#I chose wrong and told her and got massively punished | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sondepoch · 3 years

Text

Lighter (3/5)

Breaking the Collar

Nine months in the human trafficking circuit has destroyed every sense of normality you ever knew. For you, it's commonplace to be ordered on your knees for your owner, his clients, anyone else Childe deems necessary—and you've reached a point where you accept it this misery, just going along with the motions of life because there's nothing else to do.

Diluc and Kaeya change that.

They enter your life on a regular workday afternoon, stepping inside Childe's massive office under the pretense of sorting out a business deal, but a single hastily written message makes it clear that they're not here to hurt you: they're here to help you.

The only issue is that you have no idea how to escape Childe.

MASTERLIST

There’s something demeaning about the outfit Childe has picked for you today. It’s nothing unlike what he had you wear when he last took you outside the apartment, when he brought you on a train to Xiangling’s restaurant, but the blouse and skirt he has you in today are looser than before, and skimpier, too.

The thought confuses you until you realize that it’s because where you were previously dressed like a regular girl, in fairly modest clothes that were designed to shy away from attention, you’re now dressed like a slave once more: like a little sex toy that can only wear thin, loose clothes so her owner, alongside all her owner’s friends, can have easy access to the pretty tits and cunt beneath.

It should make you sick.

Yet, as Childe slips his hand underneath your skirt to grip your thigh, the only thing that disgusts you is how easily you find yourself relaxing into his touch.

“Angel,” Childe murmurs into your ear, voice hovering lowly under the quiet buzz of the van you both sit in. “Angel, I have a present for you.”

That catches your attention. You turn your head to your owner, eyebrows lifted in confusion, as Childe pulls a box from his pocket.

Immediately, you know what’s inside.

The first few gifts Childe gave you were all varied: the very first was, of course, the necklace he gave you in place of the ugly, metal collar all the other girls have to wear. The second was his jacket, too tattered for him to use anymore but literal paradise for someone like you, who had already grown used to spending every waking moment naked. Then, his presents began to come in the shape of services rather than material objects—the decision to allow you to sleep on a bed, the decision to let you eat better-quality meals, the decision to spare you from being sent to Scaramouche for a beating as punishment for a stupid blunder you once made—but after a certain period, Childe had granted you all the freedom he could give.

Then, his presents had to change.

He began gifting you jewels, all of them in different colors but always unfairly expensive, to make your collar sparkle.

You make no haste in opening the black, velvet box Childe gives you, eyes bright. You don’t think twice about how embarrassing it is that he’s conditioned you to associate these little gemstones (probably worth mere pennies to a man as wealthy as Childe) with happiness, but even you can’t keep the smile off your face as you snap open the box and see a blue twinkle staring back at you.

“It’s a sapphire,” Childe explains, pulling the gemstone out by the short, silver chain it dangles from. “Since you told me that you like colorful stones.”

You remember saying that. It was true: being Childe’s favored toy meant that you were always by his side; it gave you no room for pastimes, and so you found that the most entertaining thing to do was toy with the shiny stones that dangled off your collar and angle them into the light to trace patterns into the ceiling. It’s an activity that works best with larger, colorful stones: the dainty diamonds Childe always used to gift you didn’t work half as well.

“Do you like it?” the man asks, staring down at you. “I thought you deserved a reward so behaving so well last time we went out. If you’re good this time as well, I’ll give you another one.”

I won’t be here for you to give me another one, you think.

“I like it,” you say, ignoring how your heart instinctively speeds up with—is it fear? concern? hesitation?— when that thought runs through your mind. “Thank you, Sir.”

Childe grimaces.

“I mean, Ajax.”

Calling him by his name is still a hard habit to get into, but you find that the syllables roll off your tongue much smoother now. Alas, you shouldn’t need to worry about it too much longer. Not if today’s meeting with Diluc and Kaeya goes as planned.

“Here, lean forward so I can put it on you.”

The way you arch your neck forward is familiar. You and Childe have been in this position countless times before, him always being the one to fasten his gifts to your collar, and it shows in how quick Childe’s fingers are in attaching the short chain of the sapphire to your necklace. Within seconds, you feel the task’s completion as you lean your head back and smile at your owner, the weight around your neck marginally heavier than when you both stepped inside this van.

“It looks good,” Childe says, squeezing your thigh gently. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” you say like a good little slave. Then, you decide to go the extra mile. “Ajax.”

The man doesn’t respond to that, opting to glance out the window as his driver speeds down the highway that’ll doubtlessly bring you both to the office Diluc and Kaeya share, but you can see the edges of his lips curling upward. It’s rare, after all, for you to address him by name. No matter how much he loves it, your tongue still says “sir” on instinct, a little crack in the homey picture Childe is building with you in his mind.

It’s not like it matters, you think, stopping yourself from thinking too much about your owner before you can begin to feel bad. If all goes well, I won’t ever have to see him again.

The thought instinctively brings a smile to your face, but it falls just as fast.

If.

Looking back, the message Diluc and Kaeya gave you was cryptic. ‘WE CAN HELP YOU’ provides no accurate timeline to place your hopes in. The second message, ‘COME WITH TARTAGLIA NEXT WEEK AND WE CAN FREE YOU’ was of the same nature. Up til now, you’ve been vaguely interpreting their words to mean that they would free you immediately if you managed to go with Childe to this meeting. But the human trafficking world is so complicated, and you can’t help but think that things may be delayed even longer.

All you can do is hope for the best and pray that reality won’t disappoint.

“How much longer?” you ask your owner after the view outside the window has changed from a highway to a cityscape.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Childe chuckles. “We should be there any time soon. Keep an eye out. Their office is in one of the big buildings.”

That doesn’t tell you much, given that nearly every building this van drives past is over fifteen stories high.

You’re in the middle of scoffing at Childe’s poor description of the office when the car finally stops: and only then do you understand that when he said “one of the big buildings,” he meant the biggest fucking building in the entire city.

You’re gawking like a fool as Childe helps you out of the car, mentally overwhelmed at the sheer size of what has to be the tallest office in Snezhnaya.

“It’s…”

Big doesn’t begin to describe the grandeur of this place. It’s nothing you’d expect from two men who are working undercover to free people from human trafficking: it's got to be the most eye-catching thing you've ever seen, one hundred stories high or taller, with every inch of the exterior covered in wall-to-wall windows. It looks like an upscale version of Childe’s own office, and if you thought his building was lavish, then this is full-on opulent.

Your owner has to forcibly pull you forward to get you to move.

You almost forget to tuck your precious jacket—the one you so foolishly forgot when you last went out in public, the one Childe insisted you bring this time in case you have another episode—underneath your arm because you’re so busy marveling at the exterior of the building, though you thankfully remember to do so right before the van door closes.

“It’s nothing impressive,” Childe grumbles as he pulls you past the professional double doors. “Diluc and Kaeya are only renting the top ten floors here. They’re not even rich enough to purchase them.”

“Ten whole floors?” you ask, eyes round as you stare at the inside of the ground floor. Childe tugs you towards the elevator, and you’re just barely able to slow him down so you can stare at the marble floors, the expensive-looking paintings on the wall, the embodiment of wealth unlike anything you’ve ever seen. “Why do they need ten—”

“They’re sex traffickers, angel,” Childe tells you when the elevator doors shut. (You have to force yourself to refrain from marveling at how even this elevator seems posh and refined.) “They use the top floor for their own operations. The other nine are where they run their prostitution rings.”

Your face darkens at that. It must be the exact same as Childe’s office, where he has you and his other favored prostitutes up at the top with him, and all the girls he doesn’t want to show favoritism to are forced into the life they were meant to follow when they were brought into the human trafficking world: either as unpaid sex workers that are sold by the hour from Childe to other equally-awful clients or as human trafickees to be shipped to someone else if they prove to be too much trouble.

But then, you remember Diluc and Kaeya’s message.

‘WE CAN HELP YOU,’ they said.

There’s no way that they’re running a sex trafficking front up here. Childe must be wrong. It’s probably just a lie they told him to gain his trust so that they could best help you escape this life.

“They’re so arrogant,” Childe grumbles, crossing his arms. “I bet they chose this office just to piss me off. It’s bad business, too. They’re losing out on money by choosing such a fancy place. Not even the Snezhnayan sex work model will boost their profits.”

“What’s the Snezhnayan sex work model?”

“The system we use in the Fatui. It’s supposed to be the best, money-wise. You hand-train the elite girls as prostitutes so that the best ones become magnets for high-caliber clients. You sell off girls who don’t show promise early on. And then there’s a handful of average-quality, compliant girls you keep for the low-caliber clients that want a good fuck but can’t pay as much.” Childe folds his arms as he leans back against the elevator wall. “It's the most profitable method, even if it means that the girls you sell will always be low-quality.”

“Wouldn’t I be an elite girl?” you ask, staring at your owner. “You trained me, but I never had to work as a prostitute. And I only sometimes have to meet your clients, and—”

“You’re different,” Childe says, avoiding your eyes.

Immediately, you want to ask what he means by that. Unfortunately for you, the elevator doors open at that precise moment, and Childe leads you forward by the hand into an office that, now that you think about it, definitely was designed to upstage Childe’s own place of work.

“Come on, you can do it, baby.” A low coo from the left side of the room draws your attention, and your eyes widen in a mix of confusion, concern, and finally, horror.

“Ignore Kaeya. Focus on my fingers. Relax your throat, doll, yes, just like that…”

Even Childe stiffens when he sees the three men splayed out on a couch: Diluc and Kaeya sandwiching a youthful-looking boy between them as Diluc shoves his hand down the boy’s throat and Kaeya strokes the boy’s small cock.

For a moment, you don’t understand why the boy looks so wrecked, his braided hair dampened with sweat and his face covered in tears, but when your eyes watch as a trickle of sweat trails from the boy’s neck to his stomach, joining a copious amount of white fluid you can only imagine to be the result of countless orgasms, it’s clear that Kaeya’s overstimulating him. Add that to the way Diluc’s entire hand is slotted down the poor boy’s throat, and how the redhead is still stubbornly trying to get more inside, and it becomes clear that whatever this boy is feeling is far from pleasant.

The picture makes it irrevocably clear that this boy is to Diluc and Kaeya what you are to Childe.

Instinctively, you imagine how you would feel if you were in such a position. Your worst memory under Childe, after all, is from the time when you were handed over to four men who fucked into your G-spot so vigorously that you cried at any sensation for hours. Your second worst memory is from the time when a client forced a massive dildo so big you couldn’t breathe down your throat and left you like that until Childe intervened.

The idea of those two memories being combined into one makes you want to vomit.

“Fucking hell,” Childe grunts once he’s past processing the image before him. “Get your toy out of here. Do you have to be so disgusting?”

“Oh, please,” Kaeya responds, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. He doesn’t stop stroking the boy’s cock. “You had your little angel out during our last meeting. Let us have a little fun now, alright?”

“Hell no. Even I don’t dabble in…” Childe sneers when he sees how young the boy seems to be. “Children.”

Diluc laughs, a deep, rich sound that reverberates through the room. “He’s older than he looks. We’re not scummy enough to deal in children, either, Tartaglia.”

“You’re scummy enough to have to share,” Childe says, scoffing. “What, did you guys spend so much money paying for this building’s rent that you couldn’t afford more than one kid to suit both your needs? The two of you look pathetic, you know.”

“I wouldn’t call it pathetic,” Kaeya offers. “It’s more like we know exactly what we want. And if we both want the same thing, we’re not going to waste our time with…” The man’s single eye skirts over your figure with purpose. “Cheap replacements.”

“Really, now?” You can sense Childe getting offended for you. “You think your little toy is better trained than my angel?”

“I don’t think it, Tartaglia. I know it.” Kaeya grins. He gives the boy’s cock another few strokes, going at the same pace, the small, red-flushed thing twitching furiously in response. “Just watch.”

Kaeya abruptly pulls back from the boy, lifting his hand in the air for dramatic effect, and one, two, three seconds pass where nothing happens. The little organ he’d been stroking still quivers, either from overstimulation or from desire, but the boy suppresses his orgasm, and you can see the desperate, shallow breaths he tries to take from around Diluc’s hand.

Then, it happens.

“Cum, Venti.”

On command, the boy keens, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips spasm and jerk up into nothing. Venti’s cock looks abused, a thought demonstrated by how little cum actually shoots into the air and onto his stomach, the substance looking more watery than it looks healthy.

You grimace when you understand how far Venti must have been pushed to reach this point.

The boy practically melts into Kaeya’s hold after the orgasm has left his body, boneless after something so intense, and the final shreds of resistance he’d been offering Diluc’s hand disappear as the redhead’s wrist edges deeper into his throat.

“Such a good boy, isn’t he?” Kaeya says, grinning as he strokes Venti’s hair, brushing the sweat-stained bangs from his forehead. “He’s ‘Luc’s favorite. We haven’t had any discipline issues from him in years. Same goes for the rest of our merchandise.”

Kaeya’s words are a shameless flex on Childe: a reminder that your owner’s girls are so often poorly-trained and that even you, the star of his trafficking business, are secretly planning on running away.

You don’t need to look up at your owner’s expression to see the raw annoyance plastered onto his face.

“No discipline issues?” Childe grunts. “So if I bought him from you and ordered him to kill himself right now, he’d do it?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Whatever response Kaeya was expecting, that wasn’t it.

Finally, Diluc speaks up.

“Venti, much like your toy over there, isn’t for sale.” Diluc withdraws most of his hand from the boy’s mouth, leaving only the tips of his fingers in such that Venti cranes his neck forward to suckle at them. “But if you want him gone that much, it’s fine. He has to go to work now, anyway.”

You can feel your eyebrows shoot up at that. Kaeya watches your expression, and he laughs.

“Sorry, girlie. I know your master over there likes to exercise preferential treatment with his pets, but we don’t do that in Mondstadt.” Kaeya gently pushes Venti to his feet, holding his hand until the shake of the boy’s feet subsides. “All our toys have to work. Favoritism should only go so far in a world like this.”

With that, Kaeya pats Venti’s butt and sends the boy off, and you watch in a mix of awe and horror as he stumbles towards the elevator to “work.”

If it were real, you’d be mortified.

Venti was overstimulated to tears, his legs wobbling the whole time as he stumbled past you, the apples of his fair cheeks flushed a feverish red. There was saliva dripping down his chin, cum still smeared on his stomach, and the reek of sweat and sex wafting off the entirety of his stumbling, nude form.

But you comfort yourself with the knowledge that it was all just an act.

You close your eyes and hold your jacket closer to your body as the elevator releases a low ding, forcing yourself to remember the message Diluc and Kaeya left for you that filled your heart with so much hope. What happened with Venti just now looked bad, but you’re certain that it was all part of their master strategy to deceive Childe until you’re free from him.

(If there’s a sudden thump of a body hitting the ground and a low groan from behind the elevator doors as soon as they shut, you force yourself not to pay attention to it.)

“Fucking finally,” Childe mutters as soon as Venti is gone. He shuffles forward and flops down onto a couch, pulling you with him. “Listen, I don’t want to be here any more than you guys want me here. Let’s get this over with quickly, shall we?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaeya mumbles, using a sanitized cloth to clean his hands before slipping his usual gloves back on. Next to him, Diluc does the same. “All we need to do is fix a transportation route for the merch, right?”

“Yeah,” Childe grunts. “I already have some ideas. I own a parent company that sells furniture. If we can legally frame our transactions under the branch of…”

You zone out as soon as they begin using human trafficking jargon you barely understand.

This meeting is much more civilized than the previous, if the whole incident with Venti can be forgotten. The jabs Diluc and Kaeya make towards Childe are much more subtle, popping up rarer, too, and Childe doesn’t openly taunt them with your body the way he did in the first meeting.

It takes nearly an hour before your owner even remembers you, and even then, his touches remain somewhat innocent. He only ever ghosts his fingers against your thigh, oft going down to drum his fingers against your knee while he continues to work out the logistics of his business deal. The touches honestly end up keeping you on edge with how delicate they are, and it’s right when his fingers have finally flitted up to the innards of your thigh, right when you’re holding your breath, right when Diluc and Kaeya’s eyes are fixated on where his palm has crept beneath your skirt, that his phone rings.

Immediately, Childe’s hands are off you.

“I have to take this,” he says, wrapping a protective arm over your shoulder as he beckons you to stand next to him. “In private.”

“Take the elevator down to the second floor if you want privacy,” Diluc offers. “It’s not being rented out, and there aren’t any cameras there.”

“Thanks,” your owner says, leading you towards the elevator.

“Wait,” Kaeya calls, right as you’re about to step in behind Childe. You glance behind your shoulder to stare at him, and the devious expression on his face concerns you.

Kaeya winks at you a second before Childe, too, turns to face him.

“Leave your girl here with us, will you? Give us a treat to nibble on to kill the time.”

Immediately, you think that Kaeya has said the wrong thing. Childe is a fiercely protective man, over you more than anything else. There’s no way he’d leave you in the hands of two men he barely even likes, and it’ll probably only cast suspicion in his mind to hear Kaeya ask for you so candidly.

You shut your eyes, instinctively preparing to hear Childe’s rejection.

Instead, his tone is light when he speaks, almost amused. “Finally seeing how high-quality she is, eh?” Your owner is smiling at Kaeya, not an ounce of irritation, anger, or protectiveness on his face. “Fine. This call will take a while anyway. Just make sure you don’t wreck her too much.”

With that, the redhead steps into the elevator and leaves you with nothing more than a featherlight kiss to the temple, and you’re standing there, dumbfounded, for a full ten seconds before you process what has happened.

Alone, you realize with a start. I'm finally alone with them.

Immediately, you sprint forward, grabbing Kaeya’s hand in an attempt to tug him off the couch, not caring about how you dropped your jacket on the floor in your rush.

“Come on,” you say, eyes wide. “If—if you want to set me free, we have to go now while he’s busy!”

But Kaeya doesn’t move an inch off the couch, instead pulling you onto his lap with a strength you didn’t realize he had.

“What are you—”

“Shh, baby. We have to put on a show in case Tartaglia comes back, yeah?” You feel Diluc shuffle behind you, and the redhead is quick to wrap his hands around your hips from behind.

The slowness, the casualness, the feigned normalcy of their actions dumbfounds you.

“Why aren’t we leaving?” you whisper, hands going up to grip at the fabric of Kaeya’s suit. “You said you’d free me if I managed to come to this meeting, so—”

“Relax,” Diluc mumbles into your ear, gloved hands sliding beneath your blouse to grope at your breasts. “Freeing you isn’t something we can do at the drop of a hat. It’s not just about you being here.”

“Right,” Kaeya says, his fingers slowly undoing the zipper on your skirt. “We asked you to come to this meeting to first check if it would even be possible to free you. A test, if you will. We weren’t sure you’d pass it. But if Tartaglia is willing to give you enough freedom to wander around with him, we figure you should also have enough freedom to do what needs to be done for us to free you.”

“What?” you whisper, trying to force back the tears that are pooling in your eyes. This is everything you’d feared: that Diluc and Kaeya’s idea of freeing you would be more complicated than you’d realized and that the whole process would require more time. “What do you need me to do to be free?”

“Aw, don’t cry.” Kaeya tosses your skirt to the floor right before he goes up to wipe away the tears from your face. “It’s not hard. We just need you to get ahold of Tartaglia’s fake documents on you.”

“His...what?”

Confusion is ultimately what brings a halt to your tears, and you cock your head naively at Kaeya right as Diluc speaks up.

“Fake documents,” Diluc explains, beginning to rub the front of his pants against your naked arse. “Every human trafficker has a series of documents for their merchandise that they can use for transportation and claim purposes. We need to get yours from Tartaglia.”

“Why can’t you take me away without them?” you plead, still clinging to the hope that you might be able to go free today. “Why do I have to—”

“Because, depending on how smart Tartaglia is, he can use those documents to rightfully get you back, even if we set you free.”

“What?” you ask. “How?”

“Think. If he has you listed on those documents as a minor, then the State can only do so much to protect you. Especially if he has himself listed down as your guardian. Even if you try to speak out against him, the Snezhnayan police won’t care. They’ll send you straight back to him, and you can bet that whatever freedoms you have now will be forever lost to you the second time around.”

“B-but, if I can prove that I’m not the person in his fake documents—”

“You can’t prove that,” Kaeya interrupts. “If you’re lucky, Tartaglia’s fake documents would be low-quality. But if he was smart, which we both know he is, then his documents will be of a high-enough quality that people will believe them when they see them. And unless you happen to have your official documents on you, there’s nothing you can do to protect yourself except steal the papers from Childe before he can use them.”

The annoyed, almost bored inflection of Kaeya’s voice shakes you to the core. They rattle this information off so quickly, so intuitively, so earnestly that you have no choice but to believe them.

“Okay,” you whisper, voice shaky. “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll get the documents you want.”

“Do you know where he keeps them?” Diluc asks.

“I think so. He has a locked briefcase that he always keeps in his office. I don’t know the combination to open it, but I should be—”

“Good,” Kaeya interrupts. “You seem like a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Y-yeah,” you say, hesitant. The man’s words seemed like a compliment, but his tone felt much more derisive. “Um, is that all, or is there anything else I—”

“That’s all,” Diluc says. “Two weeks from now is when we’ll be ready to get you out of here. We’ll be staying in the hotel across from Tartaglia’s apartment. The two of us will be in rooms 213 and 214. Come find us at any time, and as long as you have the documents on you, we’ll be able to set you free.”

Your heart beats a little faster at that.

“Really?” you whisper, almost not believing it. The goal you’ve been given is finally real: it’s tangible, so clear that you can already see yourself using something sharp to tear into Childe’s briefcase and retrieve your documents before you’ll finally be able to live a life you can be proud of.

Kaeya smiles when he sees the look on your face.

“Really,” he whispers, reaching a rough, gloved hand up to cup your cheek with infinite care. The kiss he coaxes you into is gentle, soft, and sweet. It’s everything he is, everything Childe isn’t.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning forward to wrap the man in a hug. You don’t care about the fact that Diluc has unbuttoned and pulled off your blouse now, leaving you effectively nude as you embrace Kaeya, but he doesn’t seem to mind either. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” the man whispers in response, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

The next minutes are marked by more peace than you’ve felt in months. Sandwiched between Diluc and Kaeya, you feel oddly safe. The roughness of their gloves stops bothering you, the silky brushes of their hair stop tickling you, and the closeness of their bodies, the warmth and the heat that radiates off them as naturally as light off the sun, only relaxes you in their arms.

When Kaeya begins playing with the jewels on your necklace, you don’t stop him.

“Tartaglia gave you this?” he asks, tugging gently at a diamond.

“Yeah. They're all presents for being good.”

You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face as you say that: it’s like a reminder that you’re special, that you’re important, that even though you’re down in a world where your life isn’t even your own, you still have worth.

Behind you, Diluc’s fingers reach over your shoulder and begin lifting up individual stones to the light. “These are expensive,” he mutters, twisting a ruby among his leathered fingers. “More expensive than what someone would normally give to a slave.”

“I know,” you say. “It's because this is supposed to incentivize my good behavior, and—”

“No,” Diluc interrupts, voice soft. “It’s supposed to manipulate you.”

Your voice catches at that, and you glance at Kaeya for confirmation because you doubt it can be true. Not when Childe always seems so sweet when he gifts you these presents. Not when you've come to look forward to them as the one light in your life in this dark, dark world. But when the blue-haired man’s face twists into sympathy, your heart falls.

“B-but...I like…”

“You’re supposed to like it,” Diluc’s voice, rich and deep, rumbles out into your ear. ”But you need to understand that it’s not a necklace, doll. It’s a collar.”

“I know that,” you say, now wrapping your fingers around the chain protectively. “But I don’t—I don’t want—”

Kaeya kisses you, bringing two hands to your cheeks to cradle your face in his fingers.

“We’re not going to take it away from you, baby.”

He kisses you again.

“Relax.”

Those words soothe you in a way you can’t quite explain; the idea of losing your necklace, even being told that your necklace was a ploy to manipulate you (though you already knew that, to some extent), was unsettling. You much prefer the notion that it’s an innocuous gift: mainly because you’ve grown far too attached to it for it to represent human trafficking and all the pain you’ve had to endure thus far.

But, right when you’ve calmed yourself and forcibly stopped yourself from panicking, you feel a sharp tug on your neck.

“What did you—”

“Nothing,” Diluc says, holding two gemstones—two diamonds, one blue and one pink—in his palm. They still have their chain attached to them, but that's it: there's nothing connecting the diamonds to your necklace, the chains having been ripped off. You feel your expression change as you see what he's done. “Just—”

“What did you do?!” you blurt, panic beginning to overtake your heart. “Childe—Ajax—he’s going to notice! I—I’ll get in trouble, and—”

“Shh,” Kaeya whispers, trying to calm you down with a kiss, but you pull back before his lips can touch you. “It’s not—”

“Put it back. Put it back!”

You've turned around and are about to hit Diluc when the man grips both your wrists, holding you with such a force that it freezes you. The look in his eyes is fierce, fiery, red eyes shining brighter than the rubies dangling off your neck—and for a single second, you can’t help but think that the man looks furious.

Then, the expression is masked, and you’re both left calmer for it.

“Tartaglia won’t notice. Unless he makes a habit of regularly counting what’s on your neck, only you’ll be able to feel the difference.” Right. That makes sense. Childe likes to look at your necklace, but you doubt that he’ll actually know how many presents he’s gifted you. Not when he barely touches the thing, dexterous fingers always reaching out to feel your body instead.

“And besides,” Diluc says, easing you back into your earlier position with your back resting against his chest. “It’s a promise. The two diamonds.”

“A promise?”

In front of you, Kaeya smiles in understanding.

“Right. It’s a promise, baby. We’ll give you these two diamonds back once we’ve freed you, and until then, they’re our weight to bear so that every time we look at them, we remember that we’re waiting for you so we can set you free.”

“It...is?” you ask, hesitant. You haven’t been in the outside world in a while; is this how people do promises now?

“Yes,” Diluc mumbles, kissing your ear as he strokes your hair. Every brush of his fingers against your head instinctively relaxes you, until you’re almost as calm as you were before he took two stones off your necklace. “Do you trust us to return them to you?”

It’s a disguised question.

What Diluc is really asking is this: Do you trust us?

“Yes,” you breathe. It’s the only right answer.

Then, the two men go silent. They focus on relaxing you once more, running their gloved fingers up and down the sides of your body, almost massaging your skin as you sit between them.

Unfortunately for you, all you can think about is your necklace.

It’s the first time you’ve had it be lighter than before: Childe only ever adds to it; he never takes. Now, right when you’d grown used to the weight of the sapphire he attached this morning, you’ve got the odd situation of it being even lighter than it had been when you woke up.

You know that you should feel freer now: less chained down to Childe and to the Fatui.

But deep down inside, you miss the weight.

Minutes later, when you’re a little less emotionally overwhelmed and a little more relaxed as the two men gently run their arms around your body, another thought surfaces.

“A-also,” you say, hesitant. “Um, everything you said at the beginning of this meeting…”

“All lies,” Diluc says, pulling you closer against his broad chest after you slink too deep into Kaeya’s embrace. “Tartaglia had a negative impression of us coming in, so we had to play to that. Everything we said was just for show.”

Your shoulders sag in relief at that, but another thought continues to poke at your brain.

“And Venti?” you finally manage to ask, remembering how ruined the boy had looked as he stumbled away from the two men holding you.

“He’s a masochist,” Kaeya blurts. “We asked him beforehand if he’d be okay with participating. Not sure he realized how all-out we were going to go, but I’m certain that he enjoyed himself.”

That...makes sense! You’ve heard before about masochists, and looking back, everything Diluc and Kaeya did to the boy really did seem to be for the sake of his pleasure. You’ve heard countless times about overstimulation being something sexy, something desired, something liked by the select few who could bear it. Similarly, the way Diluc had his hand down Venti’s mouth...that’s the equivalent of Childe having you suck on his fingers during sex, right?

You laugh a little when you realize that everything you’d been scared about had an explanation. You should have known better than to doubt Diluc and Kaeya, two people who are saving you from hell itself. If anything, you should be on your knees thanking them instead of raising questions over what they had to say to be able to help you out.

“I’m sorry for all the questions,” you confess, sheepish as Kaeya’s fingers begin toying with your breasts. “I’m just...really nervous. And a little scared.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Kaeya asks, a tinkling laugh spilling from his lips. “We were the same way when we first came out here to save people from human trafficking.”

“Really?” you ask, eyes round. “Do you guys do this for a living? How many people do you save?”

“Uh...whoever we can, really. We use our covers as human traffickers to identify targets that would be easiest for us to free. You seemed like one. Before you, we helped that boytoy from Zhongli. Before him was some Khaenri'ahi girl, and…”

Zhongli? You ask yourself, trying to figure out where you know that name from. It’s familiar, so familiar, and…

“Wait!” You blurt, sitting up straight and nearly knocking Diluc backward in the process. “You guys were responsible for freeing Xiao? The one who’s always by Zhongli’s side?”

You remember the short little man, beautiful in his own right, from when Childe had a business meeting with Zhongli. That was the first time you learned of Xiao, the last time being just last week when you heard Scaramouche say that the green-haired boy had somehow disappeared.

Hope blooms in your heart as soon as you realize what that disappearance was: the successful removal of one more slave from the human trafficking network, something you're next in line for.

Diluc lets out a light laugh when he sees how your entire face has brightened up now that you have genuine proof that these two men are for real, that they’ve helped people escape in the past and that they’ll help you escape in the near future.

“Wait, if you guys freed Xiao, then were you also the ones responsible for setting, uhm…”

Your brain blanks out as you try to remember the second person Scaramouche mentioned when speaking to Childe. What was her name? Amine? you think, but that sounds off. Umino? Lumina? You continue to guess names in your head, brain fixating on Childe’s interaction with the other Fatui executive until finally, you remember her name.

“Lumine!” you declare with pride. “Were you the ones who set her free, too?”

Kaeya stares at you with a shocked expression. His lips part and his face freezes, eyebrows lifted comically high on his forehead, and you turn around to glance at Diluc, but the redhead is in a similar state.

“You’re telling me,” Kaeya begins, “That Lumine...”

He can’t bring himself to finish, and so Diluc steps in to complete the question: “Lumine belonged to Tartaglia?”

You glance back and forth between the two men, unsure of why they seem to be regarding this news with such shock.

“I think so?” you say, now beginning to doubt yourself. “I’m not sure. But Scaramouche said something like that to him, so I—”

You’re cut off by a sharp cackle of laughter from Kaeya. You stare at him in shock, and then behind you, Diluc has begun chuckling, and then Kaeya’s laughing even louder, and within seconds, both men are laughing their heads off at something you barely understand.

“Oh my gods!” Kaeya blurts between fits of almost-hysterical giggles. “You’re telling me that Tartaglia? Fucking Tartaglia? Was the one to lose Lumine?” He laughs some more, loud and merry and cheerful. "So I was right when I called you a—a—" Kaeya stutters in his laughter. "A cheap replacement?"

You stare at the blue-haired man in confusion, not understanding a word of what he's saying nor why he seems to find it so hilarious that Childe and Lumine are connected. You want to open your mouth to ask why, but you have to stop yourself because it's at this precise moment that your owner returns; and this is the picture that Childe sees when the elevator dings with the announcement of his arrival: you, completely nude and squashed between the two Mondstadt business partners, Kaeya in front of you, laughing his ass off as if you’ve told the joke of the century, and Diluc behind you, the most stoic man in the room losing his composure in an equally graceless manner.

“What the fuck…” your owner mutters at the sight, but seeing Childe only makes the two men around you laugh harder.

It takes a full minute for them to calm down, and in that minute, you rise from their couch and move back towards Childe like an obedient slave, only wearing your clothes when Childe nods at you that it’s okay for you to do so.

“So,” Childe deadpans once Diluc and Kaeya have finally stopped laughing, though Kaeya still releases a giggle every now and then. “Did my girl tell a funny joke or something? You guys sounded like a bunch of dying hyenas.”

“Something like that,” Kaeya says, smiling at Childe, but you sense something deadly in his eyes.

“Alright, well…” Childe awkwardly tries to steer the conversation back to what they’d been discussing before. “I guess the final details will have to be ironed out once I actually use this company as a cover to ship the girls to you, but is there anything else we need to talk about? Transportation-wise, we seem solid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaeya drawls, a strange smile on his face. “But, real quick, I want to talk about prices one more time.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Childe grunts, annoyed. “We already agreed on five-hundred thousand mora per shipment. Don’t try to haggle with me again on this.”

“Ordinarily, you’d be right,” Diluc says, crossing his arms. “But we just learned some interesting information.”

Childe’s eye twitches in annoyance. “Right,” he blurts, leaning back. “What is it? Did you find out that I’m giving a better deal to someone else? Because that sucks, but that’s how this business works with new partners. I’m not going to—”

“It’s not that,” Diluc interrupts, lifting a hand. “It’s moreso that before, we thought we were purchasing merchandise from a valued, respected dealer.”

Diluc’s lips quirk into a cruel grin.

“Not from the infamous idiot trafficker who lost Lumine.”

You can hear the ice settle over the room before you feel it, the abrupt, chilling silence suddenly making every second feel like an hour. You’re almost scared to move, scared to pull your eyes to your owner who, for the first time since you met him, looks like the child his codename was assigned for.

Childe doesn’t try to speak, but his every thought is displayed in his eyes alone, the cerulean blues giving insight to a hurricane of emotions wilder than the sea. In his eyes is fear, horror, despair, and pain, so much pain.

Something about the look on his face makes your heart break.

Diluc and Kaeya don’t care.

“I think charging five hundred thousand mora is a tad much for a douche who almost brought the entire industry down. Hell, you should be paying us for even being willing to deal with you, but…” Kaeya glances at Diluc, a single blue eye flitting down to where Diluc extends three fingers against his knee. “We’ll settle for a drop in the price instead. Three-hundred thousand mora per shipment. That good with you, Tartaglia?”

You’re expecting your owner to bargain, to argue, to scoff, to do something other than stare into the distance with those bright blue eyes that now look more blank than anything else.

When you hear Childe mutter a meek “Okay,” you nearly recoil in shock.

Even Kaeya is surprised. “R-really? Damn. Actually, I think we should go even lower, y’know? Every trafficker in the world was scared for their life because of you, so maybe drop the price some more as reparations for that? Whaddya say, two hundred thousand? Per shipment?”

You stare at your owner, silently begging him to do something. Even you can tell that he’s being taken advantage of now, and that awful look in his eyes is something that even you’re unfamiliar with.

“Okay.”

“Fu...okay then? But also, you were kind of a dick to us last time, so how about you make it one hundred thousand? Seems more fair to me.”

“O—”

You grab your owner’s hand before he can agree, and the touch seems to snap Childe out of the awful fog that had been wrapped around his head. The look in his eyes is only less marginally troubled when he abruptly stands up, gripping your hand in a silent plea for you to move with him.

“I’m going,” Childe announces.

He begins walking away so fast that you just barely have time to grab your jacket before you’re at his heels.

The man completely ignores Diluc and Kaeya as he waits for the elevator to open with a rigid posture, seeming to feel uncomfortable or fearful or panicked or a mix of all three. Kaeya begins laughing behind you both, and you almost want to tell him to stop: tell him that yes, Childe is an awful human trafficker and yes, you hate him as well—but the poor man looks like he’s on the verge of having a panic attack, and you know first-hand how awful a feeling that is.

You’re grateful when the elevator finally opens, more grateful when the doors close and you and Childe are finally in isolation together.

Only then, in the silence of the box as it moves you both down to the ground floor, do you hear Childe’s shaky breathing. It’s jagged, uneven. Then, you take note of the way his hands are clenched into fists, palms enclosed so tight that his arms are shaking—and despite everything he’s done to you, you feel some semblance of pity for him.

“Ajax,” you mumble, hoping that the name will calm him. “Relax.”

A moment of silence.

“I am relaxed,” he responds, and when you glance over at him, he’s completely back to normal: breathing even and palms loose.

His eyes, though, are just as pained as when the two of you were sitting upstairs on that couch.

“I’m sorry,” you say. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re the one who let it slip that Lumine and Childe were connected. Even if you don’t understand the scope of what you said, it's clear that it had an impact. “I didn’t—”

“It’s not your fault,” Childe says, not looking at you. “Don’t apologize.”

More silence. It feels heavy, unlike the usual, comfortable stretches of quiet that you and Childe like to bask in.

“What...were they talking about?” you ask quietly, still staring at your owner. “Diluc and Kaeya said that—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

A moment of silence.

It feels so heavy that it seems to crush you under its weight.

“Who is she? Lumine?”

More silence.

This time, Childe is the one to break it.

“The only girl I ever loved before you.”

That’s a lie, and you know it. If Childe loved you, he wouldn’t be bringing you around to meetings, dressing you like a cheap slave, and handing you off to other men to flex how ‘high-quality’ you are. If Childe loved you, you would be long gone from the human trafficking circuit because he would have set you free. If Childe loved you, he wouldn’t force you to stay by his side because he’s your abuser, your trafficker, the monster that haunts your life.

Most importantly, if Childe loved you, he would have given you a proper answer to your question. Not some flimsy skirt-around that only furthers his attempts to manipulate you into loving him back.

Your eyebrows furrow the slightest as you feel the elevator hit the ground floor, brain still focused on everything Diluc and Kaeya said. Everything Childe didn’t want to talk about. Lumine.

Curiosity begs you to stick around and learn the truth.

Logic, reasoning, and the desire to lead a life of your own tell you that you’ll be long gone from Snezhnaya before that’ll ever happen.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 7.9k

Notes: eyyyy i'm alive! i promise i never forgot about this fic, it's just that after i missed the original due date, my mind was just like 'eh, it's already late, what's a few more days?' and that's the story of how this is two months late. thank you to all the kind commenters from the last chapter - to the people who checked in on me, ily; to the people who sent me those wholesome asks on tumblr, ily ily; and to the people who made guesses on what would happen in future chapters - guess what :D you acc helped me shape this :3 i originally meant for lumine to be a passing thing mentioned once and never again, but she'll end up being important for chapter 4 ^^ so thank you to everyone who'll still be here after i disappeared for so long. hope you liked this chapter (lmk your thoughts!) and i can't wait to see you all in the finale <3

Comment & Like

Next Update: 6/11

I do not own the rights to Genshin Impact or any of the characters within it.

192 notes · View notes

fandomvariousness · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Levi x reader

Warnings: mild angst, violence, swearing, smut: slight dacryphilia, choking, slight masochism, slight dumbification, power play, unprotected sex

Summary: you’re an untruly scout in Levi’s squad and he let’s you know exactly how he feels when he pays you a visit during your punishment task

Word count: 3.6k

All hell broke loose if it was one of the worse days.

Your hot-headed disposition was a challenge to deal with in the first place, but if you felt a tad annoyed that day… Let’s just say punishments were as natural to you as breathing air.

It took slightest things to piss off Captain Levi – an irritated glance after he scolded you, a quiet remark you’d use to talk back and he, of course, would hear it. Simply put – you were disobedient. Yet even then you were an indispensable soldier – resourceful, intelligent, and absolutely fearless. Much like a wildfire – once you blaze, it’s hard to put you out.

Even so, Captain Levi eventually chose you to be a part of his new squad. Yes, he never encountered such an erratic human being that’s basically impossible to control, the traits that go against his every bullet point in describing a proper soldier, but he knew he would be an absolute fool if he’d go that massive potential of yours go to waste.

Countless times he wanted to kick you off the squad for being an unbearable brat, yet he didn’t. Often, you yourself wondered why.

✃

The squad has been on a minor expedition outside the walls for training purposes, so all of you were headed to the nearest cottage safe house.

After a tiring day of training, when the sun was setting down, you were all sitting outside, enjoying the last remnants of warmth in the air. Captain was sauntering inside the cottage, probably inspecting each crack and crevice after you all spend the first half of the day cleaning it.

It would be such a nice evening if Eren and Mikasa would argue a bit quieter. In fact, Mikasa was calmly saying something to Eren, while the latter, being basically as hot-headed as you, was arguing against her every word.

It pissed you off when they were like that, because it’s obvious Mikasa would do anything for Eren. Either he is so daft and doesn’t get it, or he doesn’t care. You never admitted to yourself that you’re jealous that Eren has someone who cares for him, while you have no one. Not even your family which was once very big – you had lots of cousins, aunts and uncles. Now, only you remain.

“Oi,” you exclaimed. “could you just tone it down a bit?”

Eren’s fiery gaze snapped towards you in a second. “Stay out of this!”

Now, you knew it’s none of your business, but you hated being talked to like that, much less ordered. You stood up in a swift motion from where you were leaning against a bench and turned your body to face Eren.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve no interest in what you’re crying about, Jaeger, but you’re not even listening to Mikasa, that much is obvious.”

Others were starting to pay attention too – they knew that when the two of you started bickering, often it’d turn into something more… interesting.

“You know what else is obvious?” he asked, his voice challenging. “That you act all brave and fearless, but in reality you’re just a restless child acting as if she lost her dummy!”

You felt that familiar tickling feeling of your temper rising, firing you up until you eventually lose yourself and act upon instincts that keep you alive and going.

You chuckled curtly. “Me? You’re calling me a child?”

Tauntingly, you’ve stepped closer to him. Eren knew that it’s not smart to wind you up like that, you’re still friends, good friends – it just so happened that you’re both in a bad mood today.

“At least I can wipe my own ass without Mikasa’s help.” you finished your sentence just before Eren grabbed a fistful of your collar and roughly pulled you flush against him, both of your impulsive auras conflicting with each other.

You growled as you pushed him away in a swift, forceful motion, earning a murderous glare from him.

It took so little to get you angry. Even though you pushed him away, that unruly part of yours stepped close to him again as you dug your forefinger in his chest in a threatening manner.

“Don’t touch me, you, whiny bitch,” you spat out, your voice dripping with venom – you were already blazing, and there was no going back.

Eren slapped your hand away. “Who you’re calling a whiny bitch? I wasn’t the one who cried into the pillow for two weeks after driving Reiner and Bertholdt away!”

Now, you can be reckless, wild, fiery… But Eren can be cruel.

The reason you were so devastated after finding out your two best friends were your mortal enemies was because with them you felt like you’ve had family again – both of them reminded you of your older brothers. You shared your feelings with Eren in confidence, and he just blurted it out in front of everyone.

“Fuck it,” you thought as you launched a punch at his face with a primal scream.

By now the others knew not to interfere in your fights, not even Mikasa. God knows they tried, and it made it even worse.

Eren fell to the ground with a hard thud before you quickly straddled him and lifted up your bent hand to launch another punch at his bloody nose.

The bastard was quick to react nevertheless as he met your fist with his palm and squeezed it, slapping you off of him with his free hand in a swift motion. The second your own body collided with the grass you were already scrambling with your hands and feet to get up.

As you turned to Eren with the intention to ram him to the ground again, he was already on his legs as well. The others were still shouting for you two to break it up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before Captain Levi shows up.

Not thinking straight, you did exactly what you wanted, you launched yourself at him and picked him like a flower stem, both of you flying to the ground again, followed by a sickening thump.

Your vision was getting blurry from all the rage and adrenaline as you lifted up your fist, charged with savage energy, ready to collide with Eren’s already battered face, yet it never happened. It never happened because someone else was gripping your wrist so hard, almost stopping the blood flow.

You snapped your head back to see murderous look in Captain’s gray eyes.

Still gripping your wrist, he jerked you back like a rag doll, painfully sending you to the ground, away from Eren.

It fell so quiet you could hear the clouds passing.

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I will kill both of you.”

“Right,” he continued. “when everyone’s going to sleep after this long, tiring day, you brats are going to sweep this house clean again. I don’t care how long it takes you. Eren takes right wing, Y/N takes left.”

He glared daggers at the two of you before going back to the cottage, just like that. It was actually worse when he didn’t say much – means he’s absolutely sick of you.

Still breathing heavily, you stood up, leaning on your knees with your palms for support.

“Shit, guys,” Jean muttered. “Shall we say our goodbyes now, or...?”

“Jean.” Mikasa snapped, shutting him up.

You glared at Eren who glared right back at you, although his eyes were already void of the rage that was previously residing in them.

You looked away without a word and made your way towards the cottage, wanting to wipe all the dirt and soot away.

✃

You stared at your distraught face in the mirror. Distraught by the fight you had with Eren, and by the fact that you got on Captain’s nerves again. How longer can you go on like this before he finally kicks you out?

You wiped your wet face with a towel as you heard someone come into the bathroom. Mikasa’s frame showed up in the mirror.

“Mikasa,” you spoke without hesitation as you turned around. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Mikasa shook her head sheepishly. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. You’re the most caring person I know and I used that to shame Eren, although there’s no shame in caring for your loved ones.”

Mikasa blushed as she set her eyes to the ground. “Everyone’s going to sleep already – you better hurry.”

“Right,” you sighed, feeling the jitters of anticipation.

You quit the bathroom and made your way to the cleaning cupboard to grab all sorts of supplies. At least the Captain was nowhere to be seen – you couldn’t bear his condemning gaze now. Not when you secretly always yearn for his approval.

You can’t help but stare at him a second longer than you should, or think about him when you shouldn’t. The fact that he hasn’t kicked you off of his squad gives you some material for thinking that maybe he simply doesn’t want to. There’s just something about him that makes you tense everytime you’re around him – not the dread everyone feels, but something else entirely, something that makes your stomach tingle.

You just finished cleaning all the dishes after dinner and was now sweeping the floor that was still clean after your cleaning tasks earlier in the day. That was the point of the punishment, you figured – clean the surroundings that are already clean, only to frustrate you.

You were kind of spacing out, the flashbacks of the fight with Eren coming back, rekindling the violent blaze within you. Everything was suddenly in your head again, pushing you to the edge. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose as you stopped momentarily, letting go of the broom and trying to forget how Eren just blurted out about your sorrows, how Captain glared at you, how everyone got to witness you getting unhinged again.

Hot flashes hit your body as you blew the stray ringlet of hair from your forehead, leaning on the dining table with your palms, desperately trying to calm down.

“Who told you to stop?”

Oh no… Really not the time.

You needed a few more seconds to stop the shivers as you opened your eyes and straightened your frame, facing Captain Levi, who was leaning against the counter.

It was precisely those few extra seconds that displeased him.

“Tsk,” he spat out as he straightened his frame. “Not only you’re deranged, but lazy too.”

You faced him with as blank a face as you could possibly muster, yet all your feelings were bubbling up, threatening to spill out with a little more provocation. You never wanted to rip off someone’s head so bad, until now.

You didn’t realize you’d squeezed your eyes shut until they suddenly opened with the sound of hard crash – Levi had purposely smashed a ceramic cup to the ground, shattering it to pieces.

You set your mad eyes on him, disbelief written all over you.

“Clean it.” he ordered. “Or are you going to disobey me again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you sure it was bleeding, breathing heavily, restraining yourself like never before in order not to pounce on him.

Instead, you repeatedly bit your lower lip as you felt your eyes watering. It’s better to cry yourself stupid before him than to actually hit him – then everything would definitely be over.

He stepped closer to you, your clothes almost brushing together, as he looked down on you with clear disgust, and… satisfaction?

You were so angry. He tried to demean you just now, and you were under immense pressure to actually pick those pieces up. You knew you had to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You gulped. “You’re abusing your power.”

“No,” he closed in on you, making you step backwards until the back of your thighs hit the table. “I’m establishing my power, since you clearly don’t recognize it.”

He leaned his palms on the table just like you did moments ago, trapping you. Your heart was palpitating against your ribcage, yet for reasons entirely different than rage.

All of those glances and pushes and punishments now made sense – that was the only way he could think of to interact with you with no suspicion from others. He’d often chide you for the stupidest things, just so he’d have the chance to have a conversation with you, no matter how fleeting or unimportant.

Deep down you always knew it, and that’s why you’re continued being such a burden. Just so that he’d look at you and punish you again, scream at you, or kick the shit out of you again.

The atmosphere in the room has changed radically. You felt like walking on a string, about to fall off as his face was hovering just above yours, torturing you with anticipation.

“You wanted to beat the shit out of me just now, didn’t you?” he quizzed while slowly tracing your features with his stony gaze. Instead of answering, you gulped.

He grabbed your face harshly, puckering up your lips in the process. “Speak.”

“Yes.” you admitted before his hand slid down to lightly hang at the base of your neck, igniting whole another fire within you.

“Yes what?” he asked, adding pressure to his hand.

“Yes, Captain.”

At this rate, you’re going to burn out.

He chuckled quietly through his nose and stood up straight. “Go on, then. I’m ordering you to slap me.”

It was as if you just turned into a statue – that’s how shocked you were. “W-What?” you asked sheepishly.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

You stared at him, trying to see him and his intentions through. Obviously, things were finally getting spicy, but your defense mechanism still rang some alarm bells – is he trying to trick you into something? Are you really going to bitch-slap the humanity’s strongest?

You felt your palms starting to tingle as he stared right into your eyes, challenging you to do it.

And you’re gonna do it, alright.

Something just snapped inside you, as it always does before you do something stupid or something you’re going to regret. You charged your palm with strength before sending it flying across his cheek with all your might. You whimpered as your skin came in contact with his, setting your palm on fire from such a harsh stroke.

And then it dawned on you – you really did bitch-slap him. He even stumbled one step backwards, his head ominously turned to the side, crow-black hair shielding his eyes from your vision, what absolutely terrified you.

He straightened his frame as he wiped a droplet of blood from his lip with the tip of his thumb.

You gasped audibly, making him look at you.

That’s it, you thought, he has a perfect reason to kill you now, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. You closed your eyes and awaited whatever’s to come, and it did come.

His lips came crashing on yours, both of you stumbling backwards, moving the table a bit. He immediately yanked you to sit on the wooden surface, positioning himself between your thighs as you held onto him for dear life.

He devoured you with hungry, open-mouthed kisses before you bit his lower lip, drawing blood once more.

One of his hands that were digging into your hips came in contact with your neck, squeezing it hard and pushing you away so he could see your hazy face.

“Savage.” he muttered after a few moments of taking you in, making your mouth stretch out into a lazy smile.

He pushed himself to you further, making your back hit the table as he attached his lips just below your neck, where jaw transitions to neck, coaxing a mewl out of you. He coaxed another when he rutted his hips against yours, making you aware of the growing tent in his pants.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, eyes closed as he sucked and bit little marks all over your neck. Hiding them is going to be a problem.

You took his face in your hands and kissed him deeply, rolling your hips against his in a tantalizing motion, whimpering at how his hardness brushes against where you need him the most, feeling him exhale into your mouth as his mind was equally clouded.

It felt like everything was finally coming to be exactly as it should, like you’d finally be released from your misery, like the intentions behind each of your actions would finally be clear, without any misunderstandings.

You were both impatient. No time for thorough build up, you just wanted to feel him inside you, just as he wanted to fill you up.

He drew back a bit, restrained by your legs snaking his waist as he rested his forehead against yours, panting heavily. “I’d really like to fuck you now.”

The fact that after all the crazy shit you’ve been through today he’d still ask for consent made you give it all to him. “Only if you do it so hard I can’t walk for days.”

You felt his dick twitch. “Easy.”

You yelped as he flipped you around, fumbling with the hem of your pants as he pushed them down to your knees, along with your underwear. You shivered as cool air hit your slick folds, and once again when you heard Levi fumbling with his own belt.

You wiggled your hips against him, impatient, almost crying out – you needed him that bad. His palm came flying against your behind, making you yelp loudly, gripping the edge of the table as you’re all sprawled out on top of it.

You whimpered again as you felt him brush the tip of his dick teasingly against your entrance. “Please, Captain…”

“So impatient,” he muttered silently before ramming into you without any warning.

Your nails dug into the wooden edge as you cried out into the air, holding on for dear life as he slammed you, table legs creaking underneath you rhythmically.

Levi had a perfect view of you as he rutted against you – the way your ass bounced flush against his hip, your arm muscles straining as you gripped the edge of the table harder and harder, the way the strands of your hair flew up and down with each motion, and how helplessly you squealed each time his tip hit your cervix – all of that sent him insane, unable to stop the silent whimpers that came out from his own mouth.

He had to restrain himself from going too fast – that’s how eager he was to finally sprawl you under him, after all this time you drove him out of his mind with your unstable behavior, hatred-driven glances and disobedience.

“Yes, yes, love it,” you wailed incoherently.

“Of course you do,” he huffed just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head backwards, stars spilling out of your head.

The way his dick breached you was literally driving you crazy – it was like a perfect fit, slipping soundly against your walls and hitting all the right spots at exactly the right time. Your cunt clenched around him on its own, making him groan at your artfulness. His fingers dug into the plush of your backside, thrusting into you without any mercy.

The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, your brain short-circuiting each time you heard Levi groan, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin ringing against the walls.

“Oh, God,” you cried out as your bliss was rapidly closing in on you.

“No,” Levi countered as he pressed his back flush against yours, brushing his lips against your ear. “just me.”

His head hung down, burying itself in the crook of your neck as he finally spilt his seed inside of you with a low groan that sent you to your own release. You cried out as he panted heavily against your skin, your body slumping on the table completely.

You had to muster up the remaining grain of your strength when Levi stood up and pulled his pants on so you could to the same with your own. Your breathing was still erratic as you fumbled with the pair of strings in the hem of your pants, trying to tie them. Levi approached you and lightly swatted your trembling hands away, tying them for you.

You were lost in his gray eyes by now, not even knowing what to say at first, but this silence that ensued was kind of comforting, both of you assessing the situation.

He chuckled suddenly. “Why did you beat the shit out of Jaeger in the first place?”

You smiled awkwardly as you shook your head curtly, gluing your eyes to the ground. “Doesn’t matter. Stupid thing, really.”

“Alright.” he said, his voice low, as usual. “You can tell me all about it next time.”

His words made you look at him again, eyebrows slightly lifted, eyes full of sudden anticipation.

Next time?

You were kind of scared at the thought of getting together with Captain again, but you felt excited way more.

“Oh, and like I said,” he paused before leaving the room completely. “clean it.”

You remembered the shattered cup and this time failed to refrain a smirk that creeped upon your lips.

“Yes, Captain.”

He left after that, but you swear you saw a ghost of a smile on those harsh lips.

376 notes · View notes

idw-sonic-fan-blog · 3 years

Text

The Belle Problem

I do not dislike Belle the Tinkerer. In fact, I am quite ambivalent towards her. Of all the characters, Belle is the weakest and I can understand people actively disliking her but realize that I am not in the camp that equates the character to Chris Thorndyke, Princess Elise, and Sally Acorn.

1. Belle’s origin arc is overbearing and overwritten

At the time of writing, Belle has been the main focus of 10 straight issues. 10 straight issues of just figuring out her backstory through exposition.

This wouldn’t be so bad if these moments weren’t so misaligned in how it told them. When we meet Belle, she is in a derelict Eggman base. Now I may be alone in this thinking, but it wasn’t immediately apparent to me that she was a robot. To me, she was a puppet and it’s not even thing to consider or immediately assume she was anything else until both Sonic and Tails spilled the beans that she was a robot of sorts.

The leap from puppet to badnik that Sonic made kind of put me in thinking that Belle was something Eggman made which is not a connection I would have figured out myself immediately because Belle doesn’t resemble anything Eggman has ever created.

In my head, I thought it was a completely different doctor like Starline made her, but that is never considered. Instead, the comic narrative insisted that Eggman must have made her which becomes the easiest mystery ever solved for an origin. It was patently obvious right after the second issue of her debut that Mr. Tinker made her. But instead of nipping it in the bud when it basically spelled it out for the audience, the comic draws it out for a few more issues.

This was 7 issues after her debut. Even if it weren’t for the pandemic, drawing out a mystery whose answer to it is obvious for 7 months at least is annoying. It’s like Blues Clues or Blaze the Monster Machines level of treatment the audience’s intelligence. And yes, this is a comic targeted at children, but I reiterate those audiences I’ve brought up can’t even read. And child demographic is not an excuse for non-compelling writing especially since IDW staff has done that kind of origin reveal that didn’t placate to a perceived lowest common denominator with characters like Whisper and currently with Starline.

Reward viewers for paying attention and figuring it out. Not punish them by drawing the answer out.

And also, how the chose to reveal her backstory is misaligned.

Instead of having Belle talk about it and some arbitrary conversation, why not just go back to that village with Belle in tow and we get to see how the village treats her. And this should have happened much earlier than the eventual reveal that she is Mr. Tinker’s creation. There are several ways to do this like the Restoration gets a request from that village for assistance and Belle goes because that is what she is good at. Then we see how they regard her and characters like Whisper, Jewel, Tangle and Lanolin supervise this and wonder what the deal is. You give people pieces of the puzzle, not essentially finish most of the puzzle for them. Set up some red herrings along the way. But instead, we just get dragged along.

2. Belle is a relic of an annoying plot device

Mr. Tinker is a bit of an issue for Eggman fans. Fans don’t necessarily like that Eggman’s character is treated like he isn’t essentially different from his amnesiac personality or they are the same person. The issue comes from Sonic’s insistence that Eggman could be like Mr. Tinker and fans misreading that as if the narrative is saying that Sonic is blaming Eggman for not being Mr. Tinker. Belle doesn’t help because, not only does she not accept that Eggman and Tinker are and the same, it becomes this father/daughter dynamic for a character that wasn’t his normal self upon his conception of her. It’s like if you lost your memories and identity but you continue to live your life regardless and you have a child under this alterego. You get your memories back and your identity, but you have a kid now. And now the world is blaming you for not being the person who you were when you weren’t mentally stable. Sure, the kid never asked to be made but technically you never were in the right mind to make her.

It gets iffy. And sympathy for Belle gets tied to this and it just makes Eggman feel culpable and a deadbeat father. This is not to say that Belle isn’t unsympathetic because it is definitely sad but you can’t say Starline was in the wrong for treating Dr. Eggman through shock therapy. But again, so did the village. They tried to rehab Eggman too so it’s not like they just exploited him.

It’s complicated and done fans don’t like the complication at all.

3. Belle is overly prevalent

It’s bordering on spot light stealing and she is becoming a IDW’s version of Geoff. 10 straight issues of focus. That is more focus than any character has gotten consecutively. Even in issues where Belle isn’t part of the main narrative, she is part of the overarching plot. In comparison, Tangle and Whisper got the opposite treatment in spite of being massively more popular. They just sporadically appear now and days. If the Restoration is involved, they are there. Neither character has been involved in more than 5 straight issues. Belle is already set to appear and be the focus of 11. And before you say Starline, he has the excuse because he is a main antagonist if not the main antagonist of IDW and even he hasn’t overtaken the comic as much as Belle.

All in all, fans need a break from the character or else she will be reviled as much as Tommy the Turtle.

#sonic the hedgehog #idw sonic #idw sonic the hedgehog #belle the tinkerer

80 notes · View notes

slasherhaven · 3 years

Note

hi i was wondering on how the slashers would react if their s/o helped their victim escape. Like what would they do...

The Slashers reacting to their S/O helping a victim to escape:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas will actually try to cover for you.

If Hoyt asks what the hell happened, Thomas would shrug, the victim just got away but don’t worry, he’ll get them back. And he does, he always does.

At the end of the day, you both know that you need to talk.

He’s sympathetic. He genuinely understands how you feel, he feels the same way too sometimes. He only does this for the family and you know that, he’s told you that.

He’ll try to comfort you, knowing that it bothered you.

But remember that this is about survival, it’s for the family and that includes you now. You have to understand and get on board, you don’t have to do anything to help with that side of things, he wants to protect you from that, but you do have to allow it to happen. And he’s sorry about that.

Michael Myers

It was one of the rare time Michael let you accompany him on one of his kills.

Michael was more confused than anything. Why would you come along just to let the victim get away like that?

Whatever, he’s going to go catch them because you know that he can. Did you even really think you were helping them or were you just giving them a few more minutes of hope?

Surprisingly doesn’t even get that mad, just gives you a glare as he passes you.

Either way, Michael just isn’t going let you accompany him again. He’s a little irritated by it but it’s quickly solved. You’re staying home from now on.

Jason Voorhees

Jason loves you for your kindness and empathy but this is a problem.

He can’t really be mad at you, you’re just trying to save a teenagers life or give them more of a chance.

You even apologised to him. He just sighed and went on to try to find the victim.

When you asked if he was mad at you, he just shook his head.

This whole thing was complicated. You accepted him for who he was but of course you didn’t want people to die.

Next time he would just ensure you stay at the cabin. You wouldn’t have to see what happened out in the camp and hopefully you wouldn’t feel responsible for the deaths.

He preferred you to stay there anyway, it was safer for you.

Bo Sinclair

Are you fucking serious? Why would you do something as stupid as that?!

Bo is pissed. You’ve put all of them at risk.

Firstly, he is taking that damn shotgun and hunting down the idiot you helped escape. Then, he’s handing the victim over to Vincent and he’ll deal with you.

You’re going to get shouted at...a lot. He’s never been so mad at you and we all know how Bo can let his anger get the best of him.

He’s not going to get physical but the anger in his voice is enough to make you hang your head and just listen.

He gets it. You’re better than him, you feel bad for these people. But in the end you chose to stay here, to be with him when you knew about what he did, you got yourself into this and you knew that from the beginning.

Knock it off or Bo is going to get beyond pissed off with you.

Vincent Sinclair

He just gives you a look before going after them, knowing how mad Bo would be at you both for letting a victim escaped...especially if he found out that you did it on purpose.

He can’t even manage to be mad at you. Of course you wanted to save that girl’s life, you’re a good person, that’s what a good person would do.

You’re just lucky that he was the twin to see it happen.

Later that night though, he will talk to you about it. Beginning to explain that you have to let them do what they do, but you interrupt him, telling him that you know and that you’re sorry. You just couldn’t help it when you saw her face.

He understands that even more. You felt guilty.

But he also reminds you that you’re family now and they do this for the family, it’s all they have.

So, he still isn’t mad. Just suggests hat you stay away next time, you fully agree with that. He also apologises for not warning you about the group of victims and not telling you to stay away from the workroom for a while.

Lester Sinclair

He ain’t mad, he gets it. He has his own hang ups about the whole thing, it’s why he never really actually kills anyone, he just takes them into town.

He understands why you did what you did...but that doesn’t mean he can encourage it.

He’ll sit down with you, telling you all of that and you understand. You’ll apologise, he’ll apologise for you having to deal with all of this in the first place.

Let’s just not tell Bo about this...

Lester thinks it would just be for the best if you stayed home next time somebody drove into town. Both to avoid angering Bo but also to protect you. He didn’t want you to feel responsible for their deaths, it’s not your fault.

Bubba Sawyer

Wh-why would you do that?

He knows that this whole thing can be a lot, he doesn’t always like it either, but this is what they do. You know that so why would you do that this time?

There are very few things that could make him mad at you, and this isn’t one of those things.

He’s actually more concerned about how Drayton would react. He would be so mad at you!

Okay, next time a victim comes along, you can stay away from it. He doesn’t like the idea of you being in a dangerous situation anyway.

He won’t tell Drayton but please don’t do this again, Y/n...

Asa Emory (The collector)

Asa has never lost his cool with you, until now.

He was always so calm but now he was angry. Why would you do something so stupid? You’re putting everything at risk, you put him at risk.

He knows you have a whole lot more sympathy for these people than he does but you can’t do things like this, you know that.

But right now, he had to go out there and get the victim back. Then, he will deal with you.

As punishment, Asa is pretty much treats you like a child who did something wrong. If you can’t even leave a victim be, how can he trust you?

You’re going to have to earn back his trust, and he’s going to be very strict with you until then. Hopefully, you prove that this won’t happen again.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Luckily for you, Jesse likes the chase.

He knows he will catch the victim again eventually, you’ve given them a small head start but you haven’t saved their life.

Deep down, both of you know it.

You stay put, he’s going to find the little piggy you let escape.

And when he gets back...you’re going to have a little chat.

If you keep interfering like this, it’s going to become a problem, and he can’t allow that. He just can’t but you already know that.

He can’t let this become a regular thing.

He’s probably just going to keep you away from his ‘work’ so you can’t cause any more problems.

One time is forgivable, it was a blip and you’ll have to earn his trust back, but if you start becoming a problem, he’s going to have to figure something out.

Otis Driftwood

Otis will snap at you, something that he doesn’t normally like to do.

But what you did was a massive fucking ‘no’. You joined this family, you have to deal with the consequences of that. Just stand back and let them get on with it.

He’ll go and drag them back, don’t you worry.

He will be keeping a closer eye on you, seeming more withdraw from you, until you earn back his trust.

If he’s satisfied about it being a one time thing, a moment of weakness, he can move on.

But if it happens again?...he’s going to have to crack down on that a lot harder.

You can’t become a problem. Don’t let yourself become a problem. You need to remember that you’re a part of this family now.

Baby Firefly

Baby just sees it as a big game.

You let them go...that just means that she has to chase them down and bring them back!

And she makes sure to tell you that she got them back with a proud smile. Was it supposed to make you feel bad? You truly weren’t sure.

She really seems unbothered. She got them back, she got to enjoy herself, they didn’t get to tell the police.

No harm down and she had fun!

It’s the rest of the family that’s going to have their eye on you for a while, until you prove it was a one time thing.

#thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull x reader #otis driftwood x reader #baby firefly x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

523 notes · View notes

crossdressingdeath · 3 years

Note

I went to reread the Soup Incident (chapter 69, a flashback in a flashback near the Phoenix Mountain kiss). There were several things I had forgotten!

In the middle of the Sunshot Campaign, the YunmengJiang Sect had been to the Langya area to assist the LanlingJin Sect. Because they were short of hands, Jiang YanLi went to the battlefield along with them.She knew that her cultivation wasn’t high, so she did what she could, busying herself with the meals of the cultivators. In the beginning, neither Wei WuXian nor Jiang Cheng agreed, but Jiang YanLi had always been adept at cooking. [....]Although he really enjoyed the soup and felt grateful for the cook’s intentions, Jiang YanLi had never left her name. Nobody knew that another low level female cultivator had seen all of this. The cultivator was a servant of the LanlingJin Sect. Since her cultivation wasn’t high, she did the same job as Jiang YanLi did. She had fair looks and knew to take opportunities. Out of curiosity, she followed Jiang YanLi for a few times before she was able to guess what was going on. Keeping her composure, she loitered outside of Jin ZiXuan’s house after Jiang YanLi brought the soup, purposely letting Jiang ZiXuan see her shadow.Jin ZiXuan had finally managed to catch the person, so of course he was going to ask questions. Cleverly, the woman never acknowledged anything, but instead denied it ambiguously, her cheeks flushed, making it sound as though she was the one who did it, but didn’t want Jin ZiXuan to know how much trouble she went through. And thus, Jin ZiXuan didn’t force her to admit it any longer. However, in action, he had began to respect the cultivator. He began to pay attention to her, even raising her from a servant to a guest cultivator.For a long time, Jiang YanLi didn’t realize that something was wrong. This went on until one day, after Jiang YanLi brought the soup, she ran into Jin ZiXuan, temporarily there to pick up a letter. Naturally, Jin ZiXuan was going to ask what Jiang YanLi was doing in his room. Jiang YanLi didn’t dare say it in the beginning. However, hearing that his tone sounded more and more doubtful, no matter how anxious, she had to tell him the truth.Yet, somebody had used this reason already.One could easily guess what Jin ZiXuan’s reaction was after he heard this.And so, right then and right there, he ‘exposed’ Jiang YanLi’s ‘lie’. Jiang YanLi hadn’t expected something like this to happen at all. She had never been the type of person to show off; not even many people knew that she was a daughter of the YunmengJiang Sect. In the short amount of time, she couldn’t find any strong evidence. She tried to protest, but the more she did, the more she felt cold at heart. In the end, stiffly, Jin ZiXuan told her, “Don’t think that just because you come from a powerful sect that you can steal and trample other people’s feelings. Some people, even if they come from poor backgrounds, their character are much better than the former’s. Please watch your conduct.”Jiang YanLi could finally tell a few things from Jin ZiXuan’s words.From the beginning, Jin ZiXuan had never believed that a maiden like her, born from a noble sect but had low cultivation, could do anything on the battlefield or help with anything at all. To put it simply, he thought that she just wanted to find a reason to approach him, that she was just here to add to the trouble. Jin ZiXuan had never understood her, and hadn’t ever wanted to understand her either. Due to this, of course he wouldn’t believe her.[....]Afterward, although Jiang YanLi continued to work at Langya, she only did her own things. Not only did she stop bringing Jin ZiXuan soup, she wouldn’t even give him a proper look.

(At the end of the flashback is the measuring snakes. JYL doesn't want to hang out with him, and he goes to grab her when she leaves. WWX hits him in the chest and JZX pulls his SWORD? and attacks, which ends up being blocked by LWJ.

So she does seem to have an actual job in the camp, and one that a servant cultivator does as well. The unnamed woman and JZX are apparently... not worried about poison?! Either being implicated as potentially poisoning, or worried about being poisoned. JZX enjoys the soup and even thinks positively of the maker's intent. (How did you survive this long in Koi Tower JZX? THAT COULD HAVE BEEN POISONED!?) Since JYL is not even widely known as being YMJ's remaining clan how much extra privilege would she really get at camp, beyond whatever was involved with making the soup? I do think that recent fic rec and what you have posted are very interesting points and much of it makes sense but not all of it fits what the text actually says.

...Ah, yes. I had forgotten that JZX is somehow naive enough to eat soup that someone has apparently just left in his room. Which is. creepy as hell, by the way, I thought she'd been leaving it outside but apparently it was in his room? What the hell was she doing in his room? They're not friends, they barely know each other, if she got caught they'd both be in trouble despite him not wanting her there and having no knowledge of her presence, and he never gave her permission to be in there. That is insanely fucking creepy. I believe this is another one of those things that everyone would find incredibly off-putting if JYL was a guy and JZX was a girl but apparently is fine when it's the other way around.

Anyway. First off, just because not many of the soldiers knew she was the only daughter of the Jiang sect doesn't mean it wasn't known. Everyone of high enough rank to offer any sort of benefit would also be of high enough rank that they would for sure know who she was. The rank and file not knowing a noble on sight doesn't mean people didn't know she was a noble! Also, so... JYL was doing a servant's job? When the sects would've brought plenty of servants? Note that the woman taking credit and doing the same job was a servant until JZX chose to raise her to guest cultivator status. And servants would be doing things other than preparing meals as well. So... JYL came along to do a job that other people could do just fine and that those other people would be doing as well as other things and also almost certainly was stealing food from the camp to give extra to her personal favourites and was breaking into a sect heir's room on a regular basis. Sounds like a waste of resources that would be better spent feeding and housing another servant, honestly. Or, since she's making extra food for her brothers and JZX, four extra servants. Also I love how that last bit is phrased like her in a way punishing JZX by refusing to even look at him when... yeah, that's what he wanted the whole time? All he wanted from her was for her to leave him alone. Nice of her to finally get the memo! Only took her a decade or so!

I also find it hard to feel anything for JYL when JZX stops her from leaving at Phoenix Mountain so he can talk to her, because like... you have been being a massive creep about this guy probably since you were children, you can deal with being kept in place so he can talk to you one time. JZX shouldn't have drawn his sword, but like. I do find it hard to feel bad for her regarding the slight discomfort of a man who has never shown any desire to hurt a woman in any way beyond "get the fuck away from me I want nothing to do with you" (which she then ignored) not immediately allowing her to leave when she wants to so that he can explain and apologize for his actions and give her what she always wanted. Like... oh dear! Did someone ignore your clear discomfort and insist on staying around you when you made it clear that you didn't want him there? Well, maybe you'll think twice before inflicting that on him again!

#mdzs #lotus sister #jin zixuan #asks #anon

34 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 58 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Katya found out she might be pregnant, the assistant network caught on to BDR’s latest paramour, and Violet was ordered to go home and rest.

This Chapter: Gigi’s new look gets the reaction she’d hoped for, the twins enjoy some one on one time with their respective partners, Courtney has a rain-soaked nightmare, Pearl looks (but doesn’t touch) and Katya stresses.

***

Courtney knocked softly on Ivy’s door, a smile on her face that had been there almost all day. Fame had thankfully left early, she and Patrick spending the evening at some fancy opera event at the Met, leaving Courtney to get ready for her date in peace.

Her first official date with Bianca. It was almost too exciting for her to comprehend.

“Hey Courtney, what’s up?” Ivy asked, looking up from her computer, beckoning Courtney inside.

“Well, I have a date tonight...and it’s really important and I need to look hot and...I thought maybe I could borrow something from the closet again?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. Um...let me just finish this email and then I’ll help you. Feel free to go have a look around, though.”

“Thanks.” Courtney bit her lip, sensing that Ivy was decidedly less enthusiastic about this than the last time she’d helped. She was probably in the middle of something important, maybe anxious about her own Friday night plans. Courtney felt bad, and would have told her to forget it if she had literally any other options. “I promise to be quick!”

“Yeah, no worries.”

Courtney kept her promise, pulling a short, royal blue dress with a high slit and a pair of strappy aqua shoes.

“Are you sure you wanna wear those shoes, Court? It’s kind of horrendous outside,” Ivy said, but Courtney shook her head.

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna be going into a cab and then inside. Thank you so much for your help!”

“No problem,” Ivy said, always gracious even when Courtney was obviously annoying her. “I hope you have a good time.”

“I’m sure I will!” Courtney exclaimed, taking the dress and shoes back to her own office to change, already feeling giddy with excitement, wondering what Bianca’s idea of ‘wining and dining’ would be like.

She took her time getting ready, freshening her hair with a curling iron she’d stashed in her desk and giving herself what she hoped was a sexy smoky eye. She kept an eye on the clock, knowing that Fame expected her to be in the office until 7:30. She chose a berry-colored lip gloss from the samples that Alaska had given her, and then stepped into the bathroom to get dressed, thrilled that the dress fit perfectly. She checked her phone and computer one more time before signing out, making sure that there were no last-minute requests from Miss Fame, and then made her way downstairs to grab a taxi.

She’s just settled into the backseat when a message came through that made her heart sink.

FAME: Dogwalker sick. Need you to walk Charles ASAP.

Courtney groaned, tapping on the glass partition to redirect the cab driver, and then texting Bianca.

COURTNEY: Still dealing with a work thing. I’m so so sorry, I might be a little late.

BIANCA: No rush. We can always push the reservation.

COURTNEY: I’ll tell you the second I’m on the way.

BIANCA: XX

Courtney knew that dog walking was an occasional part of her job, although it hadn’t come up yet before. However, she’d carefully read the 7 pages of instructions Violet left about him, knowing that Charles was Fame’s treasured companion and she would be toast if anything ever happened to him, and prepared for the time when she’d have to step up. She wasn’t terribly worried--after all, she loved dogs, and her own family had German Shepherds, so a big dog shouldn’t be any trouble.

But Charles wasn’t just big. He was massive, outweighing her by a hefty amount, first fighting her as she tried to put on the raincoat that he apparently hated, and then dragging her down the street so fast that she slipped on some ice, falling to her knees on the corner, immediately cursing herself for not listening to Ivy about those stupid shoes.

“Charles, sit!” Courtney was terrified that he would run into the street without her and get hurt, rain and sleet pummeling her face as she sacrificed her umbrella to grip the leash with both hands. As she tried to stand, a bus drove by, sloshing icy gutter water all over her. “Fucking shit!”

Charles, of course, paid no attention to her predicament, still single-mindedly bound for the edge of the park where he was trained to do his business. Courtney got up, shivering, and took him across the street, finding herself soon faced with picking up a steaming, human-sized pile of shit in the pouring rain. By the time they got back to Fame’s mud room and Charles properly toweled off (with him stepping all over her chest with muddy paws in the process), she was soaked to the bone and shivering like crazy.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, wincing at her soggy, lifeless hair and smeared eye makeup, knowing that there was no way she could show up for a date looking like that. She got out her phone, dialing Bianca’s number with shaking fingers.

“Hey, sunshine,” Bianca answered, and Courtney closed her eyes, cringing at how wrong that nickname was at the moment.

“Hi. Um...I don’t think I can make it tonight,” she said, trying her best not to cry.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just...I had a situation with Fame’s dog and I’m soaking wet and I look an absolute mess and I can’t-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa...are you okay? It’s freezing outside!” Bianca exclaimed.

“Yeah...I just...I should go home, I can’t-”

“You’re not seriously thinking about getting on a train to the Bronx right now, are you? You’ll die of hypothermia. I can hear your teeth chattering, for fuck’s sake.”

“But I can’t go out, I look-”

“Okay, then we’ll stay in.”

“But you wanted to go out, and-”

“No, I wanted to spend time with you. I’m starting a hot bath right now. Get a cab, come over, I’ll see you in ten minutes,” Bianca instructed, and Courtney couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief that someone else was taking charge of the situation.

***

Gigi couldn’t stop staring at herself in the hallway mirror, her fingers gliding through her silky soft hair for the third time.

It was the most gorgeous deep auburn red, the color bringing out her freckles and playing up her grey eyes.

She looked like a completely different person, and she loved it.

“Looks like someones been to Juju’s.”

Gigi turned to see Symone leaning against the doorframe, a smile on her face, the adorable gap between her white front teeth stupidly charming.

“What gave it away?” Gigi giggled, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“Just wait til you go shopping.” Symone grinned, her jeans slung low on her hips. “The underwear I have now is more expensive than any other clothes I have ever owned.”

“You got new underwear?” Gigi felt her eyes widened. “With like… With Sutan?” She bit her lip. Sutan had gone with her to the salon, him and Juju talking quietly while she was getting her hair washed by an assistant. They had obviously made the right choice, Gigi feeling like a superhero, but she couldn’t imagine any man coming with her to a lingerie store.

“Sure.” Symone shrugged. “It’s all ‘foundational undergarments’ and ‘French cut’ this, ‘t-shirt bra’ that. ‘You need a secure adhesive backless’. Where I’m from we just call those chicken cutlets.” Symone smiled. “For my first fitting, he asked me to wear high rise briefs and a seamless bra. I felt like my grandma.”

Gigi laughed, the tiny worry she had felt flare up already gone again.

“Do you want to cook dinner together?” Symone pushed out from the door, and Gigi nodded, this modeling thing already so much better than she had dared hoped for.

***

“Ah!” Violet moaned as Sutan pushed her forward, his body boxing her in and keeping her in place. They were in the kitchen, the counter digging into her hips.

“Hey gorgeous,” Sutan’s voice was low, his lips against her neck, his warmth breath tickling her skin. She felt him grab the edge of her skirt, hiking it up and over her knees, thighs and even ass as he pulled it higher and higher, pooling it on the counter, forcing Violet to hold it herself, his hand guiding her before he let go.

“Please-“ Violet groaned, his fingers digging into the fabric, every move she made exposing herself further.

“Please what?”

She could feel Sutan’s fingers glide up her outer thigh and Violet blushed, her core burning hot, her panties getting wetter by the second.

“Please-“

It felt absolutely filthy, and so fucking good, Sutan in complete control and Violet loved it.

They were both tipsy, their wine glasses and dinner plates in the sink, the dishes completely forgotten when Sutan had given Violet a quick kiss that had developed into so much more.

“Please what lovely eyes?” Sutan’s voice was silky smooth, nothing in his tone betraying the way his fingers danced over her ass cheek, nails scratching on skin, a fingertip sneaking under the lace.

“I-“ Violet swallowed. She felt like she was drowning, wanted to drown, wanted to disappear in everything Sutan was. “I-“

“Tell me,” Sutan whispered, his lips against her ear. “Or I might punish you darling.” He leaned forward, pushing her that little bit further, and that was when it happened.

“Ah!” Violet closed her eyes, a blinding pain shooting through her. “Wait! Wait wait wait!”

Her foot had gotten caught on an angle, and Sutan jumped backwards.

“Wait,” Violet took a deep breath through her nose, the pain already disappearing, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. “Fuck-“

“Everything okay?”

Violet turned around to see that Sutan had taken literal steps back, his trousers still tented, his dick obviously hard underneath the zipper.

“Mmh,” Violet nodded, the delightful embarrassment from earlier replaced with something that felt a lot more like shame, her eyes focused on Sutan’s feet. “I-“

“Can I touch you again?”

Violet’s head snapped up, Sutan looking at her, a glimpse of insecurity in his eyes, almost like he was the one who had done something wrong.

“Please-“ Violet opened her arms, and seconds later she could bury her face in his neck, his arms around her, holding her tight, kisses pressed into her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Sutan murmed, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know-“ Violet smiled, the apology so unnecessary it was almost comical. “I know.”

“Good.” Sutan pulled back, a hand in her hair tilting Violet’s head upwards so he could look at her. “Good. I shouldn’t have-“

Violet leaned forward, shutting him up with a kiss, her arms going around his neck as she held him tight.

***

When her cab pulled up in front of Bianca’s building, the doorman immediately rushed forward to open her door. She was fumbling with her credit card, fingers still stiff and cold, but he gestured for her to put it away.

“Ms. Del Rio is taking care of that,” he said, handing over some cash to the driver, then covering her with an umbrella and walking her to the lobby, where she was sent up in a different elevator than last time, directly to Bianca’s second floor, right outside her bedroom.

Courtney clutched her soaking wet jacket, trying to get her bearings when Bianca appeared around the corner, looking at her with concern and dismay.

“Omigod, baby, come here…”

Courtney barely knew what was happening as Bianca rushed her into the bathroom, helping her strip off her wet things.

“What the fuck are you doing in these shoes in this weather? And this jacket--why aren’t you in a winter coat?” Bianca asked, dropping it to the floor and then unzipping her dress, her voice gentle despite the scolding words.

“Th-that is my winter coat.”

“That’s not a winter coat,” Bianca informed her, pulling the dress down.

Courtney didn’t have the energy to protest, and besides, she was much more concerned with the dress.

“The dress isn’t mine, I think I ruined it-” she began, voice breaking, and Bianca looked it over while she stepped out of her panties and placed her jewelry on the counter.

“It’ll be fine, it just needs to be cleaned,” Bianca promised, leading her, still shivering, over to the jacuzzi tub, where a huge pile of bubbles was waiting for her. “I didn’t make it too hot, because I didn’t want to shock your system. But you can change the temp if you want.”

Courtney sank into the bubbles, the water silky and warm as a hug. After a few seconds, she finally began to feel her fingers and toes again, flexing them under the water, a sigh leaving her. She looked up, where Bianca was setting a remote control at the edge of the tub--which apparently controlled the jets and the temperature and even the lights. Courtney had never seen anything like it. She’d also put out a whole basket of bath products and lit a couple of candles.

“I’ll give you some privacy now,” Bianca said. “I left some towels and a robe on the warmer, and uh...if you need anything else, just let me know, okay?”

“Can you stay?”

It was embarrassing to admit, but Courtney didn’t want to be alone right now. Bianca didn’t make her feel weird about it though, simply took a seat on the ledge beside her, chatting about her trip, the trouble her staff had created while she was away, her voice soothing as Courtney leaned back against the terry cloth pillow with her eyes shut.

After she’d warmed up a little, Bianca washed her hair, strong and sure fingertips massaging the lather into her scalp as the other hand cradled her neck. She then helped her dry off with heated towels, and finally wrapped her in a warm fluffy robe while she ran a blow dryer through her hair. Courtney couldn’t remember ever feeling this cared for in her life, not even as a child, and if it wasn’t such absolute heaven, she’d probably feel ashamed at how much she enjoyed it.

She managed to swallow down a few mouthfuls of soup from the Chinese delivery that Bianca had ordered for dinner before her eyelids began to droop. Bianca noticed immediately, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then leading her to bed. She curled into Bianca’s arms, limbs growing heavy as hands stroked her back soothingly.

“Do you feel better now, angel?” Bianca asked.

“I felt better the second I walked in the door,” Courtney murmured.

“Yeah?”

“I guess there’s not really a door. The second I stepped off your elevator,” Courtney said, making Bianca laugh, her sleepiness causing her to be more honest than was probably called for, adding a whispered, “You make everything better.”

***

Pearl sat at a stool towards the back of the club, nursing a drink while telling herself over and over again that she was doing nothing wrong.

For one thing, she and Adore were over. Actually, fully over. And for another, she had no idea if Dahlia was even dancing tonight. She’d just come by for a casual drink...for the third time in 3 days. Just to see. Just to look.

And there was nothing wrong with looking, right? Even if she had lied to Trixie and Katya about where she was.

Pearl had already brushed off a parade of girls, tipping all of them, but saying no to everything else they offered, since she didn’t want to miss her chance of seeing Dahlia.

She was just about to give up, when one of the last dancers of the night came on, and there, there she was.

Dahlia was just as beautiful as Pearl remembered her, even more beautiful actually, since her costume for the night was the naughtiest sheer black teddy and lace panties, tiny little pink bows attached to the spaghetti straps of her top.

Her brown hair was styled in a delicate mess of brown curls, her plump lips painted pink, her eyes heavy and sultry, Dahlia looking like a sex kitten getting ready to go on the prowl.

Pearl swallowed as ‘Kiss It Better’ by Rihanna started playing, taking a big gulp of her drink.

Pearl hadn’t known if she wanted Dahlia to notice that she was there, hadn’t really thought this through at all, but when Dahlia dipped down on the pole, her ass beyond perfection, their eyes met across the room.

Pearl watched as Dahlia’s lips parted for a second, her eyes widening, but then, she smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

***

“Mmh,” Raven moaned, her fingers in Raja’s long dark hair, her fiancée's lips on her neck, one of her hands up her top. They had been watching a movie on the couch, staying in just the two of them such a rare treat that they had even made popcorn. “Please-”

“Please?” Raja grinned, her long body on top of Raven’s under their blanket, their movie completely forgotten. “Are you being polite princess?”

“Fuck off.” Raven showed Raja’s shoulder, which only made the older woman laugh. “I’m perfectly polite.”

“Sure,” Raja smiled, shifting her knee so it slid in between Raven’s thighs, her skirt riding up to make room for Raja’s pant covered leg. “That’s what I love about you. How polite you are.”

Raven pulled on Raja’s hair, a surprised gasp leaving her girlfriend. She thrusted her hips, forcing Raja off balance and down in a messy kiss, teeth clacking, their lipsticks smearing, Raven taking charge.

***

“Just a few more minutes.” Trixie smiled, his open palm resting on Katya’s knee, his thumb rubbing up and down, trying his best to be comforting.

They were in the bathroom, Katya sitting on the closed toilet while Trixie knelt on the floor next to her, the elephant in the room the pregnancy test that was lying on the edge of the sink, both of them doing their damndest not to look at it yet.

He could tell she was anxious, knew that from the second she told him that she’d bought the test after work, even before she admitted that she was afraid to take it.

Trixie had always assumed that one day he’d be a father, and he was certain that Katya would be the best mom ever, so in his mind, this news was either amazingly exciting or slightly disappointing.

But Katya was another story, her clear terror making him dampen his own enthusiasm so that she felt safe to express herself. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel guilty for being scared on top of everything else. He knew, also, that there was a chance that she wouldn’t want this potential baby, so he prepared himself mentally to support her in whatever she wanted to do.

“I love you,” he offered softly, adding, “And it’ll be okay, no matter what it says.”

“Mmhmm,” Katya murmured agreement, though her eyes said that she didn’t fully believe him.

“Yo yo yo, where my bitches at?!” called out a voice, the slur telling them that Pearl had been drinking quite a bit.

Trixie assumed that Katya wouldn’t want to be interrupted during this private moment, but apparently, he was wrong.

“We’re in here!” Katya called, and Pearl’s heavy footsteps approached the door, pushing it open.

“This is a weird place for a party, dudes,” Pearl said, jacket hanging off one of her shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“Umm…” Trixie considered how to handle the situation delicately.

“I might be knocked up,” Katya said quickly, and Pearl’s eyes grew large, her mouth falling open.

“Wh-how?”

“Probably sex,” she answered, and all three of them laughed, breaking the tension just a little.

“So…” Pearl plopped down beside Trixie on the tile floor, and a rush of gratitude flooded his heart, relieved for the distraction, understanding why Katya called her in. That is, until she asked, “Have we thought about names? Cause I’d like to submit ‘Pearl Junior’ for consideration.”

“Pearl Junior?” Trixie scoffed. “Why, you’re not the father.”

“Come on! Little Pearlie J. P.J.?!”

“I don’t hate it,” Katya said, and Pearl cheered, giving her a fist bump. “But remember, I might not even be pregnant.”

“True, but you guys are getting married. It’ll be relevant eventually.”

“Not necessarily,” said Katya, gripping Trixie’s hand tighter. He squeezed her back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“Yuh huh! That’s why we call you ‘breeders’!” Pearl insisted.

“But I just don’t-” Katya began, but was interrupted by the timer on Trixie’s phone.

“You ready?” he asked, taking both of her hands in his.

“No.”

“Well...remember, sometimes these tests aren’t 100% accurate. So whatever it says, it might not mean...” He reached out, catching a tear that had slipped down her cheek. “Babe…”

“I know. But I...can’t look.” Katya curled into his arms, burying her face in his neck. “You do it.”

Unfortunately, the stick was just out of reach, unless he let go of her, which he wasn’t prepared to do.

“Pearl, can you-”

“Sure.” Pearl snatched the test off the sink, looking at it, brow furrowed. “What the fuck does 11 mean?”

Katya’s head snapped up, reaching for the test while Pearl picked up the box.

“Why would it say 11? That’s so dumb, how do you know if...ohhhh.”

6 notes · View notes

grim-faux · 3 years

Text

07_A Small Echo

First

The air was heavy and muffled, every step he took echoed. The reverberations strummed through the back of his thoughts, weighing on his senses. It was wading through deep water, the resistance heavy and he needed to be somewhere right now but no matter how much effort he put into each reaching step, the air itself restrained him. Confined his body in a tight coil, choking air from his lungs. His stride became heavier, he wasn’t sure how much further he could go, or if the next step would be the last he could endure.

At the end of the gnarled corridor a door loomed tall, watching him. A lone and massive eye judged his progress, as if daring his resolve to reach the handle and trip the lock. Something awaited him. Answers, possibly. All the answers he could ever want.

But the closer he came to the door, the harder his heart throbbed, the more intense the pressure of the everything around him. The colors became intense and their flavor palpable, tart and thin. If he reached the door though, it would be better. He was certain. It would be okay. Somehow, it would solve everything.

A methodical chime crooned, tallying down the moments that he had left. Warning him that what is set in motion cannot be undone. A trick.

His eyes snapped open, and he had to confront the delightful truth that he was not dead. Wonderful.

Out there somewhere, the rain drummed against the boards of a window. He was so tired of the rain, so weary of gasping on the mist and only being slightly damp, but never fully dried; of his clothing being an outer skin, rather a barrier against the vicious onslaught.

He dragged an arm beneath the stiff cloth and smacked himself in the face. Mask still there. He didn’t normally take it off for rest, it was strange his first impulse was check for it, though he felt it crumpled around his face. He tried breathing calmly, but his sides buzzed. It could have been so much worse, he was sure, but being thankful for anything wouldn’t improve his mood.

Should sleep? He had to find Her. The Six. Tower. She was there, he didn’t know if she was all right let alone alive, but he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t do anything until he found her. The thought stung his eyes, and he emitted a faint crooning. He wanted to be there, he so badly wanted to. But he was so lost, so hurt, and afraid they were both going to die. And he didn’t want to lose his friend. He let her down too many times. He let them all down.

Drawing on some pathetic refuse of energy, he pushed himself up from the weighted fabric and edged forward. It was unbearable now, but this wasn’t unusual. Once he got moving and warmed up, he wouldn’t notice the tears or breaks. It didn’t stop the tremors in his arms. Slow first. Be careful.

He was badly tangled up, and it took more effort than it was worth to just get his legs free. Where was he? He adjusted his mask and gave the area a look over.

A room.

Window. He heard that. Too high.

Some furniture. Good. Not a lot of shadows, no visible spaces or notches, but furniture was good. At least it could be moved, with some force and a slice of lunacy. Furniture made noises.

He was on a busted sofa, not his first choice. Absolute worst. A novice, idiot, suicidal choice. The sofa was not in the middle of the room, but it might as well have been. Across the room, a doorway. He took a deep breath and looked over to his side on the cushion. And tilted his head.

Foods. Bits of what looked like meat and some wafer things, piled onto a napkin. Reflexively he cowered, but his lesser sense of self-preservation won out. Injuries forgotten, he tore into the foods. Half gobbling and choking as he sought to breathe and eat altogether. The whole choreography never worked well, since food was a rarity and having the chance to eat the food you did secure was rarest of all. It did enter his mind that this wasn’t quite right, and so kept his eyes cast off, barely paying mind to what he was shoving into his mouth.

Until a creaking board sent him scuttling to the arm of the couch. He shoved the bag over his face and continued to gnaw, as he cast his eyes toward that doorway.

The tall thin man in the hat entered, with a deep bow. Mono swallowed and swayed on the chair arm, already letting his eyes dip to the floor. It wouldn’t take long to tear the place apart searching for him, though he did already connect up who brought him here, who left the food.

This was the worst situation. Horrible. He set another glare on the figure, as it positioned itself by the wall. Not near enough to warrant anxiety, but not far enough to be safe. Everything moved normally – the tall man was not alarmingly swift, and Mono was not crawling through the air. A plus there. Not likely to last, so he tensed up and watched.

The Thin Man shifted closer, and Mono climbed to the back of the sofa. He strafed along the wall, rooting for a gap between furniture and plaster where he could get down. There was none—

A harsh screech splint the room; intense and more punishing than thunder screams. He tumbled to the chair arm and clutched at his bag, the electrical pop whittled at his ears like a cold spike. No amount of huddling or defense was enough, he didn’t think he could stand much more….

“C̸̖̟̖͖̻̼͆͋̋̕͝ạ̷̢͎̖̬͇̗̃̽n̴̦̝͔̲̎̿̆̀̍͑͜ ̴̬́̌̈̔̔̈́͋́̈́ý̸̙̜͕̯̟͓͉͇͚͇̈́́́́̒͐̍̒̉͝ơ̵̝͈̝̼̜͓̥̩̺͙̲͔̮̅̆̾͑̀͋͂̔̒͒̌̕͠ͅu̸͓̗̯̮̹͔͎͈͍̥̪̻̐͑͗͆̉͋̓́̽͌̊͗̚͝͝ understand me?”

Mono perked and tilted his head. Yes he… could. The ideal that he could put connection to the speek, given that it was his speek, was most worrisome of all. It was altogether, and with the way the adult always seemed to know where he would appear, and set a trap. This was wrong and concerning, and told him how little his chance for escape was.

He tumbled over the sofa arm to the nightstand and dropped to the floor, then, set himself beneath the piece of furniture. Now on the floor, he cast his eyes around searching for something more promising. If he could slip out of view for a few seconds….

“You want help to your… ‘friend’. Yes?”

Mono hissed in his throat but kept silent, instead opting to shake his head. The floorboards creaked with that terrible familiarity, and he poked his head up. No place to run. No place to hide. The man in the hat was thoroughly focused on him. Bad.

“You could resist, but chose didn’t. No fight.” The child glanced his way, and then back to the floor, rooting for fresh cover. “You should be dead, do think?”

Mono couldn’t stop his lips from twitching. Think he didn’t know that. Of course! This wasn’t fair. He pressed his head against the leg of the nightstand and crouched down. Should run? Floor open. No cover. Flee.

“Twice over,” the Thin Man posed. As reply, the child scooted further around the table leg. “It’s not like you to give up. It’s not what you’re made of.”

Mono tucked his head down. The Thin Man leaned over, peering under the table and trying to find the tell-tale mask.

“What is it then? You’re running out of chances.” The child muttered a sound. “Come again?”

“Want back,” he wheezed. “Want back her.” He coughed, more from shock than the discomfort of trying so hard to make words when it was not safe.

“Well, that won’t do. She belongs to the tower now. As do I.” And an unspoken, as do you. “You forfeited your time for negotiations.”

Mono poked his head up. “For-feet?”

“Gave up.” He reached to the napkin on the sofa and picked out a piece of wafer, and held it out for the child. Mono skittered behind the table legs, pressing into the walls surface. His gaze darted up, inspecting the hand and the figure beyond it. “You will need your—”

Faster than a whip, Mono snatched the bread and inhaled it. The Thin Man wondered if he was lucky to have kept his arm.

“Why take? Why is her stole?” Mono continued to dip and paw at the wall beneath the furniture, distressed and unable to keep still. His flight instincts on overdrive, but he hadn’t the opening to safeguard his exit.

“I’m not keeping you here,” the Thin Man offered. “But I won’t let you enter the tower.” He moved back from the table and gestured the room. “This place is on the outskirts of the city. You are miles and miles away from your goal.”

Mono crept out from behind the nightstand, checking the tall thin man and then dropped his eyes to the floor level. There was only the one doorway. “Then have start again. So what?”

This child…. “I said miles. Miles. Do you know how far a lone mile is? How much abuse and setbacks did you suffer, to come within a city block?”

“Don’t care.” Mono shrugged. While the adult was turned away, he clambered up the sofa side and bounded across the cushions. “She trapped. I’m not leave, especially friends.”

This idiot child. “You single-minded, stubborn, relentless fool. You are going to destroy yourself.”

Mono stood there and actually bristled, fists clutched by his hips. “So. WHAT? Hurt more in to leave! That desT-Roy me! S’not right!”

But he did have a point. As their twisting paradox was uncontestable, so was this urge to… do something. Anything. Even if it was self-destructive. Children didn’t know any better.

“I have an obligation to remove you,” the Thin Man cautioned as he wound back, the air vibrating with the sinister static. “If you insist on being a nuisance about it.”

Mono climbed back over to the nightstand, the piece of furniture swayed under his weight. As if the floor might’ve shifted during his absence, he once more skimmed below. “You won’t though.”

This tiresome child. “And what makes you so… assured?” In response, the child held up three fingers.

“Caught, woke up.” He set down the third finger. “Gave foods.” He leaned backwards over the armchair, looking down at the scraps.

The Thin Man tipped his head. “Is that really all it takes to gain your trust?”

“No….” Mono plucked at the callouses on his finger with his teeth, removing splinters. “I get friend mine back, and you won’t work stop me.” He turned the bag, so that it lowered and the eye holes peered at the Thin Man. “You for-feit?”

The Thin Man frowned. “No. I expected more from you. I anticipa— was prepared for the different outcome.” Mono’s response was lift his shoulders.

“Let me go the tower.”

Sighing, he tried once more. “It will destroy you. There will be nothing left of you, of who you are, strange child. You cease to exist, once you enter.”

Mono looked away, and he could almost picture the concerned twitch of his eyebrows as the strange child examined the room over. “I think… would okay to that.”

“ Wͪͩ̍̋Hͤ͛Y̆̊͆̊̈́͛͒!̵ͬͬ̌̆͂̍҉ ” His shout made the boy dive off the couch and flatten himself into the nearest corner of the room, where he huddled, his paper mask gawking. But given a moment and no action, the child calmed by a small amount. He continued to fidget and inch back. It took a minute longer for a response.

“I don’t believe. You are lie. And I to have do myself.” He shoved his hand up under the bag and rubbed at his cheeks. “Have nothing… else. I, um….” He curled down into the corner, hugging scrawny knees to his chest and trying not to look at the Thin Man. There was probably more he could say, but he didn’t know how to convey it.

It was painful. He didn’t do enough. It was his fault. He had to fix this. Was it fixable? She probably hated him, he was taking so long. She could be dead. He might never see her again. He did this. He should be dead. He could fix this. It should’ve been him, not her. This wasn’t fair.

The Thin Man sighed through the static and brought a hand to his face. The action caused Mono to recoil a bit, though there was no longer space for him to creep into. “Very well. I admit, I am curious to witness how you go about this. If you so desire, I will escort you.”

Quietly, Mono inquired, “You think can I stole back?”

“No.” He spun away, moving to the doorway. “As stated, your life will end there, and that is the sum of it. But I am exhausted of this fantasy.” He turned back when Mono remained rooted. “Are you coming?”

Mono tugged at his coat, gaping at the tall man in the hat, but unresponsive. At last he did uncoil, and bounded right over to the sofa cushion where the food was abandoned. He kept his shoulder to the Thin Man as he chewed on the remnants, then plucked up as many of the crumbs as possible until there was hardly any dust left. Cautiously, he climbed off the sofa, and gave his coat a shake off.

“Any time now.”

Mono finished checking his coat for snags or loose bits, then tentatively walked over to the Thin Man. Not getting too close, but near enough he could peer up and announce his preparedness with an unreadable expression. The Thin Man stooped and entered into the corridor. He was certain Mono was right behind him, though he couldn’t hear the footfalls at all. Children had ways of vanishing once a gaze was dropped. But he knew without a doubt the child would find his way to the Signal Tower, as he was initially instructed.

If not for Mono’s retaliation in the first place, and in his inability to destroy his youth, that all along was the primary goal. That was all that mattered. Deliver him, replace himself. Either way, the events twisted in a manner the Tower demanded. But he was curious now to see how this hitch in the pathways worked, and what its finality would mean. It would be interesting nonetheless.

Might as well bend the paradox further.

#little nightmares #mono fanfic #little nightmares fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #spoilers?#mono #the thin man #the man in the hat #the tall thin man #little nightmares fanfiction #mono fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

hanawrites404 · 4 years

Text

Wynne's Diary - Transformation with Dennis (@ptcovprimaryblog ) and Katrice (@feralforestbastard )

"Alright......it's almost done" I breathed, carefully pouring the breast milk of a dead woman into the boiling liquid mixture.

The potion was brewing alright for now but I was still nervous that I might make a mistake because you see, this was my first time making potions. Asra had given me detailed instructions for doing it and according to his report, I was going at the right direction.

So I moved on to adding the last ingredient, that was the rotten egg whites. After they were added, the potion glowed pink and a puff of pink smoke came from the beaker, smelling like rose perfume. But this all was just a disguise. What I had created right now, was actually poison.

It was for the rats at the barn since they were literally everywhere and were disturbing the cattle. So before Asra could go and dissappear like always, he gave me the recipe to create rat poison. And so I was preparing it, making sure to put the right ingredients in right quantities.

The poison was done and now I had to put it in something eatable so I chose a block of white cheese. I poured the liquid on it and the cheese turned pink and it emitted a nice fregnance in order to lure the prey towards it.

"Perfect. This should do the trick" I commented.

But then I smelled something burning in the air.

"Fuck!! My milk!!" I rushed to the kitchen to put the fire off. I took a cloth to hold the handles of the utensil and placed it on the table.

"Phew. Not much has been burnt" I sighed from relief when I checked inside. There was enough milk for preparing a nice cup of tea for me, Dennis and Katrice.

And speaking of both of them, where were they? I haven't seen both of them since the morning.

Oh god..... hopefully they both don't find the cheese and eat them!! That would be horrible!!

But then I heard a smash of the glass and some other wierd noises outside the kitchen.

And the scariest part was.......it was coming from the room where I was preparing the poison at.

I ran towards the room as quick as I could and I was shocked to see.......a blue cow and an albino satyr??? What in the actual fu--

"Wynne!!" The cow called my name.

"W-Wynne....." The Satyr too spoke.

Wait hold on a second. How in the world a talking blue cow and a talking albino Satyr appear in my room?? And how do they know my name??? God just what the fuck happened when I was checking on the milk??

I was speechless. The scene in front of my eyes was so bizarre that it had snatched away my voice. And the fact that both of them were looking awfully familiar to me also scared me.

There were many questions racing in my mind, but one answer shattered all of them when I saw an eaten block of pink cheese on the ground. Its plate was also broken and its shards were scattered on the floor.

Oh.....

Ohhh........

OHHHH...........

"Dennis, you fucker!!" I cracked my knuckles.

"H-Hey!! I'm sorry!! I was too hungry!! And the cheese was looking too tempting!!" Dennis, who had apparently turned into a cow, defended herself.

"Then how dare you drag Katrice into it too" I glared bitterly at her.

"S-S-Sorry Wynne. Even I was starving. That's why I ate the cheese. Please forgive me.......

Dennis did not do anything. It was my fault" Katrice, being timid as she was, apologized. Her voice sounded quite...... demonic, but I could hear the guilt in her tone.

I glanced at both of them, thinking of what to do with them. I then sighed and shook my head. This was literally the worst situation possible and the funniest part was that I was actually expecting it to happen.

Since Dennis was naive and stupid like a child and Katrice cannot help but follow whatever she does..............

"Katrice. You stay here. I'll see what I can do for you. Dennis, you have to stay outside" I ordered each of them.

"A-Alright.....Please come back soon" Katrice balled herself and sat on the floor and against the wall. I was feeling pity on her now. Only if she was a bit smarter...............

And talking about Dennis......there was no scope for her being smarter even for a fraction of second.............

I took out a leather leash from the cupboard and clipped it around Dennis' neck. I then pulled her up and went outside and she surprisingly followed me on all-fours as I was thinking that she would have trouble walking like that. Guess she was born to be a cow, it seems.

I took her out in the grass and tied the leash around a wooden stump tightly.

"Wynne, I love you but, if you are trying to bondage me, then please try to be a bit sexy you know. I really want to enjoy your dominance" she smirked at me.

I cringed in reply. Did she really had the guts to joke even after she had turned into an animal? A FUCKING DOMESTIC PASSIVE ANIMAL??

"Okay fine. I was just messing with you. Now don't chop me off and have me as dinner" Dennis replied.

"Well I was actually planning to, guess you caught me there" I glared at her.

"Oooooh naughty aren't you eh? Let me turn back and then I'll punish you good" she winked at me.

"Shut up before I take my knife out to dissect you" I threatened her.

Dennis tried to chuckle but it came out to be quite low and deep because of her current condition as she shook her head.

"You are getting very kinky, Wynne. Is it because me turning into a cow has made you crave for my milk perhaps??" She teased me again and she managed to slap my butt with her tail.

"Shut the fuck up!! It's nothing of that sort. And why would I even do that?? That's fucking disgusting!!" I cringed again, my cravings for drinking bleach coming in my mind.

Dennis laughed again, but it sounded kind of disturbing since it she was now having the voice of a cow, but I ignored that.

"I was actually expecting that answer from you, Babe. I know that you are not a sicko" she winked at me again.

"I-It's good that you know. Otherwise I was really going to sell you in the markets. I can get a good price for a blue talking cow like you" I huffed and crossed my arms.

"I know, Honey, I am the best after all" Dennis winked again.

I rolled my eyes and smiled a bit. I mean, she wasn't really wrong.

Dennis giggled at my reaction nosed in my chest, rubbing her head against it.

I couldn't help but smile a bit and caress her ears and head. For a cow, her fur was pretty soft and clean. She looked like a cow who has been groomed well and taken care of very efficiently.

"There there Dennis. You are still a cow. Come back to me once you turn into a human tonight" I ran my thumb on her forehead.

"Of course. You owe me a proper bondage tonight" she replied as she licked my chest with her massive tongue, making my breasts jiggle up.

"Hey!" I chuckled and let go of her, my cheeks heating up. Dennis smirked at me back, trying to moo like a cow which made me giggle more.

"I'll see you later Denny. Don't cause any more trouble" I instructed her and moved back to my house.

"Okay Winnie!!......" She replied back. But then I heard her muttering more behind my back.

"Mmmm the grass looks good. Can I eat some??.........hmmm.....Mmm! This tastes good!! Let me eat more!! Mmmm this is some gourmet shit!!"

I giggled at her musings and went in for Katrice. As soon as I entered my room, I saw the familiar Satyr who had not moved from her place even for an inch.

However, she was...... shaking, and was whispering things to herself.

I got closer to her and sat near her, placing my hand on her shoulder.

Katrice jerked from the external contact and looked at me. Her pink eyes were wet from tears and her lips were trembling. It seemed like she was in some deep distress which got me extremely worried.

"Kat....are you alright? Tell me what's bothering you" I scooted closer to the poor girl.

"Wynne....I....I am scared" she blurted out.

"Scared? What of??" I asked her, being confused.

"This....." She looked at her hands. No......they were claws. Sharp and deathly claws which looked enough to slit anyone with one slash only.

"I am afraid of what I have become. I cannot stand this. Am I......am I really a monster?? Am I going to hurt everyone if I get angry??" She kept asking questions to herself as more tears started to fall from her face.

I shook my head and cupped her face, turning it to look at me. I first wiped her tears off and then ran my hand through her beautiful white long hair.

"Katrice, you are not a monster. You are kind, caring and sweet to everyone. You are like a shy baby and we all love you for that. Never in my life I have met such a wonderful person like you and I'm doubting that I ever will" I told her.

"R-Really??" She brightened up a bit, glancing up at me with some hope in her eyes.

I smiled and nodded, confirming whatever I had just said.

But Katrice frowned again and looked down.

"What about my appearance?? I look ugly I bet" she sniffed sadly.

"Honestly, you look pretty tempting for a demon. But that's not a bad thing at all. Deception from looks is often very difficult to do but it looks like it would be a piece of cake for you" I winked at her.

Katrice finally giggled and smiled brightly as she hugged me close. It was kind of a surprise that even after turning into a demon, her welcoming scent was still there as I slowly succumbed into her embrace and hugged her back.

"Thank you Wynne.....I really needed that" she told me.

"No problem, Sweet" I smiled and rested my head on her chest, pulling her closer.

Later when Asra returned, he had turned Dennis and Katrice back to normal. And I am glad he did. It's not that I didn't like them turning into an animal and a demon though. Truthfully speaking, it was a pleasant experience for me. Maybe I can try turning them into butterflies next?? I gotta look for a potion for that though.

Funny.....Who had expected that a rat poison could have made my day really eventful and interesting?? Not to mention deepen my interest in potions.............

The end..........

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #wynne toprak #arcana mc #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #31daysofarcana #oc x oc #what I wrote

12 notes · View notes

mittensmorgul · 4 years

Text

So everyone around here should know by now that I find s6 really narratively shaky, and it clearly has its ups and downs. That murky middle section I cringe my way through every time, some dubious-at-best standalone eps. But it also has some of my absolute favorite episodes in the entire series. 6.11 is right there. 6.09 is the most delightful soulless!Sam episode and just delightful in general. 6.15 tops most people’s lists. And then the run I watched today-- 6.17 through 6.21.

I went back to the Hellatus Rewatch Notes I did over the summer, and wasn’t surprised to find just this one post with three short paragraphs:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/186154895705/619-mommy-dearest-ouch-this-marks-the

and this tag: #i just couldn't face writing long wailing meta about the manipulation revealed in 6.20 today sorry

I’m not sure I’m in any better place to write that long wailing meta today, but I’m going to at least try. The narrative we’re seeing spin out over the first half of s15 deserves it. I think it’ll be easier if I talk about this whole chunk of episodes at once, though. S6 might be pretty slapdash as a whole, but this run of episodes in particular seems to all be working together to tell a coherent story, and to be setting up massive narrative paths that Dabb Era has chosen to walk back down from a different perspective. So rather than talk about each of these episodes, I’m gonna talk about what they mean, for the cosmology of the universe, Chuck’s role in all of this and how the parallels have been drawn back to this by his actions in s15, and Castiel’s position in all of it. Dean’s, too, but I’m even going to talk about that in relation to Castiel, because for better or worse, s6 had played the long con on Cas, and as far as we knew at the time, the Storyteller had won...

We’ve all discussed the disconnect between Dean and Cas in s15, but so much of that has fallen into debates over which one of them was right or wrong in their disagreement. I don’t think EITHER of them was right, OR wrong. They’ve just been coming at this fundamental question of Free Will from opposite sides, for the entire series.

For billions of years-- or according to 6.20 at least 400 million years or so if Cas was standing at a shoreline watching the first fish flop itself up on land-- Cas has been. S4 established his character, showed us his doubts in Heaven’s plans that led him from loyalty to rebellion, through torture and brainwashing to fighting free of that in the end. That established his journey into understanding free will and humanity, truly, in ways that he expressed in 6.20 that he desperately tried to share with other angels. Most of those other angels... never understood, never had a reason to understand. Like teaching poetry to fish. Even the angels loyal to Cas, or who didn’t want to follow Raphael in the wake of the failed apocalypse, never seemed to understand this.

S8 gave us some additional insight into Cas, through Naomi’s description of him as an angel that never followed orders, at least not completely. That he’d always had a rebellious streak, or perhaps just a spark of curiosity and interest in creation, and humanity specifically. He refused to participate in horrors inflicted on humanity in the name of Heaven and had been punished by it and programmed back into angelic compliance every time. But until Dean Winchester, he’d never truly rebelled. He’d never rejected Heaven entirely. And even then, that rejection didn’t happen until season twelve. He’d still been trying to maintain a loyalty to the other angels even through s9 when Metatron told him he may drape himself in the flag of Heaven, but he still did everything for one man. I don’t think that was a lie at that point, but I do believe it’s something Cas hadn’t actually admitted to himself until that point. And he wouldn’t admit it to another angel until 12.19, when he told Kelvin in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t acting on Heaven’s behalf, but to spare the Winchesters.

(yep, even then, after the mixtape, after all of that, Cas was still on about Sam and Dean... and even in 13.04 as he argues with the Empty for his freedom, he still frames it in terms of Sam and Dean... ironically the same thing that Dean has taken heat for when talking to Cas, always making it “you, me, and Sam” in 11.23 and the beer run scene and in 12.19... Cas is just as guilty of not being specific as Dean is, for different reasons, but to the same effect)

Back to s6 though. Cas did make his choices. He was adamant (on flashbacks from 6.20) that Dean was “retired,” that he wasn’t to be dragged back into their fight, even as he was desperate to ask Dean for his help. (again, I still blame Sam and his terrible promise he extracted from Dean in 5.22 for that one) Regardless, that choice led Cas down a cascading spiral of worse and worse choices in a desperate attempt to shield Sam and Dean from what I’ll call The Story. Except in doing so, he’d only kept digging the hole for himself deeper and deeper, not realizing that he hadn’t been set up to be the hero, but the villain.

This is the position Chuck seems to desperately want Sam and/or Dean to finally accept in s15:

Chuck: No, this is more, this is….. hope. That’s what’s stopping me. You, you still think that Dean and Cas are gonna fly through those doors just in the nick of time. You still think that you’re the hero of this story. You still think you can win.

And that’s exactly the taunt Metatron used on Cas in 9.18. And it’s exactly the taunt Crowley used on Cas in 6.20:

CROWLEY You kill my hunters. Why can't I kill yours? CASTIEL They're my friends. CROWLEY You can't have friends, not anymore. I mean, my God. You're losing it! CASTIEL I'm fine. CROWLEY Yeah. You're the very picture of mental health. Come on. You don't think I know what this is all about? CASTIEL Enlighten me. CROWLEY The big lie -- the Winchesters still buy it. The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore.

and this is part of a much larger passage-- their entire conversation in Hell-- but the point boils down to this:

CROWLEY Granted. Yes. But just to show you how serious I am about this scheme...How about I float you a little loan? Say, 50 large? 50,000 souls from the pit. You can take them up to heaven. Make quite a showing. It's either this or the Apocalypse all over again. Everything you've worked for -- everything that Sam and Dean have worked for -- gone. You can save us, Castiel. God chose you to save us. And I think...Deep down...You know that.

YOU CAN SAVE EVERYONE, CASTIEL. Dean, Sam, Humanity, Earth-- even Heaven and, grudgingly, Hell too. And in doing so, prove God resurrected you for a PURPOSE. This was what Cas needed, what motivated him the entire year he resisted bowing to Raphael and obediently falling in line while the apocalypse started up again. He could have a purpose, a mission.

Cas had still been struggling with this in Dabb Era. His desperation to “get a win” in 12.19 stemmed directly from this absolute fall into hubris from s6, ending in the release of the Leviathan and Cas’s apparent death again in 7.02. He’s been trying to atone for that guilt ever since.

But in all of this, Cas has never really forgotten what it was to be an angel, what it meant to serve God and to serve Heaven. There was no free will. The few times he questioned his orders, he was punished, tortured, and reprogrammed back into line. He’s fully aware of all of this. For him, learning the extent of Chuck’s manipulation of the story is more a confirmation of his entire experience over billions of years, while that revelation absolutely shattered Dean. For Dean’s entire life-- the blink of an eye for an angel-- he’s believed in very little other than his own personal choices.

Essays have been written about Dean’s underclass upbringing, his life on the fringes of society as a drifter and a con artist, going from town to town under false identities and living a life in the shadows. And yet Dean has always believed that was of his own choice. That he wouldn’t have chosen to do anything else, that he would’ve been bored in a “normal life,” and proved that in season six when he leaves his last chance at a normal life behind with Lisa and Ben and throws himself entirely back into hunting. Because that’s the tragedy. That’s Chuck’s story for both Sam and Dean... they don’t get to be happy.

(this is why I don’t trust Eileen’s story with Sam, fwiw, because that was literally exactly the story Chuck intended her for, exactly the same as Lisa)

This was Sam’s story with Jess from the pilot episode. This was Dean’s story with Cassie, Sam’s story with Amelia... with Rowena... Every time they have a chance at a relationship, Chuck turned it into a tragedy.

But back to the point here...

Dean prized his free will above all else. He’s doubled down on that sentiment even in s15 talking to the girl he didn’t yet know was actually Lilith, confirming that he’d never want to live in a world where all his choices were made for him, or where the whole game he was playing was engineered specifically for him to lose. He’d always stood firm on the point that-- for better or worse-- all of his choices had truly been his own.

(again, why “I didn’t have another choice” is the worst thing any character can say on this show)

For Dean, Chuck’s revelation shattered him, possibly even more than Cas’s betrayal in 6.20 did. And for all he cares for Dean, for all he’s studied Dean and learned about humanity and free will from Dean over the last decade, Cas still can’t understand why, because it’s not the same identity-destroying revelation for him, as an angel who’d had to fight for every choice he’s ever made, as it was for Dean who based his entire worldview on the choices that made him who he is as a person.

And s15 is taking all of these themes from the run up to the end of s6, and turning them inside out.

What makes a hero?

What power do we have against “destiny?”

What power do we have against a seemingly unassailable enemy?

What morally or objectively wrong paths will we be led down before we discover it’s all a trap?

What chance do we have at real happiness, and what would that even look like?

What sacrifices are we willing to make to ensure that humanity overall will prevail against impossible odds?

What ~actually~ needs to be done to stop the eternal cycle of apocalyptic tragedy that Chuck has put them through from the start? (Raphael just wanted to reboot s5, Chuck has shown his hand that horrific tragedy is always his intended endgame, regardless of what form it takes)

Can we achieve a real victory without unleashing an even greater horror on the world for once? (s6 ended with Godstiel eating purgatory, s7 started with the Leviathans escaping into the world, and now Chuck is obsessed with Leviathans and monsters again in s15, while Jack is literally consuming angel hearts and supposedly attempting to gain enough power to kill God... but what will consuming that power make Jack into? He’s already “eaten” Michael, Cas has already stopped Belphegor from “eating Hell” and becoming a new evil god, but Rowena ended up becoming the vessel of Death that brought all those souls back to Hell, effectively neutralizing that particular threat at least for the time being... but this is definitely something I’m still mindful of as the season progresses)

All of these questions were crucial in s6, and throughout the entire series, but this was Cas’s character turning point, and it’s what he’s been fighting his way back from ever since. I can’t help but think that-- like with Belphegor in 15.03, like his choice to return to the Winchesters in 15.06, like his journey to Purgatory with Dean in 15.09-- he’ll be confronted with these specific choices again.

A few other points from these episodes that I think are interesting to keep in mind:

6.17 and the confrontation with Fate herself. If Chuck doesn’t get you, Fate will, or so it would seem. A lot of the themes of this one hit again in 13.19 Funeralia, with why we shouldn’t mess too much with the natural order. I just watched it a couple nights ago, so it’s incredibly fresh in my mind. I still think that episode is incredibly important to what Billie is meddling with in s15, in ways that haven’t entirely been revealed yet.

6.18, and more time travel done right. But also, the Major Sign we all should’ve been more focused on in what Rachel revealed, and what the Winchesters accidentally tipped her off to about Cas. She implied that the Winchesters were becoming a massive drain on Cas’s attention and time in Heaven, when we know the Winchesters had hardly seen Cas all season. When Rachel investigated what Cas was actually up to, she discovered the truth of what he was up to with Crowley, and he was forced to kill her for it. What he wouldn’t do to protect his tenuous shield around the Winchesters? It’s taken them until s15 for them all to finally get on the same page.

6.19, and the pure pain.

6.20, oh right, THIS is the pure pain.

CASTIEL I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you. DEAN Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me. CASTIEL You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will -- DEAN You're a freakin' child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want! CASTIEL I know what I'm doing, Dean. DEAN I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't...Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it. CASTIEL I don't understand.

I think he understands now. Or at least he’s miles closer to understanding.

6.21, okay let’s just take everything from Dean and complete Cas’s fall into the role of Big Bad.

I know I had a point in mind when I started writing this, but I’ve written myself out again :’D

#spn 6.17 #spn 6.18 #spn 6.19 #spn 6.20 #spn 6.21 #s15 meta rewatch #spiders georg of the tnt loop #chuck's process #spn 15.03 #spn 15.09 #castiel winchester #you learned it from the goats #oh DEAN

23 notes · View notes

megaminds-destiny · 4 years

Text

We know that Megamind never felt like he had control over who he was or how he was going to be seen.

Roxanne on the other hand has always had a say over who she was and what she did in her life. Even in the times that she was kidnapped, she was always able to rise above petty emotions such as fear, or feeling helpless- no that was never an issue even as she was held captive. She has a will of iron, and the confidence to match! So why can’t Megamind? He can make a show and act all confident and puff himself up at times, but when it comes down to the real things that happen to him in life, he just seems to completely deflate, as if all that confidence and self esteem was nothing more than hot air. She doesn’t understand why he can’t just own up to his actions, admit what he has done and decide- completely for himself- who he wants to be instead. There’s nothing to it honestly. He’s being such a worry wuss over the whole thing, there’s no such thing as destiny. You make your choices based on what you think is what is best for yourself (keep others in mind too) and that is CLEARLY what he was doing as a villain (excluding the part about caring about other people too.) why else would he become a supervillain? Take over the city? Trick her into dating him without giving her an insight for judgement- like?? He must have got something out of it, and yet he keeps on acting as if he was actually the victim. As if he ‘never wanted to be a villain’ or something like that. He could say the same thing that he ‘never wanted to trick her’, and in fact, Roxanne can recall him saying things like that in the past. If he really didn’t want to trick her, then he shouldn’t have freaking gone and tricked her. It was so simple, and yet he has such a habit of over complicating things. Sometimes the world can try to influence you, but in the end, you are always in control of your own decisions. The tricky part to that was explaining it.

Sure, Megamind admires Roxanne and her confidence, but he would be damned if he knew how she got it. Maybe just because she is amazing and beautiful and smart, which let’s be honest, he could never be one of those things. If we begin with beautiful (or in this case handsome) there’s really no question about it. He’s an alien. Skinny as a stick, he doesn’t so much as match another person on this entire planet! His skin complexion- blue. The literal exact opposite to every other persons skin tone. Even the difference between the palest of the pale and the darkest of the dark skin tones in the human race were only different shades of the same colour. His couldn’t be further from the picture. His head, big and bulbous on the top, tapering so dramatically into a thin pointy jawline, there’s nothing about him that didn’t stand out, get pointed at, made fun of, stared at relentlessly! He can claim the title of handsome all he ever wants, but in reality, people only had to briefly cast a glance his way to become just how aware that it was otherwise.

Smart... it was complicated. Sure, he knew he was intelligent. It seemed that his race had a particularly high IQ, but with this high intellectual intelligence consuming majority of his learning capacity, he was able to become quite aware that he had next to no emotional or social intelligence. At times even plain old practical intelligence, or ‘common sense’ went flying out the window to make room for some of his inventions! No, Roxanne was in truth, the really intelligent one. She was able to decipher most of his plans before they had even been carried out. She could read him like a book, and react in ways he never imagined and render him baffled (and the next thing he knew, he was on the floor at the hands of Metro Man himself, having been so distracted by her it had cost him his entire game) No, his intelligence wasn’t even in competition with others truly, albeit his defining trait. What really was good about him? Or even bad about him? It was almost as if he was... somehow neither. Was he the Yin, or the Yang of this story..? With real experience on both, it was hard to decide. Mostly, he wanted to do what was expected of him. There’s really not much else. As a kid of course, he TRIED to go his own way, and the pushback was so severe it had left him bleeding away. All this time, he thought he was doing the right thing by the people by filling this role. Of course, he was aware that what he was doing was bad, but somebody had to do it right? That was what they had all told him. In fact, he read up on the Yin and Yang. A lot of features regarding the concept all pointed toward one rule- for there to be good, there must also be evil, and that is how the universe is balanced out. That was right. That was exactly what he’d been told. He never HEARD what his parents were wanting to say to him. They placed a destiny upon him that he never even got to know! He was left to his devices to figure it out for himself. And he fought so hard for the destiny he made up in his brain that he wanted! He wanted to do good things, and be loved or appreciated by some people, not excessively, just maybe not so much hated, and somehow it hadn’t worked out. He was a kid. He thought... he didn’t realise that it wasn’t up to him at that time. He hadn’t realised for so long, that his destiny was already chosen, and he was fighting it for so long- no wonder he had been miserable! That’s what you get, for fighting your fate. Pain, and suffering, and hatred, and misery. Bruises, cuts, blood and fractures, be pushed and shoved and yelled at and called names and made fun of and deprived and God it had been so awful, there’s still fear.

There is no way he is making that mistake again. If the city.... if they change their mind... with the hero being gone he supposes... now that there’s no good, he can finally change. Because they told him to. Because fate lead him there.

Fate.

‘The path we choose for ourselves’

That was crap and he knew it. There had been a couple of things that happened, he felt that maybe from here on, as the good guy he had the choice. Like Metro Man, but Roxanne was not at all impressed by Metro Man’s choice. As if the man had single handedly upset the universal balance, and by the looks of things he really had. There has never been more crime and destruction in this city than there is now. Megamind didn’t have a choice actually. Metro Man had for a lack of better words- f**ked up. And now, it had messed up Megamind’s position in the world (in a way that he had always dreamed about, but still) and it had directly caused a massive rise in evil in the common people, that wasn’t there before.

If he had ever needed any more proof that this Yin and Yang was truly the way of things, and that he had a destiny assigned to him from the universe, this was certainly it for him. It really couldn’t be more clear than now. And you know what else?

He didn’t make a very good hero.

It was hard work to do this job... harder than he had expected. There were some very evil people around that he had initiated run ins with, and come out looking like the loser of the fight (though thankfully, he hadn’t actually lost one completely yet) and if seemed SO hard to just keep things running peaceful.

‘Perfect and Rosy’

He was definitely inadequate, but God how relieving it was to finally have some people be just a big kinder to him, and obviously not everyone, more so it was a bit like just some people had come around to understand his change of fate, and that’s correct, it definitely wasn’t a change of heart, a change of decision, a change of uncontrollable Destiny assigned to him and followed through obediently by him. And this was where Roxanne had stoped understanding and begin to question- well pretty much the lot of it. He had tried to explain these things, but she seemed insistent that all these things were up to him. Imagine what could actually happen in the world of Megamind just suddenly up and declared- “I’m going to be a painter instead!” or “I’m going to leave the city and milk cows for a living!” No. The universe had purposely shoved him into these positions. If anything, it had seemed like he hadn’t been obedient ENOUGH, and he had some sweet little and also more impressive sized scars to prove it. If he just went and chose something wrong, there would most certainly be a punishment. And if it wasn’t for him, it would be cast upon someone else. And he couldn’t risk something like that happening again. Never again.

———————

So this was just a sketch I had done- a kind of crappy sketch, I did it mostly because I haven’t done a drawing in ages- but despite that I had no idea what I was doing when I started, I was starting to get somewhere with it in my head by the time I ended, and so it turned into a snippet of an argument between Roxanne and Megamind. I can’t help but imagine them fighting like this a lot after the end of the movie. The reason being, that Megamind’s actual main problem in life really never got solved. He did nothing but what he was expected to ever since that day they finally broke him as a child, and never tried to become or ask for more ever again. During the movie, hope started to arise inside of him that maybe now, things could finally be different since the situation had changed. He never broke any rules or actively tried to change his position, his role or his life in any way, he simply took the opportunities as they came to him instead of rejecting them like a proper villain would do. It didn’t seem bad at first, but because of what he did, because he tried a second time to acquire normal person privileges- because he tried once more to reject his Destiny assigned role, he paid his absolute highest cost for it as a punishment, and lost all the people he had ever held dear. That would be the last time he tried to fight against this ‘Fate’ this ‘Destiny’ of his that was hell bent enough on making him he someone he had never wanted to be, in a situation that did nothing but hurt him in silent but consistent way, or else suffer the consequences- now in the end of the movie obviously Megamind makes a comment about rejecting the idea of Fate and Destiny controlling his life, but the problem is he only says that because he’s not a villain anymore. Because the situation changed. The city lost the hero, the universe lost its Yang. In this situation, Fate would have it that he step up and be the new Yang, now that there is also a new Yin. Destiny is still in control, he never got to choose anything that happened or anything that he did. He STILL is stuck under the universes rule, that he must take what cards he is dealt Or Else, terrible things. And just like before he is going to continue to live in fear, now instead of fear of not being the perfect villain, a top notch bad guy, or else he gets bullied, made fun of, pushed back and called names- now it’s that he needs to be just a different kind of perfect. A perfect hero, who wears only white and doesn’t own weapons or creepy spiders. A perfect hero who always arrives on time, always saves the victim in question, always stops the bad guy from getting away, never fails to prevent something terrible from happening because it’s his brand new, shiny white, full time, life consuming job! That he would have chosen, but wasn’t given the open ended question. He complied to being pushed into this- and so therefore no one realises how bad for him this really is, it’s something he wanted for sure- but he never gets to choose his life for himself. No one ever tells him that it was just plain old bullying and terrible people that hurt him, not a punishment from the Entity labbeled ‘Fate’. If he messes up, he actually SHOULD be forgiven, he should be allowed to make his own chooses, mess up and learn from it, try things he turned out not to like. He’s never had a sense of freedom in his life, and no one will just sit down for a second and explain to him that it’s wrong. He’s had his rights absolutely taken from him, and replaced with an artificial mindset, a man made set of rules that he is manipulated into thinking that he HAS to folllow (otherwise that’s where the punishment comes in) he doesn’t have the option to go around and question this, I’m just about 100% sure he’s never even thought of it and that’s because he’s convinced that this entire thing is truth. It’s not. It was a fabrication that people used to get what they wanted out of him. And it never got solved.

#i probably took this a little too far #i just really wished that someday somebody would tell Megamind #hes allowed to be completely himself and make mistakes too #and if anyone hurts him just for that it is NOT justified #megamind #megamind 2010 #dreamworks #animated movies #analysis #rant #whump writing #hurt/comfort #movies #animation #art #traditional art #sketch #drawing #fanart

25 notes · View notes

ethompson928 · 4 years

Text

We are Bulletproof (BTS GANG AU) Chapter 31

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

There was an unforgiving bang as the contents that sat on top of the shelf toppled to the floor as Ally's back collided with the structure in a state of alarm after being interrupted by Namjoon. Her heart started to beat a million miles a minute, to Ally it was the only noise inside the deafening silence as the two parties stared at each other waiting for the other to crack and finally speak. But Ally couldn't even find the words, something was blocking anything that resembled a noise from escaping her mouth.

Namjoon while visibly irritated had a playful glint in his eye as his head tilted ever so slightly. He still held full control, he was aware she had no clue what was going on, and his eye caught the sight of the key dangling from the chain which was grasped tightly in her hand. Little rays of light bounced gently off of it as it twirled slightly in her hand.

"Did he give that to you...or did you take it?" He asked her quietly, very casually. There was a hint of curiosity but he knew full well what had happened and her silence and the brief flicker of loss of eye contact as she quickly gazed down to her hand and back up to him again gave him the full answer that he needed and that coy little smile he had on his face turned into a full smirk. He muttered a small "I see how it is..." but it was quiet enough that Ally didn't hear it. That was for him alone.

The bang had obviously drawn some attention as there was a small commotion from upstairs and before Ally or Namjoon had the time to do or say anything else they were joined by the remaining members of Bangtan, eyes alert, yet slightly confused once they saw the scene before them. Suga sighed in contempt once he put two and two together and his eyes hardened again. He knew this girl was more trouble than she was worth and had gave them all nothing but problems since the beginning. Now she was snooping where she didn't belong and he was just about finished with her. He didn't know how much more of this he could take without giving off...or breaking something...whichever came first.

Hoseok looked completely lost as his eyes made immediate contact with Ally first, he was so confused and had no idea what was going on. However this little exchange didn't go unnoticed and Namjoon uttered his name sternly and Hoseok jumped to the attention of his leader. But he looked torn and conflicted.

"Where's Jin?" Asked Namjoon seeing all but one of his men were present in the room, his question directed to Hoseok.

"Haven't seen him since yesterday." The man replied instantly, his eyes never breaking once from Namjoon. "He said he had some things to do and disappeared. He didn't go into specifics..." His voice slowly faded and Namjoon silenced him with a wave of his hand and looked away. Hoseok followed his gaze right back to Ally who had shrunk further back into the small corner of the room amongst the discarded items on the floor. "What's going on..." Hoseok asked, the confusion making its way back on to his face as he finally started to wonder why she was in this room in the first place.

"Seems like Alison here decided our generous hospitality wasn't enough for her. She decided to take matters into her own hands and disrespectfully ignored our rules and went hunting herself." Namjoon addressed the others in the room, his height growing as he asserted his leadership, his voice clear and unnerved. "And your little girlfriend here...or whatever you two have going on or want to call this, lied to your face and stole your key from right underneath your nose."

Hoseok's hand flew straight to his neck and realised the chain wasn't there. His eyes followed Namjoon's gaze and saw the small key dangling in Ally's grasp.

"How...why did you..." Hoseok stuttered his eyes reflecting the million and one emotions that he was feeling. Pain, anger, confusion, sadness.

"I'm sorry Hoseok...I had to..." Ally quietly called out to him, finding her voice, but it betrayed her by trembling. Her feelings were all too clear but she did what she had to do. Her vision was briefly obscured by the tears welling up in her eyes after she saw how hurt he was.

"So have you got us figured all out princess?" Namjoon interrupted her. He had enough of watching this weird Romeo and Juliet play out.

"No. No I don't. What the hell do you want from me?!" She asked, her voice rising with each syllable the tears finally falling from her face. Namjoon smirked at her.

"You." He finally said. Ally recoiled, but not in horror instead confusion.

"Me?" she answered as if the breath had just been stolen from her lungs and her head began spinning madly as she tried to process the information. It felt like the air was getting squeezed out of the room and she could feel the pressure building.

"It's always been you from the start...tell me what did those other boys tell you. Frankly I'm surprised you chose us...but then again..." a quick glance over his shoulder at Hoseok had the pair glance at the ground but Namjoon quickly assumed command of the situation once again before anyone had a chance to speak by turning to Ally giving her the opportunity to speak.

"They told me...that you were only using me for money..."

"Well" he chuckled sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging their shoulders. "They're not wrong. But I will let you in on this, given the circumstances. You were the intended target from the beginning." He pointed at the tacked up photograph of Ally as he spoke. Ally genuinely thought she was going to keel over and hand to bite her lip to stop herself from letting out the strained cries that were clawing at the back of her throat to remove themselves from her windpipe.

"Wait, you thought that it was just opportune that you so happened to be abducted from the club that night you were there? That running into Hoseok and Jungkook was a coincidence. Well let me enlighten you Alison, you were there that night because we planned it that way. You seen what you seen because I ordered for that to happen. Poor Yeonjun, the brilliant actor that he is, from our Junior Division volunteered himself to be beaten up so that you could 'witness' it and think that we only wanted you because of what you seen, but we wanted you for so much more than that."

"Hang on a second." Ally dared to interrupt finding the much needed courage to confront the gang leader in front of her. "You said that I was there because you wanted me there. You had no guarantee of that. I was there for a friend's birthday! A friend that you had no trouble in hitting on might I add! My advice - get some better pick up lines!" She recalled pointing at Jimin who let slip a small smile at the memory.

"No. Actually we could. You see we have been watching you for a very long time. We knew exactly when you would be at the club because we planned it out for ourselves. You see your friend Ayami has been working for us. We told her to bring to you the club because we needed you to be there and she knew exactly what was going to happen and when it would happen. Jimin already knew that you both would be at the bar, so all he had to do was get Ayami away from you and Taehyung waited quietly in the wings ready to swoop in and keep you company, but not before drugging your drink and before you knew it you were tied to a chair and all my boys had to do was make it seem like one big accident". Namjoon declared clearing up the situation.

"You are a very valuable asset to us Ally, but I will admit we needed you to feel like you had friends here. So Jimin and Taehyung were more than ready to play the concerned 'big brothers' to look out for you while Jungkook worked you into the ground to try and build you up into a soldier for me...I even tried as far as to get him to pretend to fall in love with you so you could lower your guard but even Jungkook couldn't be that good at everything we make him do. So that honour moved its way down the list and Hoseok had the great pleasure of that..."

Ally's eyes widened and moved to look at Hoseok, it was her turn to look heartbroken and she could feel a stab in her chest and Hoseok didn't even try to deny it but just lowered his head in shame. So it was true.

"However..." Namjoon continued "he let himself get far too attached. Don't worry this fool does have feelings for you, as I am sure you have feelings for him but Hoseok has learned not to mix business with pleasure and has already received punishment for getting distracted from what he was supposed to be doing."

"You used me?" Ally choked out at him, but his lack of an answer made her feel like her heart had just been wrapped out of her chest and the flood of emotions was getting to much for her. She couldn't think straight and all she wanted to do was to run and scream.

"It's not like that..." Hoseok went to answer but was quickly intercepted by Namjoon as he continued his monologue, the fact that he was winning was evident on his face. He knew he had full control of the situation and he reveled in it.

"So Miss Park" the first time in a long time he addressed her by her last name. "You were right in hearing that I wanted you for the money. In fact your family are very wealthy, tell me this, why did your mother and father separate?"

"As far as I was aware they were having relationship problems and my mum wanted to live back in America..." She stuttered in fear at the overload of information.

"Wrong. You don't know this princess, but your father is actually head of a massive mafia corporation. He's just like us."

"You're wrong!" Ally shouted, "He was a manager in a highly successful company!"

"Is that what they told you? Oh he was in charge alright! But of something completely different, you're mother and father broke up to protect you. Now look at you - in the exact place your precious parents tried to protect you from. You're family is worth billions and I plan to drain that out you! Not to mention it would remove a particularly thorny problem I have in my side so that Bangtan is the number one gang and the competition is obsolete. In fact your father and his number one group have been watching us for a particularly long time and its high time that I eliminate the threat. In fact, you know exactly who I am talking about because you've already had the opportunity to escape and you threw it all away!"

Ally's eyes widened as the revelation hit her like a ton of bricks. Her heart rate rose ten-fold and the banging in her head multiplied.

"Your father Alison Park is none other than Park Jin Young and one of his gangs, you may seem to recall is GOT7 - ring any bells?" He smirked knowing full well he was in control and he won.

All Ally could think of was - how did she get herself into this mess and what was she going to do to get out of it now?

#bts #bts scenarios #gang au #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #Jung HoSeok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #scenarios #au #mafia #RM #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #v #jungkook

1 note · View note

jazy3 · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 16X08

OH MY GOD!!! That was amazing! I cried. I screamed. I swore. It was SO good! The 350th episode of Grey’s Anatomy was incredible. There were so many call backs! I think they pretty much touch on every major storyline from the early seasons. On top of that Meredith and DeLuca finally broke up!!! I’m so happy.

Now onto the recap and review! Meredith finally has her day in court! She has to go before the medical commission about her license. The whole gang turns up for Meredith’s hearing. We find out that Richard just got back into town as he was away attending Sabi’s funeral. Neither Catherine nor Jackson went. That’s awkward. We learn that Teddy is sleep deprived because Allison isn’t sleeping and Owen isn’t pulling his weight as a parent. Link then gives Teddy his coffee because she needs it more than he does.

It’s nice to see them all getting along. Bailey then shows up and tries to pull so bureaucratic BS on the rest of the doctors and Richard is having none of it. Meanwhile back at the hospital the residents are holding down the fort while most of the attendings are away for the hearing. Koracick’s student from Hopkins is such a killjoy! I loved all the call backs to the crimes of seasons past! Also a big shout out to Meredith’s long suffering lawyer! This woman deserves a pay raise! She has her work cut out for her.

And as it turns out that’s not even the half of it because … THE SEXIST AGEIST ASSHOLE DOCTOR THAT KNOWINGLY KILLED DEREK SHEPHERD IS ON THE PANEL!!!! This raises so many questions. How is that man still practicing medicine?!?! How was he not fired? How has HE not lost his license when he knowingly killed a man in cold blood?!?!? To top it all off he’s late to the hearing which suggests that he’s still just as incompetent as he was when he knowingly overrode Penny and murdered Derek. WTF?!?!

His presence there becomes even more infuriating as it becomes clear that he doesn’t even remember murdering Derek or the way he treated Meredith. He doesn’t recognize her at all. The nerve of this creep. Poor Meredith. As if this day wasn’t already hard enough! They call Bailey to the stand and she is not happy about being questioned. She answers her questions robotically and acts like she barely knows Meredith at all. The flashbacks to past cases were great!

I get that Bailey’s pissed but her behaviour seems a bit overboard. Does she actually want Mer to lose her license? We find out that the U.S. Government sent Gabby’s Mom from a Detention Centre back to Honduras while Gabby and her Dad are still in the U.S. I hate this. I hate that this stuff is happening to real families. It’s heartbreaking. They call DeLuca to the stand. It does not go well.

I knew Mer being in another attending/resident relationship was going to bite her in the ass and here it is. I hate that Mer got publicly roasted when DeLuca was the one that threaten her when she tried to help after Alex beat him up. The prosecution makes it seem like Meredith came onto to DeLuca to fix things after Alex beat him up when in reality she wanted nothing to do with him and he came on to her. So stupid. I felt so bad for Schmitt. He tried to bring some levity to the proceedings and he tried to help with his testimony but wound up making it worse. I don't understand why Meredith and DeLuca are even still together at this point.

Man this trial is digging up all the dirt! Richard takes the stand and he lies to protect Mer when the prosecution brings up the Alzheimer’s trial. Then they bring in Richard’s assistant from the early seasons! They really pulled out all the stops for this episode! That must have taken a lot of planning. I wonder if the previous main cast members were supposed to be here too but the actors couldn’t make it because of scheduling. And the hits just keep on coming! From Richard’s assistant we find out that Meredith was never supposed to be at Seattle Grace Hospital in the first place.

She didn’t match there at all. When the match list came through and Meredith’s name wasn’t on it Richard put in a call to have Meredith brought to Seattle Grace. He always made it sound like she was on the list and he chose to accept her. The secrets are coming out! Then it gets really good. Alex is on the stand and the asshole doctor who killed Derek tries to pull more punches and starts asking extremely personal irrelevant questions about her kids. Alex says he doesn’t see how any of that is relevant and the asshole doctor tries to say that she’s irresponsible.

And that’s when Mer loses it. After sitting there and being quiet and keeping her mouth shut all day and doing as her lawyer told she’s had enough. This bastard took her husband and doesn’t even remember her. He doesn’t get to take her license or her career or talk about her children whose father he murdered. And that’s exactly what she tells him. Loudly. She makes an impassioned speech where she says the names of all of the spouses of the people that have died on her watch and calls him on the fact that he can’t do the same.

This bastard is a disgrace to medicine and he doesn’t get to sit there and judge her or say her children’s names! In response he continues to be an idiotic, incompetent, aggravating ass at which point Meredith has officially had enough and makes that perfectly clear. In response the asshole promptly kneels over and starts seizing. Karma’s a bitch!

In response Meredith helps assess and treat his injuries and as the paramedics arrive she yells at them to take him to Grey Sloan and get a Head CT. She makes sure that her husband’s killer gets the best possible care because that’s who she is. Outside the hotel Bailey and Richard have a heart to heart and Richard realizes that Bailey is jealous of the special treatment he gives Meredith. I didn’t see that coming.

At Meredith’s request Amelia accompanies the asshole doctor to Grey Sloan where Link and Teddy join her. She realizes that in addition to his seizures he also has a brain tumour so she asks Tom to operate and take it out. Poor Amelia. She’s come so far! Tumour Amelia would have performed the surgery and destroyed herself doing it. Post-Tumour Amelia recognizes that she can’t and gets Koracick to do it instead. That’s some real growth right there. Back at the hotel what remains of the panel decides to postpone the hearing but then Alex walks in and says they can’t do that because a massive group of Meredith’s former patient have come from all over to speak on her behalf. My heart! This groups includes the Paramedic Meredith saved when she was a resident! Katie freaking Bryce who we find out is now a Mom because Meredith and Derek and then Meredith and Amelia saved her!

Back at the hospital Amelia and Link are watching Koracick operate. I love Link! He’s the best! He’s so supportive and kind. And then just when you thought you couldn’t get anymore emotional a cover of ‘Where Does the Good Go?’ By Tegan and Sara starts playing. That’s Meredith and Derek’s song. It played on their first date. It’s also the song that played when Meredith and Cristina danced it out one last time. We cut back to the hotel to find Alex reading a beautiful and badass statement that Cristina sent from Switzerland to be read at Mer’s hearing! I’m crying! She is the sun!!!

We find out that Callie, Arizona, and April wrote letters and support statements too! And Addison Montgomery wrote one too!!! Wow I did not see that one coming! Alex is so smug. I love it. He knows he’s got them the bastards! Just then Bailey bursts in. She has something to say about Meredith. As the panelist says, “For God’s sakes who doesn’t?” Too funny! Bailey comes through for Mer and gives an impassioned speech about how she deserved to be punished but that she doesn’t deserve to lose her license because she’s too good of a doctor. She finished by saying that she is Dr. Miranda Bailey, Chief of Grey Sloan Memorial, “And I approve this message.” So funny! I love it.

Back at the hospital we find out that the asshole doctor died while having brain surgery! GOOD! That’s what he deserved. Suck it! It’s rather ironic considering he murdered Derek under similar circumstances. You reap what you sew you bastard! Amelia, Link, and Teddy arrive back at the hotel and tell everyone the news. Amelia is so happy that the asshole who killed Derek is dead! I love it!

Mer’s lawyer comes back in and we find out that due to the deluge of witnesses who came to Meredith’s defence and the fact that the Panel Chair murdered the defendant’s husband and didn’t even remember her two out of the three remaining panelists have decided to drop the matter completely which means that MEREDITH GETS TO KEEP HER LICENSE!!! YEAH!!!!

Afterwards Bailey and Meredith talk in the hallway. She offers Meredith her job back and she accepts! They hug it out! Meanwhile Maggie and Jackson are drinking back at Meredith’s house. LOL. And then Jackson tries to make a pass and they almost kiss and then Jackson stops himself so Maggie tells him to get out. Good idea. Back at the hospital Koracick’s student is a complete dickhead and pins Mer almost losing her licence on Schmitt who did nothing wrong.

All of the Schmitt’s friends and fellow residents turn on him, walk out, and refuse to speak to him because of this. God he is such an asshole! Schmitt was just trying to help. He honestly thought the hospital had made a mistake! Medicine like so much else in life is a team sport. People like Koracick’s asshole student aren’t doing themselves any favours by screwing other people over. Back at Mer’s place she arrives home to find Jackson leaving and Maggie upset. Jackson congratulates her on her win and leaves. Mer asks Maggie what’s wrong and she says that she hates him and never wants to see him again. Makes sense. There’s a knock at the door and Maggie leaves thinking it’s Jackson. It’s not it’s DeLuca.

He asks if they can talk and they go outside to talk on the front porch. After circling the issue for a season and a half Meredith and DeLuca finally talk about how Mer doesn’t see DeLuca as an equal because he’s not. She doesn’t respect him like she did Derek because he’s not worthy of her respect. DeLuca’s insecurities about not being on Mer’s level finally come to the surface and he realizes what has been obvious from the start. He’s not a part of her life or her family. Not really. He tries hard, but that’s not the same thing.

Like he says DeLuca’s her boyfriend but not her partner. And he never will be. He doesn’t fit in and he’s not on her level. Time won’t change that. As is referenced during the hearing Meredith was on Derek’s level from the time she was an Intern. DeLuca’s never been on Meredith’s level and he’s a fifth year resident. That’s always been the case. DeLuca’s an okay doctor. But he’s not great. He’s not brilliant. He’s not innovative. He’s just okay and that’s all he’ll ever be. Meredith deserves someone great. Someone is as amazing as she is. I’m so glad they finally broke up! I was so sick of this storyline. It was boring and nonsensical to watch from the beginning.

Until next time!

#grey's anatomy #Meredith Grey #16X08 #16X8 #season 16 #my shot #review #recap #critique #thoughts #350th #350th episode

26 notes · View notes

waywardwhump · 4 years

Text

Attic Angel

Thariel’s chest pounded hard in near-panic as she walked, her arms crossed tight around her in a self-hug. She flinched at every sound, attention snapping this way and that. There was going to be a fight. This was a stupid decision on her part; the last time she’d jumped into a situation without all the facts she’d wound up locked in an attic for twenty years.

This was going to backfire. When it did, it would be her own fault.

But she couldn’t ignore what the note said. It’d been taped to the front door when she’d returned from her nightly rounds. At first she’d been afraid it’d been from Sam or Marnie, and the ever looming possibility that one of them would discover her leaving the house alone. They’d gone as far as to split up their shifts at work in order to make sure Thariel was never alone at any given time, yet still she snuck out despite the risk that an angel would find and kill her.

But the note wasn’t from them. It was unsigned, it had simple directions, and it warned her there was a life on the line if she didn’t come.

And it had to be a trap, and she shouldn’t follow it, but the danger of someone losing their life was too much for her to ignore. Someone could die, and it was her duty to protect.

Thariel cursed herself as she walked. Sam would be upset. Marnie would be angry, and heavens, Marnie would look too much like May, and she’d yell at her, and it would be awful, and then they’d have to help Thariel calm down again, and they shouldn’t have to do that.

Assuming she came back at all. This was bad. Bad. Bad.

It washed over her like a wave of water, and she froze. Her breath caught in her throat, and she went very, very still. It was a wall of energy. Corrupted, unholy, invisible from the outside.

She reached out with her own power, tenitive, feeling the curve of of it stretch on away from her. A dome.

Another step, and another. She caught the scent of blood, heard the silence, too heavy and too absolute, and then she saw him.

“R-Ranizel?!”

His eyes turned toward her. It was the only part of him that could move; the angel was doubled over on himself, torso twisted away from his lower body in a way that looked agonizing. His wings were spread open, bleeding, with visible holes opened up through the meat just below the bone.

He trembled before her, helpless, impaled by the same energy that the dome was made out of. Not a sound escaped him. He could only stare, mouth parted, muscles straining for a breath that couldn’t come.

Thariel felt sick. She stumbled for him, falling to her knees at his side, her hands curling about one of those rods to pulse a wave of her own energy through it. It gave way far too easily, tearing at her touch like it was tissue paper.

Unholy energy specifically formed in such a way to be impossible for an angel to fight, yet also made to yield to a fallen’s whim. This was too familiar, too sharp, and the intention of forcing Ranizel into falling was too clear for it not to hurt.

It would be a simple matter to get him out. Thariel prepared another pulse, this one to bring down all the rods at once. Get him out of the dome, get him into the light. The moon was just a reflection of the sun, but it would be more than enough to stop the fall, to reverse it before the angel hit the point where he couldn’t be saved.

“Wait.”

Softly spoken as the word is, it hits her hard enough to have her whirling, turning to face the speaker with a coil of energy building in her hand.

She could fight a fallen. This fallen, however, wasn’t in a position to strike her. He sat on the ground, arms folded neatly in his lap. His wings lay relaxed and half unfolded at his sides.

He was dressed in all white, striking in that there wasn’t a speck of dirt or dust to be found on him. The thing that stood out the most were his eyes, red like blood taken from the heart.

“Hey there. You can relax; I didn’t call you out here looking for a fight. I just want to talk.”

Thariel clenched her teeth. “I-I don’t, I don’t want to t-talk.”

“Then don’t. That’s your call. You can just listen.”

The man didn’t move, didn’t budge from his spot on the ground. When he reached for her, it with with unseen hands, carefully controlled power shaped into the form of a claw. Thariel flinched as it brushed over her, sliding through her hair, past her shoulders, down her arms. Warmth pooled where it touched, a pleasant soothing heat that made her falter.

She could feel the strength behind it, a mountain compared to an ant. She was nothing compared to him, and the only reason this didn’t hurt was that he was making a conscious effort to be gentle.

The spark in her hands fizzled out. Thariel recoiled, pushing back into Ranizel behind her. She felt him tense and jerk in pain, but she couldn’t think to do anything but shy away from this massive current at her front.

His energy followed without effort, coiling about her like a hug. It made her feel very, very small, something fragile, something he could break without warning.

She knew who he was. Fear reared up in her, her legs buckled, her fingers dug thoughtlessly into Ranizel’s wing. “Lucifel.”

“Lucifer, please. I’ve cut my ties. Easy, there. Easy.” It reached past her skin, brushing through her chest, invasive, horribly intimate. He found the worst of her fear and softened its edges, drawing her away from her panic. She could feel her heartbeat slow against the pressure of his claw.

She couldn’t move.

In her silence he continued, “I don’t think I need to point out that this angel has tried to kill you more than once. He’s refused to hear you out, and as such he’s done nothing but make himself a threat. I also don’t need to tell you that the rules he follows that condemn you are the same ones you insist on holding yourself to.

“What we need to talk about is those rules themselves. Poor Ranizel here,” he nodded toward him, “he’s not going to understand where I’m coming from. You, though, I think you’ll get it. I think maybe we could be friends. Look at your wings...”

Warmth brushed down the place where her wings once were, dead and burnt tissue able to feel his touch were nothing else had registered in years.

“A human did that. A human tortured you. A human made you fall. Now here you are, trying so very hard to be a good angel, and your reward for this is attempted murder by your kin. You hold fast to your rules. You didn’t have to. The moment you fell there was no going back. You could have killed the one holding you prisoner, you could have stolen her key. You could have gotten out so much sooner, but you didn’t.”

“We aren’t allowed, to, to h-hurt humans.”

“That’s exactly my point. You followed heaven’s command to the letter, yet here you are, judged for a choice you didn’t even make. You were cut off from heaven by force, yet you’re treated like a criminal. Doesn’t that strike you as unfair?”

“N-not allowed.”

“Is your situation any different now than it would have been had you broken that rule?”

Thariel swallowed. The answer was no. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“It’s not my intention to force you into any role,” Lucifer said. “All I want is for you to think about it. Step away from your rules, consider what they mean. Ask yourself if mother really deserved to live out the rest of her days torturing you.”

“Angels...angels don’t hurt humans. It’s against our purpose.”

“You’re just repeating the things you’ve been told. Heaven has turned its back on you. They no longer hold you in their power. Won’t you consider, even for a moment, that May deserved worse than what she got? Some humans are awful. Not all of them, of course. I wouldn’t dream of suggesting that Sam should be punished, but there are those who would deserve it if one of us ended them before their time. Just think about it. Consider it. Think for yourself for a moment.”

The hand returned to her heart, curling against it, and she could see and feel and hear mother’s self-entitled rage as clear as if she’d just screamed in her ear. Anger flared, embers of it spreading, her fingers curling into fists.

Ranizel was still behind her. Ranizel with her nails in his wing.

“That’s what free will is. Consider that angel there. He has tried to murder you. If he lives, he will likely try again. If he dies, he will no longer be a threat. If we keep him here, and let him fall, then he will have a taste of what you’ve been through.”

Lucifer stood. His wings tucked politely into his back, his hands clasped in front of him. He took a step forward, and another, and another, until he was within arms reach, until Thairel was pushing herself back away from him as hard as she could.

“Be not afraid,” he said, rolling the words out wryly. “There is no right or wrong answer. You’re free to do as you wish, I’ll not judge you. But I do hope you’ll consider me someone you can call on if need be.”

“Nnn...nnnn.” Fear made putting her words together difficult. If she was brave, she could have argued the matter to his face.

There was sense to his words. He had a point.

But he was still the reason so many angels fell, and it is in his name that innocent people like Sam got hurt.

As soon as the thought entered her head, he spoke in response. “It is their choice. The pain they cause is through their own will. I would not make you hurt your friends.”

That was the problem. Justify an attack on a human by saying they deserved it, then watch as the system fails because the angels who are supposed to act with fairness decided it was okay to pick and chose which human they helped. That’s why he was dangerous. That’s why the punishment of falling existed, so people would know who not to trust.

“Are you so sure that stopping monsters like May wouldn’t protect more humans in the long run? We can be helpful like the angels are. We’d just help in a different way.”

Thariel shoved against him with every bit of power she had. He didn’t flinch. His hair barely ruffled. Terror at more than just the fallen cut through the warmth in her chest, and she turned to free Ranizel from his bindings.

The rods tore with ease, just as they were supposed to, and the angel’s desperate gasp for air cut off with a cry of pain. Thairiel shoved at him, digging her heels in the ground to force him to his feet, “fly, just get out of here, go!”

Lucifer made no move to stop him. Ranizel stumbled back, hardly able to keep on his feet, open wounds now bleeding freely. She kept pushing him back, trying to get distance between them and their enemy, and then Ranizel’s arms locked around her.

Her panic turned to him, now, she tried to push him away, but he had the advantage of surprise and before she could put any strength into it Ranizel spread his wings wide and threw himself into the air.

Up, through the barrier, into the night. Lucifer’s energy fell away from her, leaving her cold and shivering in its absence. Wind cut off all other sound save for the rhythmic beating of an angels wounded wings. Blood flicked off into nothingness, torn feathers gave way, and for the first time in far, far too long Thariel got to see the city from above.

When he landed, it was several miles away, on the roof of a building, the tallest one in the area. He hit hard enough to knock the wind out of him both.

Ranizel’s wings stayed open, as wide as they could go so that they were bathed in moonlight. Thariel didn’t know if he did it because he knew it would help, or if it was an instinctive decision. His arms were clamped tight around her, his chest heaving, his face buried in her shoulder. She could feel how close he’d come to falling.

She let him shudder and sob into her shoulder, her arms loosely coming around to rest against his sides, mindful to keep as much light on him as possible.

It was one of the worst things an angel could go through, and it was a miracle that he’d gotten out in time. “Pray,” she told him. “Call for help. They’ll bring you home. L-let me go, first. Then you can call them.”

“Don’t- don’t leave me, don’t leave me alone, he’ll, come back, he’ll, please-”

Scattered words, desperate for breath and for protection.

He didn’t pray, instead he held on like she was his only lifeline. He held her as she had once held Sam. And maybe he hadn’t fallen, but falling wasn’t the only pain an angel could suffer that couldn’t be undone.

#Whump #Attic Angel #Caretaker #Tw: Torture #tw: impalement #Tw: injury #Tw: blood #wayward's favorites

22 notes · View notes

youngbloodbuzz · 4 years

Note

Tell me about your characters! Answer 10 of your favorite of those questions!

sagklsdjfsndf bro thank you! i love talking about my kids

23. If your character could go back in time and change one thing about their life, what would it be?

venia: she would have run away from her normal life as the royal princess earlier after spending her entire life living in fear as a born fire sorcerer in a kingdom where using magic is punishable by death. instead now she’s on the run from being found out and having to fight her way out the palace.

andromeda: she would run deeper into the underdark instead of risking the life of the man who died saving her and breaking the heart of his wife, who andy highly admires and respects

theodora: i don’t think she would. she isn’t a believer in fate or destiny but she knows that everything she’s done, she’d do all over again. though i think maybe she’d try to talk to her brother more about what they had been through to get where they are now, as migrants and refugees.

33. What person does your character admire most?

venia: she had once admired her father as a child, but then she’d witnessed his reign of terror as she got older. then it was her mother, who she emulated to survive the court and life in general, but then her mother turned out to have known about ven’s magic the entire time and never said anything. and then her eldest cousin, the only person she ever willingly told about her magic as a young kid and encouraged it, comes rushing to save her at a moments notice and they escape the kingdom together, and... at this point ven’s trying not to keep her hopes up anymore.

andromeda: without a doubt hands down it’s professor essaris, a wizard and headmaster/teacher of her own school and the wife of the man, maximus, who died helping to save andy in the underdark. andy wants more than anything to live up to the expectations of max dying for her to octavia but octavia has her own complex issues with andy since she’s the reason her husband is dead even as she’s been trying to help her through her amnesia. it’s....a Lot.

theodora: it was once her older brother, jaxon. the one person who stood side by side with her in agreement of how to save the group and helped her do the dirty work. but it’s been months and months later now and one day she wakes to find him gone, leaving her a single letter telling her he can’t face what he’s done anymore and he’s off to find his own fortune somewhere far away. she burns the letter.

36. What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music?

venia: oh i have playlsits for all of them. she has a few but if i had to choose, ven’s theme song would be it’s a fire by portishead, but also instrumentally it’d be the winds of winter by ramin djawadi. maybe i was inspired by dany. what of it.

andromeda: televangelist and conversation piece by julien baker; i cannot choose one, my poor girl is so depressed lmao. and dead before the dawn by ramin djawadi which genuinely helped me form the idea of how she saw the sunrise for the first time as an amnesiac when climbing out of the underdark after being trapped there for two years.

theodora: angel by massive attack and caleb’s seduction by mark koven. her life is lowkey a horror movie.

41. Does your character care about how they’re perceived by others? How do they change themselves to fit in with other people?

venia: as a born royal first in line to the throne, she sure does. it’s almost an inherent trait from her mother, where she learned to control her emotions, her expressions, how to speak in court. it’s second nature at this point.

andromeda: being a six foot tall tiefling with grey-purplish skin, she makes an immediate impression but that’s not what worries her. she tries to come off as worldly and normal and not like a person who has amnesia and intelligence of 8 but it’s kind of hard when she assumes/lies in front of other people about knowing something when it’s actually wrong or not true.

theodora: for the most part, she couldn’t a shit tbh. mostly she wears a mask of whatever she knows will appease others to get her way.

51. Is your character the most swayed by ethos, pathos, or logos?

venia: i think at first it’d be ethos because of the way she was raised to respect arguments of such, but over time away from that kind of environment, it’d be in-between pathos and logos but mostly pathos.

andromeda: pathos undoubtedly. she wears her heart on her sleeve, she’s ruled by it. probably to the detriment of her own health and safety.

theodora: logos. it’s literally how she rationalized her way into saving herself and the group she was traveling with during a disastrous migration across uncharted territory in the winter (think donner party levels of disaster...)

54. How does your character feel about keeping secrets from the rest of the party?

venia: all day every day she keeps secrets. her entire life and existence is a secret. venia isn’t her real name. zen is in fact her cousin, not her brother. she’s terrified and paranoid, but on the surface she’s reserved sweet charm and smiles.

andromeda: for someone who’s generally an open book, andy keeps many things to herself, but it’s all always to protect herself and her heart from the shame of the truth. her amnesia and low intelligence and her experiences at the essaris grammar school did a number on her self-esteem and self-worth.

theodora: she has no issues with it at all. she’ll do it for the sake of herself and the group if she believes if it’s for the right reasons.

59. Does your character value their own best interest more than the party’s?

venia: at a certain point, yes. she grew up a privileged princess, and even though she has a good empathetic and diplomatic heart, she still has a lot to learn. and she’s just been thrust in a world that doesn’t care about her with zero warning or preparation so she’s going in cold turkey.

andromeda: oh andy....my dear sweet depressed andy. if it came down to staying safe or risking her life for someone, or even worse, a child, she would gladly lay down her life. no hesitations, no questions asked.

theodora: she’s alive for a reason and it’s because she made the hard choice, the only logical choice. she likes to think she did it to save the group, and her small family in particular who were a part of this venture, but really, she’d do anything for her own best interest. including cannibalism. no she doesn’t regret it.

73. If your character knew that they were going to die in a month, how would they spend the rest of their life?

venia: well. if she’s going to die, she’s going to die fighting in a blaze of righteous fury. she’ll find the fastest way home and find some way, any way, to convince her father to stop his tyranny. even if that means starting a revolution and dying a martyr.

andromeda: god. it would be such a quiet resignation and acceptance. like she knows she’s cheated death. knows it in her very bones, knows she should have died and not maximus. she would go back to those that took care of her in her first few months back into the world and say her goodbyes, but in a way where an unsuspecting person wouldn’t realize it was happening. she’d spend as much time as possible with them, and exploring the city, spending time in the temple of pelor where she felt most at peace. she’d think about trying one last time to find her real family but would consider it a lost cause. and then on the second last day, she would pack her bag with her journal and her favourite books of history and poetry, and quietly walk into the wilderness never to be seen again.

theodora: like hell she’s dying. she’s an undying warlock, she’d sell her soul double time to her patron to prevent it from happening. if that won’t work, she’d look for some other entity. it’s not happening. she will literally do anything to prevent it.

81. What does your character’s name represent to them? (Or: why as a player did you choose your character’s name?)

venia: ven’s name i specifically chose for an incredibly niche plot reason. venia means “forgiveness. consent, permission, approval,” and the etymology derives from the name venus, which as a goddess represents “prosperity,” and as a planet is also called the morning star and is one of the brightest objects in the sky. venus also represents lucifer, the light-bringer, a being who fell far from heaven. there is also a long held belief, a prophecy, in venia’s home kingdom for centuries that “the morning star will rise to bring the kingdom to ashes and bring forth a new world aflame.” a prophecy that’s driven the line of king’s mad with paranoia. and guess who was born as a phoenix sorcerer.

andromeda: honestly? i just really liked the name lmao she’s a haunted one who was born under a dark star, i figured a good astrology name would be fitting.

theodora: i also thought this was just a really good name but i mean, her full name is theodora cane which means gift of god and warlike respectively and when you put it together....i mean..... not too bad.

85. What would be your character’s major in college?

venia: political science and law.

andromeda: english and library sciences.

theodora: theo’s my newest so it’s tough to nail her down but i think she’d try for a medical degree but then drop out to become a private investigator

#asks #flyingflesheater #dude thank you so much that was real fun to get into their heads even if no one cares to read it lmao #dnd ocs #venia albright #andromeda lovejoy #theodora cane

1 note · View note

courtorderedcake · 5 years

Text

Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 8 / ?? - In which a true apology is given

*** ARCHIVE WARNINGS VERY MUCH APPLY FOR THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen -

YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN!

She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle.

DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE?

Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing

YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING!

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame.

YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE!

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing -

SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU.

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death.

I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH.

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come.

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before.

Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure?

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that.

Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time…

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling.

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief.

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps?

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled.

"Emma, I just need you to know -"

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -"

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave.

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One."

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma.

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach.

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness.

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters.

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth.

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton.

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma.

But they would never, never get through to Ursula -

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian.

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass.

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -"

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress.

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze.

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet.

What are you doing?!

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally.

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite -

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing.

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -"

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken.

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -"

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention.

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened.

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean.

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace -

"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning.

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things.

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually -

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion.

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it.

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise.

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships.

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets.

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck.

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet.

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning.

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone.

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory.

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches.

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies.

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed.

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle.

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!"

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily.

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did.

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed.

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again.

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away.

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle -

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her.

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals.

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - "

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - "

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand.

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water.

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."

"I am - "

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by.

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend.

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease.

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away.

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path.

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed.

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation.

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language.

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin.

Tell him. Do it. End this.

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left.

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape.

No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS.

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear.

She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and -

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before -

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton -

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

What!?

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?"

Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS.

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain.

ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily.

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard -

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

You will suffer for this.

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian.

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone.

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse.

What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING?

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea.

You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy.

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for.

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness.

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time.

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness.

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face.

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly.

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze.

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -"

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.”

"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…"

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - "

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan."

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan."

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details.

"What happened to Nil's armada?"

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'.

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders.

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum.

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets.

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle.

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine."

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead."

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly.

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug.

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily.

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island.

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?"

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?"

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals.

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately.

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck.

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth.

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful.

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma.

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours.

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror.

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair.

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand.

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light.

Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder.

Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice.

"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut.

A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back.

This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat.

"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade.

Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue.

Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat.

His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad.

Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees.

"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."

The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk.

"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps.

She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch.

Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."

Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"

Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?"

And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision -

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change.

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed.

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with.

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently.

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home.

19 notes · View notes