move. His left hand rubbing soft circles into Stan’s sweaty back Ford watched as Stan slowly relaxed.

Ford pressed down his finger prodding the tightly furled entrance. It took a fair amount of pressure for the muscle to give. But it gave way under his gentle but persistent touch. Ford’s breath caught in his throat at the strong grip Stan’s muscles held on the tip of his finger. Stan’s voice rose in a brittle cry, his chest rattling in a concerning manner. Lungs drawing in air with a thin sucking noise that caused his chest to tighten.

He swallowed at the sound. Nausea twisting his gut. Gorge rising as he forced himself to focus on preparing his brother for the inevitable intrusion.

The sound seemed to echo around them. The tight heat of Stan’s insides, more and more prevalent as he slowly buried his finger inside of Stan, barely distracted him from the concern that sat heavily in the pit of his stomach. He hoped that Bill hadn’t just undone what had been healed earlier.

Stan’s injuries had been so very intense. His lungs punctured by a shard of his fractured ribcage. He’d struggled to breath. Blood dripping down Stan’s chin after bubbling past his lips. Bill had grown tired of it soon after Stan’s arrival and promptly healed him.

Ford grit his teeth, head bowed over Stan’s spine, fingers working Stan open. He could hear the chatter of the Henchmaniacs. Bill’s voice rose above the din. Thin and high laughter caused the walls to rumble around them. Dust scattering, illuminated, across the thin shafts of light within the building.

The sound was thick with derision as Bill gazed down at them.

“Hurry it up now, Fordsy…” Bill paused leaning forward, eye lighting up the space around him as he flashed through a number of nauseating colors. “Unless you want me to speed things up a bit.” Ford could hear the eagerness coating the demon’s words, dripping thick and maddeningly slow like tar. Electricity crackled along the demon’s edges. The smell of burning ozone filled the air as he reached down, his fingers almost touching the top of Stan’s head.

“No!” Ford’s voice came out in a panicked shout. His fingers tensed and spasmed around Stan’s shoulder. His eyes widened, the dark irises reflecting the pale electric glow of the energy sparking off of Bill’s hand, branches of lightning breaking off of the main limb. It slammed into the ground around him just barely missing Stan’s shoulder, the phantom smell of burning hair rose from the depths of his memories to haunt him as he stared at the smoking crater.

The edges of the crater were glowing in rainbow hues that clung to the craggy edges in a thin ring of foul smelling magma. The molten rock dripped and Ford watched, his stomach turning, as they twisted and writhed like snakes across the jagged bowl. The colors shifting and warping until they dulled around the edges to a bright purple-pink. The long thin coils of molten rock fattening and growing lumpy in a way that was far too familiar.

They filled the crater to the brim. Fat coils writhing across the top until the floor finally flattened and smoothed out.

This was a blatant attempt to frighten him.

Ford could see it. Very well knew why Bill was doing this. And he was ashamed to admit that the sight merely deepened the urge he felt to draw Stan closer to himself.

His brother’s fingers curled. Stan’s voice rose, deepening, as Ford slowly drew his fingers out of him. A final twist and curl drawing a soft pleasured noise from the depth of his chest.

Ford gripped his cock loosely in his right hand. Fingers curling around the swollen head before sliding down its length. It took little effort to press the mushroom shaped head of his cock against the loosened ring of muscle. He held onto his brother’s hip and panted heavily on top of Stan.

Lips straightening Ford leaned down and kissed the back of Stan’s shoulder.

Thin bright strands of light dappled Stan’s back. Casting shadows across the broad mottled expanse. Ford shifted, tilted his hips and groaned as a slow rolling thrust allowed him to breach passed Stan’s still tight hole.

Ford gasped blinking rapidly as he struggled to keep himself together.

Stan was so tight. The searing burn of his walls drew a gasp from him and brought him closer to his twin.

He couldn’t quite tell if the bright spots in his vision were from the sudden intense burst of pleasure or from the glare of the light on Stan’s pale back. Bruises marbled Stan’s skin. Dark scars marred it. Ford couldn’t hide the wince as he took in the thin lacerations that still bled sluggishly on Stan’s back. They were healing. Far more rapidly than the human body could on its own, but their very presence reminded him of his failures. Of the ways in which Bill had hurt Stan.

They would heal soon. Scar tissue closing the wounds and slowly the scars would fade until the silvery remains were all but non-existent.

Soon Stan would be relatively free of the wounds that Ford’s refusal to break had created.

They would be replaced of course.

But Stan would have a short reprieve. Until the next time Ford enraged Bill or the demon grew bored with his first captive.

Ford shuddered and leaned back. Listening to the quiet moan, a soft ‘Sixer, please’ that echoed up from beneath him. His body tightened. Ford rose from his seated position and with a quick rolling thrust of his hips slid deeply inside of Stan.

“Stanley. Ahh. St-Stan..” Ford panted, body bowing to his own desires, and bent over his brother. His voice drifted away as he focused on the sensations near overwhelming his burning sensitive nerves. He pressed closely against Stan. Ford groaned, his teeth lightly nipping the delicate shell of Stan’s ear.

“God!” Stan’s voice rose in reaction to his own low cry. Stan arched his back, whimpering as pain flashed through his body at the movement, and shoved back against him.

He wondered if Stan had asked for this. If this was him begging Ford to take him. The distant thought trailed through his mind. Stan was warm and solid beneath him. Ford could taste copper in the air. The scent and the pained noises that Stan’s injuries drew from him kept Ford from allowing himself to sink fully into his own pleasure.

Ford softened his touch.

He pressed kisses down the unmarked portions of Stan’s back.

Shuddered, thrust lightly into his brother, and kissed the nape of his neck. The tang of sweat clung to his tongue. The musk of Stan’s own scent comforting in its strength as Ford buried his face in the downy hairs for a second that seemed to pass by far too swiftly.

He was so tired… But Stan’s moans were rising, climbing, echoing, through the cavernous chamber.

Ford swallowed thickly. His head spinning and throat tightening, nausea rippling through his body, with the memory of Stan’s wounds.

“Harder.” He tensed, lube-slick fingers gripping Stan’s hip, at the absurdly loud moan that fell from Stan’s mouth.

“Stanley. I can’t-” Ford protested. He couldn’t- No, he wouldn’t take his brother any harder than he already was.

“Godammit, Ford! I’m not some delicate flower. I woulda thought that, after all of this-, you’d’ve learned that by now.” Ford started, eyes widening, as Stan reached down and grabbed his hand. Stan turned, pain flickering across handsome weathered features as his back protested, and stared up at him determinedly.

“God knows that I love ya.”

“I want ya, Sixer.” Stan’s expression hardened. “I need this. Want this so much.” A tired slur clung to his words now. His shoulders falling slightly even as Stan struggled to maintain eye contact. His voice was rough and deep nevertheless. Gravelly after hours of screaming. Hours of begging Bill to stop. Snarling at Ford to be strong. “I put up with that bastard’s idea of fun so that I could have these moments with ya.”

Ford coughed embarrassment rising up within him as he leaned forward slightly. Longing singing through him as he stared into his twin’s eyes and saw the heat that lay within.

“You wanted this?” Incredulity laced his voice. The barest hint of awe dusting his words.

“W-Well.” Stan hiccoughed now. Cheeks pink as he chewed his lip. Shoulders tensing as Stan struggled to carry the momentum of his bold confidence. The resultant pain born with scarcely a flicker of his reddened eyes much to Ford’s pride. “Maybe not exactly this. Much as I love ya, poindexter, I didn’t ever expect that I’d’ve end up with your dick balls deep inside me.”

“But.” And here Stan seemed to straighten. Uncurling himself. Seeming to bloom in this moment, a sunflower reaching for the bright nourishing rays of the sun hidden as it was behind brick and mortar, as that flash of inspiration, that spark of life that had kept Stan going for so long now, returned to him. His grip on Ford’s hand tightened as he firmly laced their fingers together. “I want this. Want you to give me everything you’ve got. I want-“

Here, Stan’s voice cut off. Chest expanding with a rattling groan as Ford thrust into him with a short snap of his hips.

“This?”

The brackish light turned the pale strands of Stan’s hair into an almost watery purple-grey. His lips pale and washed out. The bloom of his cheeks a deeper more vibrant shade as he moaned throatily underneath Ford.

Ford couldn’t quite contain his grin at the expletive that fell from Stan’s lips. His brother arched his back, once more ignoring his still-healing wounds, and thrust back weakly against Ford.

“God, yes.” Stan sighed into the cool air.

Bill’s voice bounced around them. His laughter and taunts rising high as they twisted and writhed against one another beneath him. Ford silently urged Stan to ignore him. Reaching down, fingers stroking along his brother’s thick bruised side to wrap around Stan’s swollen erection.

Ford hoped that this would distract him.

He wouldn’t be able to control himself if Bill hurt Stan for speaking out. For snarling something bright and cocksure in the heat of the moment.

His fingers slipped over Stan’s cockhead. His fingers trembled faintly as they trailed around the swollen head. ‘An after effect of Bill’s newfound delight with electricity.’ Ford mused grimly. He wasn’t sure how long the effects would last. Whether his body would ever recover from this experience.

‘But...’ Stan’s moans roused him from his thoughts. ‘Now was not the time to mull over such things.’

The flared edge of his brother’s cock burned against the soft pads of his fingers. The weeping slit dribbled pre-cum in thin rivulets that snaked down his hand to his wrist. Stan had been hard for so long. Ford caught the shout that threatened to erupt from Stan’s body with a kiss.

He ached to taste.

Swooping down, Ford smiled into Stan’s lips as he swiped a thumb heavily over the plump head of the other man’s cock. Nail delicately catching along the thin slit before the small frission of pain was smoothed over with the pad of his thumb.

Stan was ready. His body, despite the abuse that Bill had settled upon him, was rife with signs telling Ford just how ready his brother was.

Ford’s body moved instinctively. His pace firm and steady as he fucked his twin.

Stan’s low sweet moans caused his groin to tighten. He longed to brush his fingers through Stan’s hair but knew better than to do so.

Any sign of affection would be noticed.

Their conversation was risk enough as it was. Ford could not draw any more attention to their location. Bill could see them of course. But he didn’t overly care for the things they were saying. Entertained as he was by the sinuous movement of Ford’s back muscles. His muscles tensing and relaxing with each gentle thrust into Stan’s willing body.

It was better to avoid it.

‘No one-‘ Ford shuddered swallowing his groan as Stan tightened around him. A chill dripping down his spine, the faint memory of dozens of small cold hands clinging to the sense-memory, as he thought about Bill. ‘-ever benefited from catching Bill’s attention.’

He swallowed Stan’s cries. Fingers gripping his brother’s hip as the bright flash of colors from above, around, underneath them turned Stan’s mottled skin a variety of colors. Even as the other left Stan’s cock and trailing pre-come along the soft swell of Stan’s stomach. Matting his brother’s chest hair as he sought a nipple.

The sound of massive stone blocks scraping against one another rumbled across the top of the pyramid.

Ford ignored the thin dusting of sediment that fell from above. The haunted wailing of the townsfolk of Gravity Falls- at least Ford could only assume that the cries came from the tortured souls whose physical forms had been turned into stone- echoed through the massive chamber.

He struggled to ignore the young woman whose frozen body stood mere meters away from them. The life-like details. Strands of hair hovering loosely around her face. The expression of bone-deep terror. A slender hand raised attempting in vain to shield her from whatever horror had come for her in that singular moment of terror that would come to define her life. Stuck in time. Frozen, aware of that which was happening around her but unable to react.

‘The slippery sensations of tentacles that were not there physically but still seemed to stroke through the thick stone to the echoes of soft flesh that had long since been transformed. Teeth gnawing through bone despite the stone and flesh that covered it. The soft yielding touch of a massive eye that wasn’t there.’ Ford shuddered at the thought. Yes. He was intimately aware of the hell that the townsfolk were going through right now.

Stan’s voice couldn’t quite drown out the screaming, muffled as it was beneath his kiss, but it certainly offered a welcome respite. One that Ford eagerly turned to.

He kissed his brother deeply. A parched desert sipping eagerly at the steady rain. A hand raised to the sky, shadowing a small face as delight shown bright at the trailing cries of a sea-gull. His hands slid across the broad bruised expanse of Stan’s body.

His fingers hooking underneath Stan’s jaw until his Adam’s apple was revealed. Bobbing heavily, desperately, red lips swollen and shiny parted for air, as Ford’s teeth and tongue met the firm swell. Stan moaned so deeply that he could almost taste it, the vibrations were so strong against his tongue.

Stan writhed gently underneath him. A pained grunt rising as his injured back touched Ford’s chest.

“I’m sorr-“ An apology rose instinctively.

“Don’t be!” Stan barked in response. His voice softened something apologetic racing across his features as he continued. “I’m not some fragile doll.”

“I-“ Ford attempted to speak his voice wobbling slightly as he held himself still inside of Stan. It was a struggle. He ached to bury himself deeper inside of his brother. His balls drawn tight, heavy and swollen with cum, yearned to relieve themselves.

“Stanford.” Stan’s voice deepened with pain and pleasure and rumbled through the cavernous space. “I need ya to fuck the living lights outta me.” Stan gasped now, Ford’s tightly wound control fraying at the edges, as his brother sank into him. “I-ah need you to come inside of me. No matter the damn injuries.”

Ford gasped.

That thin tenuous thread snapped, and a single sharp thrust drove him deep inside of Stan.

His body, separate from his own mind in this instance struck dumb and blind as it was by sheer pleasure, thrust vigorously into Stan. He held tightly onto Stan. A bruising grip. Ford was sure that he would find marks on Stan’s hips that fit neatly in the width of his hand.

Stan buried his hand in Ford’s hair. The man grinned and dug his fingers into the messy dirty curls a breathy moan falling from his lips as he thrust back into Ford.

“Stanley, please!” Ford gasped desperately, sucking in a breath so loud that it rattled inside of his chest.

His free hand travelled south. Fingernails scraping through the thick line of graying hair that bisected his brother’s abdomen. Fingers curling around a swollen purpled cock. Ford tugged desperately.

His fingers slipping over the wet head. Sliding down the thick length to squeeze at the root of his twin’s erection.

Stan came with a shuddering cry.

Hoarse and desperate. His body trembling underneath him, around him.

Ford swallowed that cry with another kiss and came apart at the seams. Bright stars flashed behind his eyes. His cock twitched, seemingly in tandem with Stan’s, inside of his brother. Painting Stan’s insides white with cum.

Stan’s fingers scrabbled at his shoulders. Hot streams of cum shot from his brother’s cock. Dribbling over Ford’s fingers even as they streaked across his stomach and chest. The sting of his nails raking thin red lines only intensified the pleasure as Ford thrust once, twice, inside of him. Milking himself with spastically rippling walls and grinding into Stan with tight circular motions.

“I love you.” Ford sighed into Stan’s ear.

Bill had gone silent. Grown bored perhaps. But the echoing thunderous cries of the townsfolk served to drown out his words.

“Stanley.” He nuzzled into lightly, warmly into the soft hollow behind Stan’s ear. Stan was quiet now. Save for a contented moan or two.

He basked in the afterglow. Careful still to not press down on his brother’s injuries Ford shifted and maneuvered them around until they were both on their sides. Bill was gone now. Gone to terrorize others, perhaps.

This meant he could revel in their continued survival. In the sweetness of Stan’s lips and the light in Stan’s eyes.

He could feel the pressure rising within his bladder. Knew what it meant even as his cock softened inside of Stan.

But he could not bring himself to disengage from his brother.

What was one more indignity to savoring this moment in peace?

Ford couldn’t be sure how much time had passed before the first dribble of piss escaped him. Stan mumbled sleepily in front of him. Shifted and cocked his hips slightly. Instinct.

A moan, rising from two throats, broke the still air as Ford slowly loosened the reins of his battered control and released a thin stream of piss.

It splashed, hot and wet and messy, inside of Stan. His brother moaned again. Shifted and groaned a sleepy ‘Sixer?’ as the viscous liquid continued to fill him up. Ford’s cock balls deep inside of him. The tight squeeze of muscles around the base of his cock kept the hot mixture of cum and piss inside of his brother.

“Everything’s alright. Sleep, Stanley.” His breath hot against the shell of Stan’s ear Ford sighed contentedly.

“ ’Kay.” Was Stan’s quiet response. His brother settled easily back into sleep.

Exhausted. Wounds still relatively fresh. Bleeding once more after all that Stan had been through. His body unspeakably sore. Ford couldn’t blame him for falling asleep once more.

He could only imagine that Stan was comforted by all of this.

Ford’s presence at his back. Arms wrapped around him. Cock buried inside of him, plugging him up tight. His cum, and piss now, keeping him nice and full.

It all served to soothe whatever hurts still haunted his mind.

The stream lightened and eventually gave way to the barest dregs of his bladder. The warmth of Stan’s body. The gentle sloshing of cum and piss inside of his brother, around his cock, was strangely calming. It eased Ford into a doze.

Sleep lapped at the ragged edges of his consciousness.

Ford smiled, mouth pressed tight against the nape of Stan’s neck, and sighed once more into the cold night air. The muted muffled lights, gleaming bright and otherworldly between the cracks of the floor, painted them in soft purples and reds, greens and blues fluttering over their eyelids. The colors of the rainbow and more beside twisted and writhed in strange unnerving motions above and over them.

They were comforting tonight.

“I love you.”

‘I do.’ Ford thought distantly to himself. His arms wrapped around his brother. Stan’s body warm and sweet underneath him. He could feel the blood from re-opened injuries beginning to wet his clothes. Trickles of come and piss escaping past the girth of his cock buried as it was inside of Stan.

He could worry about Stan’s health later.

He was exhausted.

The bone-deep feeling seeming to cling to every inch of his spent and sore body. Muscles twitching now, from overuse and abuse. His head throbbing.

But he was content nevertheless.

Content to steal this tiny special moment with his brother in the shadows of the Fearamid. Ford slipped sleepily into Morpheus’ welcome embrace.

Their worries could wait for another day.

[challengewriterssoul]

Story 4

Prompt:  “The murders, the fighting, everything that I remember. Is it real?” “No. We installed false memories in you. It was the only way we could ensure your compliance.”

“Zara, it’s time for breakfast,” I heard.

“I’m coming, dad,” I responded.

I grabbed my bookbag and I walked out of my bedroom and down the hall. I could hear the loud music coming from Axel’s room. I knocked on his door.

“What,” I heard as the music was turned down.

“Breakfast, Axe,” I said.

“I’ll be down in a bit,” he called.

I just nodded and continued on my way. I walked down the stairs and I could hear the giggling of my little sisters and brothers. I dropped my book bag by the front door and I walked into the kitchen. I saw my dad entertaining my sisters and brothers with his poor excuse of pancake art. I saw mom rushing hurriedly around the kitchen, gathering her things so that she could rush out the door to get to work. I smiled at her frantic running.

As I sat down at the kitchen island next to Jane, Max, Melody, and Ben, mom kissed dad and then proceeded to kiss all of us on the way out the door of the kitchen.

“MOM,” I heard Axel squeal loudly.

“See you tonight,” she called as we heard the door close.

I turned to look at dad and he had a dopey, lovey, mushy face. I knew that he loved mom very much, but I didn’t need to see it all of the time. I cleared my throat and he looked at me and grinned.

“Good morning, rosebud,” he said, “Could I interest you in some scrambled eggs and bacon?”

I looked at the clock and saw that it was 6:30 am. Axe and I had to be at school by 7:30 and it only takes Axe ten minutes to get there, but I knew he wanted to see his bandmates and his girlfriend, so I replied, “I’ll take two bacon sandwiches and an apple. I have to make sure that I am ready when Axe is so he doesn’t leave me behind.”

Dad just nodded and made my order and I made my lunch.

“Axel what would you like,” Dad asked.

“Same as Z, please,” Axe replied.

Dad handed me my bagged sandwiches and Axe’s sandwiches and I kissed him on the cheek.

“Love you, dad,” I whispered in his ear.

Then I walked over to Axe and said, “We’re ready to go.”

He stood and then said, “Later.”

“Have a good day you two,” dad called out as we walked to the front door.

___

When we got to school I gave Axe his breakfast and then I left him. He didn’t say anything to me, as per usual. He, being a senior, didn’t want anything to do with his sister who is a lowly freshman. I rolled my eyes as he headed towards the group that was sitting on the raised flower bed right in front of the school. I followed a pace and a half behind Axe. He had told me my first day of high school that I wouldn’t associate with him during the day and that even though his friends knew me I wasn’t allowed to say anything to them.  

“Do you have to drive the robo-sis,” one of his friends asked.

I just ignored them.

“Unfortunately. If I don’t the rents get shirty with me,” Axe confirmed.

“She is such a drag. I don’t get how such a lame person could be your sister,” Axe’s girlfriend said in her high pitched baby voice. (Think Kristen Chenoweth)

“She isn’t even pretty,” said another of Axe’s friends.

I hated his friends. I kept walking to the front door. I was low-key livid. My own brother wasn’t even sticking up for me. But I kept my face quite blank as I made it to the door.

“Yeah, she is so fat. No one would ever want her,” Axe’s girlfriend stated as if it were fact.

I went inside and I kept going to my favorite spot in the school. I was in one of the old lecture halls. It was one of the halls that are no longer in use due to it not having enough room for people. It was a room that was almost never used. I sat in one of the plush red velveteen seats and as I ate my breakfast I cried. I hated my brother sometimes. I couldn’t understand what his problem was. But I knew that if I narc’ed on him, that he would make my life a living hell. As I finished my breakfast, I pulled out my sketchbook and I began to sketch. I lost myself in the sketching.

“There you are Z,” I heard.

I looked up and I saw my friend Cooper coming into the hall. I smiled. I was glad to see him and secretly in love with Cooper. He was tall, big; line-backer big – muscles, red hair; fashionably mussed, and big green eyes looking at me. He, of course, was carrying his book bag, gym bag, and his lacrosse stick. He dropped most of that at the door to the hall and headed in my direction.

“Morning, Coop. How are you,” I asked as he sat down next to me.

He just sat looking at me. I knew that he was reading me in the only way a best friend/secret crush can.

“I’m ok, but who made you cry this morning. No don’t tell me, I have three guesses and the first two don’t count,” he replied.

I looked away and sighed.

“Axel is a dick and his friends and harpy of a girlfriend are just as bad, if not worse. I hope you don’t believe anything they say,” Cooper raged.

He put his hand on my shoulder and turned me back to look at him.

“Z, you are an amazing girl. You are so wonderful that you are way above them. Don’t let anyone make you feel less,” he exclaimed looking into my eyes.

My heart fluttered and I felt like if I wasn’t careful I would spill just how much I really liked Coop. I smiled at him. Then we started chatting. He was telling me about his lacrosse practice and not that I really understood the rules and what he meant by the plays, but I did appreciate that we were talking about normal things.

“You know, you are my real best friend. You are so strong,” Cooper said randomly.

“Where did that come from,” I questioned.

“Well, unfortunately, some of my teammates have seen us hanging out together and were really speaking badly about you and I fought with a couple of the guys,” He complained.

I felt my internal emotions and my inner voice begin the degrading comments and emotions.

“You shouldn’t get into fights over me. We can hang out in secret like we are to…” I started.

“WHAT?! NO?! I will not let those assholes pull us apart. You are my girl! You are the one that will let me vent about stuff. You are the most beautiful girl inside and out at this school. I will not let them ruin what we have. You are my rock! So us being on the D.L. is not going to happen, ever,” He hollered.

I put my hands up in surrender. Internally I was still doubting, but there was this naggy part of me that hoped that something might come of this that I would really like. But Coop wasn’t like that.

“Okay, whatever you say. Just don’t fight anymore,” I consoled.

Just as he was about to respond the bell rang and we had to get to class.

___

It was lunch time and I was headed to the lecture hall, my favorite quite place at school. I entered the hall and I began to read a book and eat my lunch. I stayed in the hall for my entire lunch. It had been so peaceful. I didn’t have to worry about anyone making fun of me or staring at me.

As I was headed back to the Art studio, I heard screaming and saw students running. I heard gunshots. I blanked and froze. Then I saw the students with guns. I turned and headed to the nearest room, which unfortunately for me was my empty lecture hall. I felt my cell phone in my pocket vibrate. I knew that I had to get to safety before I answered it. But as I was turning the corner to get to the lecture hall, I saw two other students with handguns. I had no-where to go. There weren’t many rooms in my end of the hallway, because of the lunchroom and kitchens. So I hurried back into the lunchroom and I quietly snuck into the kitchens and I hid. I could hear the dishwashers going and water running. I didn’t hear anyone speaking. I took out my phone, dimmed the screen so it wasn’t full brightness, and I looked at my alerts.

There was a text message from the building principal telling us that we needed to remain in lockdown because of four gunmen. He also said that the police had been contacted and parents had been contacted as well.

There was a text from my mom and dad. They were both asking me if I was all right. I knew that I couldn’t call them, so I sent them a text back.

There was a text from Coop.

-Are you safe? Where r u??

I texted back: Im in the cafeteria kitchen.

A quick response returned to me: -WHAT?! There aren’t any locks on the doors to the kitchens. Please tell me that you are at least hiding in a closet or a cooler.

I texted back: No time. Both sets of gunmen were headed this way. I was cornered…nowhere else to go. I don’t know where the coolers/closets are, so I have to be very quiet and I am hiding.

The PA system crackled to life. I could hear some screams and gunshots over the PA. I could feel myself pale.

Then I heard a voice, “Good afternoon Deville High. Excuse the interruption. Would someone send Zara McMahon to the office? She has an early dismissal.”

I saw the Lunch ladies looking at me. I was wide-eyed.

Then another took over, “If you send her down we will allow the rest of the school to go free. We just want her.”

My phone vibrated with two text messages. The first one was from a number I didn’t recognize and it said: If you don’t come down to the office, we will have to go in search of you and kill anyone who is hiding you. Do you want blood on your hands? Because that is what will happen. I promise that we will find your friend Cooper Grayson first. Give yourself up.

The second text was from Cooper: Don’t you dare move! I will never forgive you!

I texted back: They said they would come for you and kill anyone who hinders them. I can’t let that happen. I’m sorry. I have to do it. The lunch ladies are still here and they don’t deserve to die because I was too cowardly to face these jerks.

A response came to me quickly: Zara, please. I beg of you. Don’t do this.

I answered: Should I survive this, I have something to tell you. I’ll see you later, Coop.

I sent off my last text and I turned off my phone. I took a breath and I looked at the lunch ladies. Then I stood up, put my phone in my back pocket of my jeans. Then I began to head for the door of the cafeteria. I felt like I was in one of those pivotal movie moments. When the protagonist is walking to confront the antagonist and the dramatic music is playing in the background. Although this was much too real for me and there was no soundtrack for me to walk to.

As I walked up the hallway towards the office, I could hear muffled yelling. I heard several gunshots. I felt upset. I hated that these terrorists were taking out people in the office. I hurried up my steps and as I got closer to the office I felt all of my fear melt away. I knew that I had to delay these monsters so that the police could get here and take care of them. I turned down the main hallway and I saw the doors to the main office. My heart was thundering beneath my breastbone. Each step I took felt like I was walking through molasses. Time felt like it was slowing to a snail’s pace.

I entered and I saw the four gunmen and I saw a fifth just sitting in the principal’s chair like he was the king of the school.

“Well, well, well, look who is here boys. The fat girl has become brave,” one of the gunmen said laughing.

“Oh dear. Well, it looks like we can’t shoot her boyfriend,” another gunman said sarcastically sad.

“Boys,” the terrorist in the chair said, “Get on with it.”

I recognized that voice. I heard that voice every day.

“Axel?! What,” I said shocked.

But before I could finish my question, I heard a gun go off, and I felt a pain in my left knee. I fell to the floor in pain.

“Awwww robo-sis has figured us out. I guess we are gonna finally get rid of her,” gloated one of the gunmen who turned out to be my brother’s cronies.

“Let them listen,” Axel said.

I looked at him and I felt betrayed. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that he was a fool. What was his issue? But I couldn’t I was too enveloped in my pain that I couldn’t deal.

I heard the PA system click on.

“So guess who showed up to the office. That’s right. It’s your girl Zara McMahon. She decided to save you all with giving up her life. So Zara, tell them your last words,” one of Axel’s friends said as one of the other friends dragged me over to where the PA handheld mic was.

“Speak, ugly,” the friend said as he hit me in the head with the mic.

“Please,” I gasped in pain.

“Please what,” that friend grinned while saying, “Oh I love it when you beg. It gets me so hard. Beg some more.”

Internally I was disgusted with his ugly words. I was hit again and I groaned in pain.

“I’m waiting,” he demanded.

I was still trying to catch my breath. I looked around the office through hazy vision and saw that the secretaries and councilors were dead and the principal was knocked out. I heard the gun go off and I screamed as it ripped through my right shoulder. I could feel my vision begin to blur more.

“Nope, you aren’t allowed to pass out yet,” he said as he slapped my face, “Get me the alcohol and pour it on her wounds. That will wake her up.”

A few minutes felt like an eternity but then my whole body felt like it was lit on fire. I screamed. I couldn’t hold it back.

“There she is,” he grinned and said.

“Enough Dev,” I heard Axel state, “Finish it. We’re going to have company shortly.”

I didn’t see the response but I did feel my hair get pulled so I wasn’t slumped over and the mic was shoved into my face.

“Last words,” Dev said.

I took a breath and looked right in Axel’s eyes and said, “Axel McMahon, Devon Newton, Rafe Ainsley, Jaxon Willis, and Chase Tobin. I’m sorry. I love you.”

I was promptly thrown to the floor and I felt the rain of bullets hit my body. My hearing muffled and it was hard to breathe. Dying wasn’t easy. I was gasping for breath and choking on my own blood. Finally, my vision blacked and I felt all of the tension leave my body.

___

I heard beeping. Steady beeping. I wiggled my fingers and felt something on my pointer finger. I opened my eyes slowly and I felt a nose cannula wrapped around my head feeding me oxygen. I saw that I was in a hospital bed. I tried to pick up my hand and found that I was shackled to the bed. I heard the door open and I saw two armed men, a nurse, and a doctor.

“Welcome back Miss Erye,” the doctor said.

“That’s not my name,” I croaked out in a lower octave voice.

I was shocked at just how low and sexy my voice was sounding. It was probably from being unconscious.

“You might be feeling a bit confused. Your name is Lillith Erye, Mistress of Death. Or at least that is what our files say you are called,” the doctor informed me.

“No, my name is Zara McMahon. I was in a school shooting. I was shot several times. The school was Deville High,” I said slightly panicked.

“I’m sorry Miss Erye, but you are in a black facility after Dark Warden stopped your dastardly plan and captured you. We put you into a simulation to rehab you,” the doctor stated.

“The murders, the fighting, everything that I remember. Was it real,” I asked devastated.

“No. We installed false memories in you. It was the only way we could ensure your compliance,” the doctor replied.

I turned my head away and cried.

[sheepydraws]

I’ll Kick Your Ass! I’ll Kick My Fiancee’s Ass! I’ll Kick My Own Ass! (8/11)

Facebook Messenger, Group Chat

Ryoga: My phone’s out of commission for a few days, so don’t try to call or text.

Shampoo: Ha! I told you that case wasn’t indestructible

Ukyo: Did you drop it into a jet engine or something?

Ryoga: Worse. Akari found a tumblr with pictures of me dueling Ranma. For Akane.

Shampoo: Oh shit!!!

Ukyo: So she bashed your phone in?

Ryoga: Akari is a very gentle, creative, pissed off person. She wouldn’t do something like that.

Scrawled in every public restroom between Ryoga’s flat and Sheffield in permanent marker:

LOOKING TO GET DICKED DOWN.

MEN ONLY, THE BIGGER (PERVERTS) THE BETTER.

PLEASE CALL/TEXT/SEND NUDES TO: [Number Redacted]

NO NAMES, JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU’D DO TO ME

Ranma’s Diary

Of course I was going to drive up with Nabiki and Akane, but now dad expects me to stay  with them, too. Something about our heater not working. The problem is lack of cash flow, not a busted valve, but the Tendos have guest rooms and tons of food, so I wasn’t going to complain.

‘cept the Tendos also have world war three going on right now, and I’d almost rather go home and try my luck with the space heater than listen to another meltdown.

Akane dropped the P-Bomb on her dad on our way home. She’s been flat and distant ever since she heard, and then she just blurts it out. Interrupts Nabiki and “Car Talk” mid-sentence. Nabiki’s mouth shut so fast it clicked, and Soun turned the radio off, even though he didn’t believe Akane till he saw the video.

We spent the next hour skidding along the freeway while Soun talked, mostly to himself, asking questions like, ‘How are we going to afford this?’ and ‘She doesn’t even date, how could this have happened?’, that no one could answer.

I felt pretty fucking awkward, listening to this guy I don’t really know monologue at his only daughter who wasn’t there, but Akane got all bright and shiny. She went from looking like a zombie to having apple cheeks, and smiling at me. Holding my hand and telling me that this was a family thing that I shouldn’t worry about—even though I might marry her? So it would be my family thing too? And her hands are really soft but they have really distinct calluses so they aren’t just floppy mush, but I didn’t want to think about that so we played hangman in her totally-not-a-diary till we used words that would make urban dictionary queasy and we had to stop.

It was interesting watching the reverse with Kasumi. One second she’s stirring away at a risotto for lunch, flushed with the steam, the next minute she’s snow pale with two red spots on her cheeks cause she’s still stirring the risotto.

First Soun was mad because of the money, but Kasumi claims she has a lot of money from her videos. Then he was mad because she doesn’t want to move out. She says it’s more sensible, and the baby can stay in her room for the first few years, and after that hopefully Nabiki will have moved out. I think Nabiki would have been pissed off that Kasumi was making decisions for her, if she hadn’t looked like she was considering climbing out the kitchen window to get away.

Now Soun is mad because Kasumi won’t tell him who the father is. She won’t even say if she did it artificially or not. Kasumi isn’t budging on this. Every time Soun brings it up her lips go thin and she burns whatever she’s cooking. Not that there isn’t plenty of pound cake, fudge, fried rice, casseroles, and whatever else Kasumi thinks up. Part of it is because of the holidays, but most of it is because it keeps her busy. I’m not complaining, but it’d be nice to eat in peace.

Facebook Messenger

Ukyo: So has your girlfriend murdered you yet?

Ryoga: Akari wouldn’t do that. She’s left rotten eggs on my doorstep, tried to send me a computer virus, and apparently gave every degenerate in England my phone number, but I don’t think she’s working up to murder.

Ukyo: I tried to warn you, man. Love makes you go bananas.

Ryoga: Uh-huh…

Ukyo: What?

Ryoga: Uh, I saw you kiss Shampoo.

Ukyo: She kissed me. She felt guilty for hiding things from me. It was a one time thing.

Ryoga: Right.

Ukyo: Look, have I noticed that Shampoo is pretty? Yes. Is she really funny and not afraid to laugh till she shoots soda out of her nose? Yes. Do I feel comfortable around her and like how it feels when I wake up in the middle of the night and can hear her breathing? Of course, I’m human. Have I pictured her wearing stockings and a garter belt? Maybe, but I’ve pictured you doing the same thing, so I’m going to put that down as normal human urge as well. You’re great, and so is Shampoo, but I’m not in love with either of you.

Ukyo: Ryoga? You there?

Ryoga: Sorry, I think someone just hurled a burned sponge cake at my window. I have to deal with this.

Ryoga: It was full of jam and cream.

Ryoga: Like how you’re full of shit.

Ukyo: If I like Shampoo, explain why wasn’t I upset when I heard she had kissed you.

Nabiki Tendo’s Bank Statement.

December 18th Withdrawal.

From: Savings

To: Patreon, Kasumi Tendo [Donated as: ANONYMOUS]

Amount: 5,137.56

Comment: N/A

Kodachi’s Journal:

I DON’T WANT TO WRITE A CHRISTMAS POEM, JESUS H CHRIST.

EVEN IF TATEWAKI IS MY BROTHER HE CAN’T JUST BARGE INTO MY ROOM RANTING ABOUT PHOTOS AND FAMILIAL LOVE AND LOW RISE JEANS (seriously why is he so obsessed with those? No one has been into low rise jeans since Britney Spears had kids.) AND WHEN I TELL HIM TO FUCK OFF BACK TO HIS ROOM HE SAYS I SHOULD WRITE A NICE POEM ABOUT SNOW AND ANGELS AND GOOD FOOD, “Like Keats” HE SAYS.

WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT KEATS? I’VE GOT A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND LIKE, I AM SO SICK OF HAVING SPRAINED ANKLES AND WRISTS AND BROKEN TOES. I LOVE GYMNASTICS, BUT I’M KIND OF SICK OF IT? LIKE, I SHOULD BE TRAVELING TO A MATCH RIGHT NOW, INSTEAD OF KEEPING MY LEG ELEVATED, BUT I’M HONESTLY SO SICK OF THIS SHIT I DON’T EVEN CARE. I REALLY LIKE MY TEAMMATES, BUT THE ACTUAL GYMNASTICS BIT?

FUCK, I USED TO SNEAK INTO THE GYM OR PRACTICE MOVES IN MY ROOM WHEN I WAS INJURED. I LOVED THE TWINGES OF PAIN. IT WAS EXHILARATING. Now it’s just like…Pain hurts.

AND SO DOES MY BROTHER, TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO WRITE WHILE HE GOES TO HIS ROOM TO JERK OFF TO PHOTOS OF GIRLS WITH DOLLAR BILLS IN THE THONGS STICKING OUT OF THEIR JEANS OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE DOES. I’LL WRITE A ODESSY OF SCORCHING HEAT AND DEMONS, FUCK YOU VERY MUCH.

Not Anal

Mousse doesn’t work for grandmother anymore. She fired him for trying to knife one of my friends. The new girl is pretty nice. Her name is Konatsu. She’s one of those people who catches on to things pretty quickly and probably is good at math or dancing or something, but is still a total idiot.

Example: I’m telling her about a soap opera she’s thinking about starting, and I say, “The sex scenes are really good, too. If that sweetens the pot for you.”

She stares at me blankly. “What?”

“They’re really passionate, you know? It doesn’t feel like they’re posing for the camera.”

“What does that mean?”

That was when I remembered that this girl is like sixteen doing part time, and maybe she honestly has no idea what I’m talking about. “A-a lot of the time it feels like they’re being directed, and it’s really obvious. Like you can kind of hear someone saying, ‘okay, now moan, and make sure to turn your head so you’re facing the camera’, you know?”

“What does ‘sweeten the pot’ mean. Is that a euphemism?”

See? Lights are on, but nobody’s home.

She’s still better than Mousse.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot, though. Now that he’s ignoring me I can think about him without getting a ‘speak of the devil’ feeling creeping up my back. I can even run through the good memories without worrying I’ll want to get back together with him.

Studying at his house, coming with him when he dog sat for his neighbor and then getting into their pool, challenging each other to speed eating contests with jello packs in the cafeteria. Mousse could be a lot of fun when we were bored and actively trying to come up with ways to get into trouble.

I like that I can think about the sex again, too. Mousse was never as pushy about sex as he was about us getting back together. He was kind of surprised the first time I said, in the same tone I said things like, ‘How many of these milk cartons do you think we could drink before someone yells at us?’, or, ‘no, that’s probably illegal’,

“Do you think we could get away with having sex?”

We planned it out like a jewel heist. He would have to come to my house since his bike was kept on his front porch and mine was always in our foyer. I’d make sure the kitchen window was unlocked so that grandma and mom wouldn’t wake up at the sound of the door opening. Then he’d have to creep up the stairs, skipping almost every other step to avoid creaking.

Honestly, I think I spent more time being excited about the smuggling a boy into my room thing than the actual losing my virginity bit. But that part was pretty nice.

If Mousse had wanted to move away from here, or just been okay when I said I wanted to, we might still be together. Or would it have been even messier because I would have fallen for Ukyo and Ryoga anyway? I keep thinking of dating Mousse as ‘simpler times’ but who am I kidding?

Forwarded To: Ranma Saotome From: Nancy Sulivan Junior

Private Materials

Certification of Report of Birth (of a United States Citizen)

Ayame Saotome

[Information Ranma already knew]

Father: Genma Saotome                            Mother: Nodoka Saotome (Née Kumon)

Nodoka Saotome’s Facebook Profile:

In her icon Nodoka is a handsome woman in her early forties with doe eyes that make her look younger than she is. They are Ranma’s eyes. His hair too, he thinks. Not that he can tell when his father has been bald for as long as he can remember.

Her banner photo is Japanese calligraphy, saying something about honor and passion. Her description says she works at a dojo, and her public albums show her working with children in oversized gi’s and heavy belts.

She looks happy.

Of course she does, it’s fucking facebook. No one posts sad shit on facebook. No one writes about leaving their husband and losing their child. They don’t write about how much they miss that kid every single day and pray that somehow they’ll find them again over those obnoxious tri-fade backgrounds.

Ranma would never admit that he was hoping for it.

From: KasumiTendo96@yahoo.com

To: IluvuLuaura@hotmail.com

Laura, things are such a mess. I’m glad you suggested I write it out. I couldn’t explain it over the phone, when all I wanted was to hear you joke about how your day went. (Sidenote: You should put that egg story in one of your videos. It was hilarious).

I wish I had been able to warn my family about this. Springing it on them three months in hasn’t been easy for them. I thought if I waited until I knew I was pregnant they would all be too excited to worry too much or try to talk me out of it. I thought pregnancy had this magical effect on people, where they suddenly became too happy to worry, but my family has far too much to be worried about.

Nabiki sent me her entire savings account. Every cent. She tried to do it anonymously through patreon, but I knew it was her. She was bragging about how much she had saved up last month, and I don’t believe some generous person just happened to drop that exact amount into my paypal. I sent it back to her, and I tried to explain that I have plenty, but she said, “Kasumi, there is a reason I have been on birth control since I was fourteen—Kids are the worst investment on the planet. They eat money, and you can’t expect any returns.”

I reminded her that she got on birth control because she spent months telling dad about how painful and irregular her cycle was until he just wanted her to shut up about her uterus. She said that was also part of it. I know she sounds heartless (she does try so hard to give off that impression) but she was trying to be kind, and realistic.

Akane is mostly confused. She keeps asking all these question about how it feels, and what I’m allowed to do or not. I’m not sure if she’s excited or concerned, or just curious. She was the one who told dad about it, and I’ll be honest, it was a bit of a relief to have it out. If only dad hadn’t absolutely lost it. He’s angry, and I’m angry at him for being angry, but I understand why he’s so upset.

“You know, adoption is still an option.”

“So, when did you actually know? Is it kicking?”

“I don’t understand Kasumi. How did this happen? You’re a smart girl.”

No one wants to talk about the baby, though.

Wait, no. I was making macaroons yesterday, and Ranma came in from his morning run and said, “I always liked flower names for girls.”

I had no idea what he was taking about for a minute, but it did get me to look up from my macaroon piping. “What?”

“Like Violet and Rose and Daisy. I always thought they were cute. For guys you’ve got to have something solid. Something you can build a house on, you know? Like Jordan.” He nodded once, as though it was decided, and popped a cookie into his mouth before his father burst into the kitchen. He and Ranma started talking about run times while I clutched my piping bag and tried not to cry. They say pregnancy is emotional, but I think they’re only referring to the one whose pregnant.

Anyway, thank you for listening, Laura. Hugs and kisses<3

From: iluvulaura@hotmail.com

To: KasumiTendo96@gmail.com

Hey, hun, I finally had time to sit down and read your e-mail, and I’m sorry I can’t get down the coast again to be with you. I know I wouldn’t be much help, but you sound like what you need right now is a good hard squeeze and a friendly face.

Tho, I’ve got to say, maybe it would help if you told them how you did it? Maybe they wouldn’t be as neurotic if they weren’t imaging some clueless dude out there paying for his coffee at starbucks, with no idea he’s going to be a father.

You took charge of your live, hun, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Otherwise, I think what they need is time. Right now they’re probably all thinking that this is still reversible, you know? They’re in shock.

Hey, what if you took the train up to me? See NYC under the christmas lights? I’m kind of busy, but the city is full of stuff to do. You could relax a little, eat some takeout, maybe do your christmas shopping? We could do another collab! Maybe a QandA to post between Christmas and New Years?

Maybe the best thing for you all is a little space.

Ranma’s Diary:

I got up at two in the morning and went to piss. It wouldn’t be worth writing down if I hadn’t seen the kitchen light on and found Kasumi in there. She was pouring herself a glass of milk.

“Are you doing that pregnant lady thing where you drink three glasses of milk every day?” I asked.

She laughed in this super high pitched, chirpy way that creeped me the fuck out. “No, I just woke up craving it.” She rubbed her stomach. Or, her uterus, I guess. “I’m already having trouble getting comfortable lying down.”

“That sucks.” I said. “Do you think it would feel better if you got into your pajamas?”

Kasumi did that ‘five nights at snow white’s’ laugh again. “I totally forgot. It gets so cold in my room sometimes I don’t want to take my clothes off long enough to get changed.”

“Okay.” I said, because I didn’t really care, but at the same time I was getting really freaked out. I looked past Kasumi for a second, at the dining room, and I saw a rolling suitcase lying under the dining room table.

I could have asked, I should have, but Kasumi’s an adult, right? Also, she might have done that laugh thing again, and every time she did I felt like a demon was creeping up on me.

So I said good night and went back to bed

Now all anyone can talk about is the fact that Kasumi has disappeared, and I want to say something, but then I might have to talk about what happened next.

I went back upstairs

Forget it. I’m sure Kasumi’s safe, and everyone is all freaking out over nothing. So she wants to be alone for a while. Can you blame her?

Akane’s Diary

I feel like this is my fault somehow. I heard something weird the night she left, I know I did, but I ignored it.

And why did I ignore it?

I woke up in the middle of the night to Ranma on the stairs right outside my door. He was just standing there, one foot on the stairs, the other on the landing.

“Ranma?” I whispered.

He jumped. “Akane?”

“What are you doing?”

He came to stand in my doorway, a black silhouette against the yellow of the hall light. “I couldn’t remember where my gi was. I left it on the couch.”

I squinted at him, trying to see his expression. “Were you up?”

“No, I woke up.” He waved his hand and added, “It’s not important.”

His voice was kind of thick and raspy from sleep. It was nice. It reminded me of…

I’m such a fucking idiot.

Of course it was Ranma on Halloween. Guess what everyone, I’ve figured out the meaning of life! It is TO MAKE FUN OF ME.

I should have told him to go to bed and then tried to go back to sleep and forget about it. Sure, he was about the right height, and his voice sounded similar, and when I couldn’t see his face it seemed really obvious, but that didn’t mean he was Batman. Anyone can be short and do a decent batman impression.

“Could you come here?” I asked.

He hesitated, but then he came and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Closer.”

He slid down the side of the bed till our faces were just a couple of inches apart. From that close I could see him properly, so I closed my eyes and tried to pretend the air was crisp, and my armor was digging into my shoulders, and everything smelled like alcohol and cheap plastic.

“What is it?” Ranma whispered.

“What were you for Halloween this year?”

Utter silence.

I guess it was better than a lie.

“Wow.” I said, really stretching out the word, “Wuh-ow.” I started laughing at the way my own voice sounded. “Of course. I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Look, Akane, I didn’t even know it was you until-“ I knew what he was going to say. It all clicked inside my head. That was why he ran. Because why deal with things in a civilized way when you could just let fight or flight take over. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence.”

“I swear I wasn’t trying to-“

I heaved my pillow at him. “Get out!” I whisper yelled, because I didn’t want anyone finding him in my room. I went to shove him off my bed, but he dodged and stood up himself.

Something about not being able to make contact, not being able to feel a satisfying weight against my palms, made me even madder. I chased him out of my room saying, “You asshole, you fucking asshole!”

He tried to reason with me again at my door.

“This is why I didn’t say anything about it! I knew you would react like this.” His expression softened a little. “Maybe it’s a good thing? We had fun, right? If we get married-“

“We aren’t getting married.” I said, and to my horror my voice broke at the end of the sentence and I started crying. I’ve never cried like that before, sudden streaming tears. “I don’t care what our dads say, I make my own decisions. I am never going to marry you, Ranma.”

And then Ranma said the exact thing I didn’t want him to say.

“But if you’re trying to do the opposite of what they want, are you really making your own decision?”

I closed the door on him. I waited until I heard his footsteps on the stairs again, and then I slid to my knees, forehead pressed to the wood, and kept crying. I haven’t been this confused since I was eight years old and I started doing things wrong. When I started feeling strange in my own skin. It wasn’t me though, it wasn’t my fault. It was everyone else who was suddenly obsessed with boys and girls and their difference, and which side I was on.

At least then on some level the answer was easy. I mean, I know who I am. It was everyone else I had to convince.

All this stuff with Ranma makes me feel like no matter which way I go I’m always rubbed the wrong way. Like something slices into me, but it’s corkscrew shaped so no matter which way I turn it cuts me so half of my skin peels away. I want to be my own person, I want to decide who I marry, but now I feel like I want Ranma to be an option as well.

I was thinking about shit like this and trying to find a good metaphor when I heard something that I swear was the kitchen window opening and closing. I swear, there was the little squeal it has, and a thud as it shut again. I’m sure that was what it was.

But I was too busy thinking about myself and my unmasked man.

I’m such an idiot.

From: TexmexTesco@gmail.com

To: prettyporkchop@gmail.com

Akari, since you’ve blocked me on everything and refuse to talk to me in real life, I thought I might at least try to explain myself here.

I never cheated on you. I did duel a guy for a date with a girl, but it wasn’t just because I wanted to date the girl. It’s complicated, but the guy is a jerk and the girl thought the best way to get him to leave her alone would be if someone bested him in combat.

I didn’t even win.

I understand if you don’t want to be together anymore, but I want you to know that I never went out with Akane, or kissed her, or anything like that. I want you to know that I still have my honor.

All my love,

Ryoga.

P.S: At least stop indirectly attacking me? I have now seen enough dick pics and rotten eggs to last a life time.

Latest post from fuckboisgetmoney.tumblr.com

Big sis done got knocked up and run away, little sis’s engagement dangles by a thread, and the middle child is involved in a blackmail mexican stand off.

We’re a god damn soap opera.

#at least i like soap operas #no one’s getting laid tho

Kasumi Tendo’s instagram(@riceandsalt): A photo of one of the infamous Black Tap milkshakes, a cake batter milkshake with a frosting and sprinkle covered rim, garnished with a hefty slice of funfetti cake, whipped cream, and a cherry.

A photo of Laura wearing a blanket cape, posed dramatically in front of a window overlooking a snowy city.

A photo of Kasumi’s nails, freshly painted pink and white, with cutsey teddy bears on the thumb. The work is professional, and quite good at that.

A photo of Kasumi, standing sideways in front of a mirror, her sweater tucked into her bra so you can see the beginning of a baby bump. The skin on her stomach is pink in a line across the top where her lap top was just resting. Description: After #iluvuLaura and I posted the AMA I got a lot of questions asking for #babybump photos, so here’s a quick one❤️.

ILuvULaura’s Latest Video: Christmas QandA with Kasumi Tendo! [Published December 23rd]

The girls are sitting on the chairs in Luara’s kitchen, snow falling in the windows behind them. You can see the photos hanging from Laura’s fridge, her family back in Newport, her last dog, her graduation photo. On the bar just behind the two of them are mugs with tea for Laura and hot chocolate for Kasumi. They look relaxed, Kasumi leaning back in her chair, one hand resting on her stomach.

Laura: So, I know this says it’s a Christmas Q and A, but since Kasumi’s involved there were a lot of pregnancy questions.

Kasumi: And isn’t that was Christmas is all about? [laughter]

Laura: I’m just saying. Actually I want to get a couple of the most common pregnancy questions out of the way first.

Kasumi: Right, right. I think the three biggest ones were, ‘when are you due?’, ‘what will the name be?’ and… [She glances at Laura, a little uncomfortable with the next part]

Laura: Yeah, there were a TON of people asking about the father.

Kasumi. Yeah. Anyway, I’m due sometime in May, although I don’t put much stock in that. All three of us, my sisters and I, we were born wildly off the mark for the due date.

Laura: Really?

Kasumi: I was born almost a month early—well, earlier than the due date, I wasn’t actually premature. Nabiki was two weeks late, and the doctor who did Akane’s first ultrasound got everything fucked up and she was really small, so she was born two months before anyone expected her.

Laura: [Laughs] That’s so weird. I was right on time. Like, the exact day.

Kasumi: Your mom probably went to a better doctor than mine.

[They laugh and swap childhood anecdotes. It’s an all around good time for everyone but the Tendo family watching at home.]

Ranma’s Diary

I like being legal, but around Christmas I always miss being a kid. Being excited and selfish and doing all the cheesy traditions with a huge grin, and dreaming about the toys I would get—Christmas is the best when you’re a kid. I always got cool stuff, too. I could always count on my dad.

This year I couldn’t think of any shit I wanted. I asked dad for one of those fancy pedometers that tracks your heart rate and stuff, and some sweaters. The only thing I was excited about was whatever Kasumi was going to make for dinner, but she’s in New York.

Oh, yeah, turns out she was staying with a friend. Soun lost his shit. He straight up had her reported missing when she’d been gone twenty-four hours, and now that he knows where she is he’s on a train up there to drag her back.

It’s going to be nuts, but right now we’re waiting around and eating all the food Kasumi left. Dad’s at the gym. I think he’s pissed about something, but who cares. It gave me like five hours to stare at mom’s facebook page.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, man. I gotta fix things with Akane, and my mom, and Kasumi, and maybe all the Tendos, but I don’t even know where to start.

Okay, wait, I know what I want for Christmas. I want Soun and Kasumi to get back at like three am tonight and scream at each other in the living room, but then cry and make up. That’s what Ukyo and I did and

Last five posts from okinomiyakimeansiloveyou.tumblr.com:

5. Mean Girls gif set

4. I’m telling you, this whole ‘no romantic relationships thing is pretty sweet. Like, you know what dating leads to? ENGAGEMENT. Fuck. I know a guy who’s engaged, but not exactly. It’s a whole thing. Anyway, he calls me up on Christmas eve eve and says, “How do you apologize for kissing someone?” cause he masked man-ed HIS OWN FIANCE.

So, after I finished laughing, I said, “Dude, you’ve got two options. You can try to tell her she’s just THAT charismatic and you couldn’t help yourself,”

“She’ll fucking kill me,”

“Or you can just apologize. There’s nothing else for it. She wanted to kiss you right?”

“I guess. When she thought I wasn’t me.”

“Well, it’s fucked up, but honestly it’s so fucked up all you can say is sorry. You can’t talk your way out of this. Just apologize and let her go from there.”

LIKE I HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.

I mean, between this and my boy Ryoga having to deal with a semester of pent up anger from his ex, and my girl Shampoo crushing on him (or maybe just giving us all the runaround) I don’t care what people say. Not being in a relationship rocks. You don’t have to deal with any of this shit, and people still come to you for advice.

What? Yeah I’ve had three eggnogs. I’m drunk and sugar high and single and it is a good day to be alive.

3. A gif of Purity Ring lyrics overlayed on a background of patterns shifting color hypnotically.

2. Fucing rum man. Fucking A shit

1. But, like, what, if RyeRye and Shammy do gety together? Are they gonna fuck me out? I like those fuckers so much I don’t wanna be just some friend that intorduced them. Also, it’s totally not even right now. I have to kiss Rye Rye. Then it’s even,,,,right? Yeah. I wanna see how he compares. Like sHAMMY’S GOT THAT GOOD SHTI WHERE SHE LEANS IN AND HER BREASTS GET PRESSED UP AGAINST YOURS AND SHE SMEELLS LIKE A MEDAOW BUT RYRRYE’S GOT THAT SQUARE JAW whoops that was capslock, and he smells like fresh deoderant and liene annd I mean I just gotta check for sciense. Yes. Science. Goooood.

Facebook Messenger

Shampoo: MARRY CHRISTMAS! 🎊

Shampoo: Btw, did you get a weird drunk dial from Ukyo at like two am this morning?

Ryoga: It was seven over here.

Shampoo: So you were on the other line! I thought I could hear you, but Ukyo kept talking over you.

Ryoga: Did you understand anything they were saying?

Shampoo: Not really. Something about love. I think it was the love doesn’t exist spiel.

Ryoga: I thought that might be it. It sounded sort of like she was telling us not to get together????

Shampoo: That’s so weird. Why would he think of that?

Ryoga: I don’t know.

Ryoga: We did kiss.

Shampoo: But you had a girlfriend then. And then I kissed Ukyo, so it’s all even.

Ryoga: Actually, I haven’t kissed Ukyo.

Shampoo: Do you want to?

Ryoga: Maybe then she would feel better? We’d all be on a level playing field.

Shampoo: I feel like this is sliding into threeway territory.

Ryoga: yeah

From: iluvulaura@hotmail.com

To: KasumiTendo96@gmail

Kasumi, are you alright? You seemed okay when you left but I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Your dad was really pissed.

Merry Chirstmas, by the way. I hope you’re happy and with loved ones.

From: Kasumitendo96@gmail

To: iluvulaura@hotmail

Oh lord. Laura, are you sitting down?

First of all, I’m fine. Yes, dad was pissed, but he had the right. If my kid did something like this I’d be worried sick too.

We cried a lot on the train ride home. People were looking at us weird and avoiding us as they walked down the aisle. We were both crying so hard, and the train was barely heated so our noses were just pouring snot. Basically everyone is scared and worried and we’re all really confused right now.

Honestly? I thought this was going to be easier. At least the pregnancy bit! But I think it would be like this even if I was married and everything was a little more conventional. There would still be crazy questions and fears, and late night crying jags. Only things might have gotten off on a slightly better foot.

But it’s good to be home. I think everyone has at least accepted what is happening. I’m making a belated Christmas dinner with all the favorites, which won’t be ready till tomorrow, but just the thought has perked everyone up. Akane is trying to help, and is telling me about all the crazy pregnancy stuff she’s learned on the internet. I’m telling her what’s totally fake and what is mostly fake.

Nabiki is talking about preschools, and how the really good ones require you to get on a waiting list NOW, and it turns out that while everyone else was panicking over where I was, she was buying a crib and setting it up in my room.

Dad’s been telling stories about when we were all babies. Some of them are funny, and some are mildly terrifying, especially the ones involving the dojo. Dad noticed that I looked really worried and he said, “You really can drop a kid on their head a few times, and they’ll still turn out just fine. Don’t worry if you fuck up a little.” which didn’t exactly make me feel better,

but I didn’t feel worse either, so…

Oh, and Ranma.

Hoo-boy. This is the part I thought you might want to sit down for.

When I got home Ranma was waiting for me in my room. He was sitting on my bed with his laptop, but he was cross legged with his eyes closed like he’d been meditating or something.  He scared me out of my skin.

“Kasumi,” He said, like he hadn’t just ambushed me in my own room. “I have to ask you something.”

I closed my bedroom door and put my bag down. “What is it?”

“What would you think if your kid was trans? And your sister wasn’t.” He added.

I sat down on my bed. “I don’t know if I can really answer that. I remember how I felt when Akane came out.” It was sometime before her senior year. It was ridiculously hot in the kitchen. I was making lemon bars for something I don’t even remember-lemon bars, the easiest things in the world!-and I was sweating bullets, and Akane walked up behind me and started lecturing me on the history of the trans movement in America and the fluidity of gender. I half thought she had a school project on it until she got to the point. “I was surprised mostly. It was in the news a bit more then, but you know how it is. You think of it as something that happens to other people’s brothers.”

Ranma nodded, but he had this flat look on his face that said I hadn’t really answered his question. “Right, but would you have felt different if it had been your kid?”

I tried to think about it, I really did, but I just can’t say. “I might be a little more worried about them. I mean, Akane was almost eighteen. I knew it was her decision to make. I think if my child said that their gender was different than expected I might be more concerned about how that would effect them, but I want them to be happy. If that’s a part of their happiness I would have to support them.”

Ranma seemed a little more satisfied after that, but then he said, “Now pretend you’re like twenty years older and come from a more traditional family. What would you think of it then?”

At that point I threw my hands up and told him I couldn’t answer for anyone else. That was when he’d told me he’d tracked down his mother (I mean, it wasn’t hard. She lives a few hours from Ranma’s school in the opposite direction from our town and she has a facebook account) and he wanted to talk to her. Only he can’t because she thinks she has and daughter out there somewhere and, well…

Oh, Laura I can’t talk about it too much, but he got all choked up and then wouldn’t cry, which was worse. Listening to him trying to explain it all when his throat was closed off and he was shaking…I held him for a while but I don’t know what to do. If my kid is trans or gay or queer it won’t matter as much because there’s Akane. But for Ranma…He doesn’t really know his mother’s family, so he has no idea how they would react.

Although…Ah, I don’t want to write this, it’s so indulgent, but it made my heart so warm.

I had to stop hugging Ranma because it was a little awkward, us both sitting and his legs pulled up like they were, and then he said, “You’re going to make a good mother.”

I said, “All I did was listen and give you a hug. I don’t think that’s all there is to mothering.”

“That’s all I want my mother to do when I see her.”

I worry about Ranma, but then again I don’t. I think even if his mother jilts him, he’s strong enough to handle it. And he knows he has somewhere to go if he isn’t.

Kodachi’s Journal

Freezing temperatures

Snow long since tracked away

The buzzing of new years clackers fades.

Boredom hangs low and grey as the sun

You can’t look at your brother without fighting.

Oh Ranma.

Either you have taken me for a ride

Or you owe me one.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Seeing as we seem to have reached MAD, may I inquire as to the health of your pregnant friend?

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

You are lucky I’m bored, and shocked, and get to rub your face in the fact that the courtesan and the accountant were banging.

Yeah, she’s all better after a relaxing trip to New York.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

New York? Wouldn’t being in a city that big be somewhat dangerous to someone in her condition?

Also, it’s a soap opera. I’m sure there will be another reversal of fortune eventually.

From: TKuno

To:NabikiTendo

She’s pregnant, not a blown glass ornament. Women have been having babies since forever. We’re pretty good at it.

Also, you are such a reacher. Did you see the sex scene between C and A? Now that was chemistry.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Women have also being dying from complications since forever. I only wish you understand that I am sincere in my desire to for your friend to be healthy. I think that baring children is one of the noblest acts of mankind.

Also, I will not debate the merits of various sex scenes with you.

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

You got anything better to do?

Facebook Messenger

Shampoo: We should stop talking about this.

Ryoga: If you want to.

Shampoo: I don’t know. It feels inappropriate.

Ryoga: It’s not like we work together or anything.

Shampoo: I know.

Shampoo: But why does Ukyo have to be involved?

Ryoga: They don’t. This doesn’t have to be anything. We’re just talking.

Shampoo: Talking leads to doing and doing leads to pregnancy.

Ryoga: I think I know how to put a condom on.

Shampoo: You’ve had sex before?

Ryoga: No. Not sex-sex. But the condom bit is easy.

Shampoo: You and Akari never fucked??? And she’s still this mad?

Ryoga: She’s a bit less mad now. We’re not talking, but she’s stopped actively trying to fuck me up.

Ryoga: Also, does having sex make a difference?

Shampoo: I think so. Stuff changes. After Mousse and I did it we got closer. And we thought we were really slick too, never talking about it in public, just doing long lingering glances. And touching more. We were more comfortable with that.

Ryoga: Why would that make it worse when you broke up?

Shampoo: We did The Thing. I think we both sort of felt like that really meant something. Like maybe we’d last.

Ryoga: But that’s what high schoolers think. We’re in college now.

Shampoo: So why didn’t you and Akari do it?

Ryoga: We were always going to do it. We were always planning on it. We were always going to get there…

Shampoo: Buuuuuut?

Ryoga: It felt like something we couldn’t take back.

Shampoo: Yeah, like after that you have to be together forever.

Shampoo: This is why we should stop talking about this. And never mention it in front of Ukyo. Ukyo doesn’t believe in forever, and I don’t want to feel like we’re using her.

Ryoga: But I don’t want to use her. I want…

Shampoo: yeah

Akane’s Diary

POSSIBLE WAYS I COULD GET OUT OF SPENDING TWO HOURS IN A CAR WITH RANMA:

1. Fake illness too severe for me to make the drive. (That would be pretty hard to fake without getting sent to the doctor. It would mean dad would have to make the drive twice, which he would be kind of hard on him. If anyone found out I was faking I might have to explain. Kasumi would take care of me and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.

2. Injure Ranma so that he is at the hospital when we leave. (If I suddenly broke Ranma’s leg I would probably wind up in therapy. Also, the bag of dicks probably deserves an education. Or something)

3. Call a cab and leave early in the morning. (Do you know how much a two-hour cab ride would cost?! Dad would murder me, but not before making me explain why I did it)

4. Steal our car early in the morning. (See above.)

Maybe I’ll just stay up really late the night before and sleep in the car. Being unconscious is kind of like not being there, right?