#Top Secret Abandoned Locations

[theonotti]

MIO | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Voldemort won. Harry Potter is dead. But the Order of the Phoenix is still fighting, with two surprising allies who have very different reasons for aiding their cause.

Warnings: Pretty angsty. AU where Voldemort did not die at the end of DH.

Notes: This is heavily inspired by Secrets & Masks and Manacled. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

That Final Night One Shot

Late.

They’re fucking late.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Theo looks down at his watch. 

Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

“How long are we expected to wait here?” Mattheo growls, pacing across the wood of the decrepit bar. The floorboards creak with every step. Theo is sitting at one of the tables, a sigh forcing its way out of his lungs as he watches his friend. In one hand is a cigarette, the other hand mindlessly tracing the vandalism that had been scratched into the top of the table. 

“Another ten minutes and then we’re fucking off.”

The bar has been long abandoned, making it their top choice for discreet meetings. They had cycled through a few different locations before they finally found the bar. The walls are a sloppy black color, which is mostly covered in 80’s posters, both movies and musical talents alike. Theo’s eyes drift from poster to poster. He’s seen them what feels like a thousand times, and yet he still finds it hard to tear his eyes away when he stares at them. 

An hour has already passed since their arrival, but that was due to the ungodly amount of wards and disillusionment charms that they needed to cast before the meeting, a ritual that has become quite routine. Once everything is set, they’ll briefly discuss what they’ll say, and then they wait. Theo finds the extra waiting time peaceful, usually. It gives him a chance to mentally prepare for the carnage that comes to his psyche afterwards. The guilt. The fear. But this time, the stakes are higher, increasing the tension in his muscles much too soon. He can feel the pain already in his lower back, and he doesn’t want to imagine the aches he’ll be feeling once he returns home. 

“Can’t we just kill them?” 

Theo considers this question as he lets his eyes jump back to Mattheo.

“That would probably defeat the purpose of why we’re here.”

“Sure, but I still hate Weasley and his stupid face. Just one Cruciatus curse at his ugly face would be okay, surely. I won’t even make it a long one. Four minutes tops.”

Theo boredly watches the smoke from his cigarette float up towards the ceiling as he ignores Mattheo. Every moment that passes increases his irritation. He finds himself wondering if it’s a power move on their part. They hold all the cards, so they can keep him waiting. 

Something in the air triggers, both men looking towards the door. Theo’s fingers tense around the cigarette as he brings it to his mouth to take another drag, his other hand dropping down from the table to clench around his wand as it rests on his lap. The dimly lit room has a smoky haze, all thanks to Mattheo and Theo disregarding the “No Smoking Allowed” sign that is appropriately starting to fall off the wall.

The door opens, Ron Weasley followed by Hermione Granger walking in. Theo has long lost count of how many times they’ve met with Granger and Weasley, yet it still feels jarring every time he sees them. Maybe it’s because their appearance catches him off guard each time.

Despite them all being in their mid twenties, they all look tired and worn. The rosey cheeks that Granger sported while they were in school are now gaunt and hollow. Dark circles are painted under her eyes, along with Weasley’s, and she keeps her bushy hair contained in two french braids going down her back. Weasley keeps his hair short now, and his body is more built than it had ever been when they were at Hogwarts. His boy-like features are long gone, with gray already peppering his ginger hair, and if Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that Weasley was in his late thirties at the least. The life in their eyes had long drained out, replaced with a coldness that chilled anyone who happened to be stuck in their gaze.

War hadn’t been kind to Theo or Mattheo either.

Mattheo has more scars on his face than he did back in school, and he grew his hair long in a feeble attempt to hide them. There was a time that he wore them like a badge of honor, but since the start of the war and his PTSD becoming worse than ever, they no longer were something he pretended to be proud of. He’s since developed an anxiety twitch, his whole face seeming to spasm whenever there’s a loud noise not caused by him, or tense moment. Though they don’t live together anymore, now that Theo has full ownership of Nott Manor, when they had, Theo could remember all the nights of hearing his best friend scream and cry in his sleep from across the mansion. It was more often than not, and it was unbearably hard to get Mattheo to calm down from the vivacious nightmares.

The opposite could be said for Theo. Instead of nights filled with intense dreams of death and melancholy, Theo simply doesn’t sleep. He couldn’t, for the life of him, shut his brain off. And while that had always been an issue for him to some degree, it had become exacerbated since his transition from student to soldier. Theo doesn’t know what being tired feels like anymore. It’s so ingrained in his psyche that it would be more abnormal for him to not be tired. All he can do is adjust, living off coffee and the occasional upper to keep him moving.

Weasley leans on the wall beside the door. His demeanor is much more unpleasant than normal as his eyes flit between Theo and Mattheo. Theo pretends not to notice as he looks at Granger, who’s standing in the middle of the room. She always did all the talking. Theo assumes it’s because of the way she carries herself, and they certainly take her more seriously than they could any Weasley. Besides being a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix, Granger is a war negotiator. She deals with prisoner exchanges and, eventually, peace talks. Although, considering it’s been seven years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Theo is less confident of the possibility of any sort of peace treaty happening any time soon. For the entire duration of the war, it was her that Theo dealt with when it came to these sorts of things, before and after their betrayal. 

She clears her throat.

“What information do you have for us?”

The strain in her voice is lost on no one. The tension in the air is so thick, Theo is convinced he could grab it if he tried.

Mattheo stops his pacing, turning to face her full on. His anger is palpable.

“Stop with the bullshit,” He snaps. “Let’s talk about why we’re really here today.”

Weasley’s hand tightens around his wand, but he doesn’t move. Theo keeps his eyes on him to ensure it stays that way before turning back to Granger. 

“You have Malfoy.” Theo’s voice is quiet, tone neutral.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward.

“We have Malfoy.”

Mattheo lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t continue to cooperate with you until you hand him back.”

Granger’s expression doesn’t change, making it clear that this reaction was expected. 

“He’s quite the bargaining tool. What are you willing to give for him?” A beat passes. “Or I guess I should say, who?”

Mattheo turns to look at Theo, who can tell just by that exchange of a glance that his friend’s patience is wearing horrifically thin.

“We can ensure the release of Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. And we’re prepared to give you the maps of the hidden prisons in Sussex.” Theo conveniently forgets to mention that they were already planning to give them the maps, regardless of the way things went at this meeting.

Granger turns to look at Weasley, who merely raises his eyebrows, before turning back to Theo.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.” 

Theo’s hand curls tighter around his wand.

Mattheo huffs loudly, throwing his hand down and smacking it on the bar top. The sound is so loud that Granger flinches, and Weasley pushes off the wall suddenly, but doesn’t move forward.

“You know bloody well that our heads will be on a fucking spike if we don’t get him back,” He hisses at them. “Then who will aid your bloody Order? You think there’s anyone else who will risk their necks like we have? Honestly?”

“Regardless of your help to the Order, do you really think we can just hand Voldemort back one of his best fighters?” Granger's voice raises just a touch. Mattheo takes a step towards her.

“You’ll be singing a different fucking tune when we’re dead and you realize the next on the list is you. You’re losing the goddamn war. Biblically. You need us. Alive.”

Theo waits for Mattheo to finish his outburst before he turns his attention back to Granger. He knows where this is going.

Fuck, he knows where this is going. 

“What else do you want, then?”

Theo’s hands tremble slightly. He clenches his right fist around his wand even more, the left bringing the cigarette back to his mouth quickly. 

Mattheo shakes his head, turning away as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with his want.

Granger tilts her head as she looks at Theo, her expression shifting to a tired one, as if the answer is obvious. When she speaks again, her voice is just above a whisper.

“You know who we want, Nott. It’s been almost a year.”

Theo’s nostrils flare.

“Not on the table.”

~

Suffice to say, the raid couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

How the Order could’ve been so prepared for them was beyond Theo.

One minute, everything seemed to be going to plan as Theo, Mattheo, Malfoy, Blaise and a few others sauntered into the safe house. Quick in and out. Nothing too complicated. The next, it was like the floor fell out from under their feet.

How did things get so royally fucked up?

Theo woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, covered in a layer of sweat as his eyes darted around the room. It took him a minute to get reoriented, and only then did he realize that he was in his own living room, laid on the couch with a blanket draped over him. Ripping the blanket off, his hands flew towards his abdomen. When he looked down, he found he was shirtless, but his skin was unharmed, save for some minor scarring. New editions to the collection. He then reached up and touched the top of his head. Nothing. Not even a scrape.

What?

Slowly, he kicked his feet over the side of the couch and stood up. The room spun for a moment, and his joints ached, but otherwise, he was completely normal. 

The manor was silent. So silent that it made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand up. Almost automatically, he walked across the floor, his bare feet cold against the hardwood. He tried to keep his footfall soft as he continued listening for any sort of sound. There, in the faint distance, he could hear… something. Grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair, he slipped it over his bare torso and zipped it up halfway before making his way towards the sound. 

Theo stepped into the kitchen. A flash of movement came from the other slide of the sliding door that leads to the courtyard. His hand instinctively went to grab his wand from his pocket, only for him to realize it wasn’t there. At the same moment, he also realized the person outside was Mattheo, having a smoke. His tense fingers relaxed, his arm falling back to his side.

Mattheo looked over as Theo slid the door open and walked out. 

“Look who’s awake. How’re you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Who healed me?”

Mattheo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“You wound me, Nott. You don’t think I’m capable?”

Theo shook his head almost immediately.

“It’s not as… clean when you do it. And I have the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his back, which was covered in scars thanks to a nasty run in with a car, a Bombarda cast, and Mattheo’s lack of concern to learn basic field emergency spell casting.

Mattheo sighed in resignation before saying, “You’re right. It wasn’t me.”

Theo waited for Mattheo to give elaboration, and when one wasn't given, he could feel his fingers curl into fists. Though Mattheo’s face was neutral, the tension radiating off his body could be felt a kilometer away.

“What did you do?”

Mattheo took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils before turning back to Theo.

“Theo…”

“What did you do, Riddle?”

Swallowing hard, Mattheo looked away from Theo.

“We got their best healer.” 

Theo blinked. A hostage?

“You took someone?” He asked, voice low. “That… that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that things ever went to plan. And not that they hadn’t ever deviated so far left and forced them to take hostages before. But there was something about the way Mattheo couldn’t look at him that made Theo’s fingers run cold. 

Mattheo shook his head as he took a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He let his head fall to his chest, as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore. “That wall fell on you. You were going to die, Theo. We needed…” He inhaled sharply before looking up again. “It was beyond us. We needed the help. We needed her.” 

Theo wracked his brain. The Order’s best healer? The Order’s best healer. Why does this mean something to him?

“Who is it?”

Mattheo leaned backwards in the seat so his back laid against the chair before he pointed at Theo, as if he was preemptively defending himself.

“You’re going to thank me. You’ll be pissed. But you’re going to thank me, ultimately.”

Theo’s nose twitched.

“Mattheo… who is it?”

Mattheo nodded back towards the house before vaguely replying, “She’s upstairs, in the North wing.”

Theo’s feet didn’t move, stuck to the floor like ice. His mind was running, a plethora of questions all begging to be answered. But his mouth forgot how to work as well. For a moment, all he was able to do was stare at Mattheo, who stared back briefly before nodding towards the house again.

“Go on.” His voice was soft.

Theo’s feet kicked on again, taking him back into the house as if they were on autopilot. 

Why the hell are you so nervous? You don’t even know who it is.

His wand was laying on the end table next to the staircase, which he grabbed and shoved in his pocket. His knees buckled as he walked up the stairs. Distantly, he could hear the sound of yelling and objects being thrown around. It didn’t take him long to figure out which closed door the sounds were coming from the other side of. He stood outside the black wooden door, listening. Trying to maybe discern who it was before he went in. 

He could just make out the wards that had been placed on the door. Laying a hand on the knob, he was relieved to find that he was able to touch the brass of the handle. Mattheo had been known to incorrectly cast the spell so no one could get through, which had more than once sent Theo or Malfoy through a wall. 

A shaky sigh pushing its way from Theo’s lungs and out of his mouth, he turned the knob and let himself inside the room. 

The color drained from Theo’s face.

Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving and anger radiating off of like a stove top, was you. 

Suddenly, Theo was back at Hogwarts, standing in the Astronomy Tower. You were no longer in your casual shirt and jeans, but instead, in your Hufflepuff robes as you looked at him and told him you were leaving to join the Order.

“This war is above us, Theo. Dumbledore is dead. Harry Potter is dead. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die. I need to do something.” 

“Yeah? And what about me?”

“You could come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And you know I can’t stay.”

The memory hit Theo like a train. His breath hitched in his throat.

You turned to face him, freezing in the headlights of his gaze. The way your fury faltered at the sight of him made it clear that you were having the same out of body experience that he was. 

You certainly had been busy. All of the furniture in the room was broken. The night stand had been thrown against the pewter colored wall, leaving a dent in the dry wall and the wooden pieces scattered across the floor. A picture frame that Theo hung and forgot about was in ruins, the brunette girl in the picture cowering in the corner of the shredded pieces of photo paper. Feathers from the pillows littered the carpet. The mattress had been thrown off the bed frame, which was also now broken. 

Though he couldn’t focus on the damage that had been done to his guest room. He was too busy staring at you with the same confounded look he’d had when he first entered the room. 

Your hair was longer than he remembered it, pulled back so it was out of your face. Your features had grown with you, your cheekbones more prominent, your eyes with more bags, your cheeks with less color. There wasn’t a corner of Theo’s world that wasn’t burdened by war, and, unfortunately, that included you. His heart raced in his chest as he looked at you. He had locked the memory of you deep into the catacombs of his brain, not allowing himself to bring them out for any occasion. There wasn’t the time or need for it. This is war. When is there a moment for reminiscing on the worst day of his life?

But now there you were, standing in front of him, with a dumbfoundedly angry look on your face, casual clothes and longer hair. The flood gates were now opened, and he was overwhelmed with memories of you, running through his mind so quickly that he felt like he was spinning. 

Your eyes still twinkled in the light that streamed in through the curtains.

“You tell Mattheo Riddle that he can give me back my wand and we’ll see then if he’s able to force me into this room again.”

Theo flinched.

The sound of your voice alone made him feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. You could’ve been cursing him out or singing in German and he would still feel the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball on the floor. Even with your anger, it still felt like a sweet symphony to Theo’s ears. 

He never thought he’d hear the sound again. 

Hell, he never thought he’d see you again.

Realizing you had spoken and he was just staring at you like an imbecile, he cleared his throat.

“You healed me.”

Your expression shifted, an emotion crossing your face that Theo couldn’t read. Standing a little straighter, you nodded.

“I’m a healer,” You said slowly, distantly. “It’s what I do.”

He snorted. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart.

“You could’ve let me die,” He pointed out, cocking his head to the side. 

You seemed to consider this briefly before saying, “In theory, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you, coupled with the unmitigated tension. Theo’s hands were curled at his sides, not from anger, but to stop himself from giving into the inordinate compulsion to reach out and touch you. To prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. That you were actually in front of him. You shifted your weight to your other foot.

“I don’t think I really could’ve, even if I wanted to.”

The words unsaid in this moment would keep Theo up at night for weeks.

Your eyes trailed down his body, studying him, taking in his bare chest underneath the hoodie. He swallowed hard, his body seeming to freeze under your gaze. Maybe he should’ve changed before coming into the room. At least maybe thrown on a proper shirt. He’d never had a hostage in his home before. There was no protocol book on the proper etiquette. 

Especially not when the hostage was his ex-girlfriend who’s now working on the opposite side of the war. 

You let out a strangled sigh.

“You have to let me go back, Theo. They need me. No one is trained on some of the things I am.” 

The shake of his head was immediate.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend what he would do if he found out Mattheo and I had you and then just let you go back,” He said in a strained yet soft voice. “I can’t. We can’t.”

Your nose twitched as you closed your eyes.

“I won’t fucking heal for him,” You declared in a low tone. “I’d rather be strung up in Godric’s Hollow to rot like all the other people he’s executed than heal for him.”

Theo tried to be rational as he considered what to do. There was a tug of war in his mind, his loyalties competing to decide the best course of action. The obvious answer was to turn you over to The Dark Lord, where you would be put on trial for the crimes he deemed you guilty of, and then punished accordingly. With the skills you hold, Theo knew that you would more than likely be put under the Imperius curse and forced to act as a healer for the Death Eaters. 

Though the answer was obvious, that didn’t make it correct. Not to him or to anyone else.

Theo knew. He knew you’d rather die than breathe the same air as the Death Eaters, let alone fix their wounds and send them back out to kill your people. His head throbbed as he tried to think of the best direction to go in. 

Because, in his head, letting you go was simply out of the question. 

~

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” Granger asks. “We have something you want, you have something we want. We exchange.”

Theo shakes his head as he smashes the end of his half smoked cigarette on the top of the table.

“She’s not for trade.”

“Well, she’s what we want.”

A bead of sweat trails down the side of his face. He ignores it.

“She’s nowhere close to being worth the same as Draco Malfoy. This isn’t a fair trade.” He means it, but not in the way that he presented it to them. Nothing they could offer would make it a fair trade in Theo’s eyes. They could offer the end of the war. They could offer his freedom from the Death Eaters. They could offer endless riches, or immortality, or anything else he could possibly dream up. None of it would equate.

“Then we’ll gladly take Luna and Seamus back as well,” Granger says through clenched teeth, expression reading that her patience is wearing thin. “To make up the difference.”

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Mattheo cuts in before he gets the chance.

“You’ll take what we fucking give you.”

Granger shoots him a dagger filled glare. 

“We can no longer afford to play these games with you. You have our best healer. And we need her back.” She rolls her head before her eyes fall back on Theo. “We have been patient. We have accepted that we had nothing worth trading for her. Now we do. Malfoy’s importance to the Death Eaters is well known. Don’t patronize us by pretending we don’t have the upper hand here.”

A chill runs through Theo’s spine.

She’s right.

God dammit, she’s right.

Theo runs a hand through his messy hair, the most he’s moved since he sat down. His brain scrambles to come up with something, anything, that he can offer to remedy this. There has to be something of equal value. There has to be something he can give that would make them decide to let you stay. 

“Before you try to come up with some feeble offer, know that we won’t be backing down from this,” Granger says as if she’s reading Theo’s mind. “You won’t be getting Draco Malfoy back unless we get her, regardless of what else you give. She’s the only card you have that could get him back.”

Theo’s eyes snap back to Granger, the anger boiling in his chest.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” He repeats her words back to her. She smiles at him, but the gesture does not reach her eyes.

“Maybe negotiation is the wrong word for it.” She hums thoughtfully. “It’s more like a plea deal. Take it or leave it.”

~

“You’re up late.”

Theo jumped at the sound of your voice as he quickly flicked the light on.

He didn’t expect to find you in his kitchen, sitting cross legged on the island counter with the lights off. A bowl of what he could only assume was cereal was in your hands.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s four in the morning.”

You glanced up at the clock as well, before shrugging. 

“Fine, you’re up early.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Theo’s mouth. 

He could feel you studying him as you brought the spoon to your mouth. A flush of warmth filled his cheeks as he made his way to the fridge, making it a point to turn away from you. Still, he knew your eyes never left him. 

“You still don’t sleep much, huh?” You asked, mouth full of cereal.

He sighed as he pulled the carton of orange juice off the shelf.

“I’d say I don’t sleep at all these days.”

He popped the top of the carton before bringing it to his mouth and throwing his head back. You watched him carefully, seeming to pause your eating.

“You’re a feral one now, aren’t you?” You asked in a playful tone. “Drinking right from the carton? Who have you become, Theodore Nott?”

He laughed, the sound being so foreign to him these days, before saying, “I generally live alone, and I never host other people. No need to waste a glass, as far as I’m concerned.”

Him ignoring the last comment of yours was intentional. Despite the playfulness behind it, Theo doesn’t know how you would feel about the man he’s become, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that fact. 

You continue to laugh as you shake your head.

“Mad behaviour.”

Theo eyed you. 

“Says the girl sitting on the counter, in the dark, eating cereal.”

You smiled as you take another bite.

“Got me there.”

It had been almost two months since Mattheo had taken you hostage and made you Theo’s problem. In an attempt to keep peace, Theo gave you free reign of the entire manor and all of the land around it. After repairing the furniture in the guest room (multiple times, as you had to get your frustration out somehow), Theo allowed you to stay there. Before his death, Nott Sr. had created a dungeon-esque holding below the house, with cage like cells and torture weapons, but Theo had the area of the house completely closed off upon his arrival as head of estate, and he wasn’t planning to reopen it anytime soon. Besides, the thought of locking you in an actual cell made Theo physically ill. 

“How’s the escape plot going?” Theo asked as he leaned against the counter adjacent from you, juice carton still in hand.

“Considering I can’t apparate because you already had anti apparation wards in place, the wards Mattheo placed that are linked to my DNA so I can’t leave the estate at all, and that bed being the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on…” You listed, raising a finger with every reason. “ … I’d say it’s going quite terribly.”

Theo’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he let out a surprised huff.

“Mattheo has always been quite meticulous.”

“Well, he said he was afraid you’d let me go.”

Theo’s smile faded quite quickly. 

The first couple of weeks following your capture, you had made yourself scarce around the manor, mostly spending time in the North wing. Theo made it a point to stay out of your way. Not only for the sake of your anger, but because he needed to work out his own emotions about you being there. Even in this moment, looking at you in the kitchen, he still hadn’t quite worked out how the whole thing made him him.

After the first couple of weeks, you had slowly started making your way through the manor, exploring every crevice. Every nook and cranny. Theo knew it was to look for a weakness to exploit that could lead to your escape, but he didn’t comment that to you. Just let it sit in the back of his head.

With your emergence from your room also came your increased interactions with the dark haired lad. It was painful at first, just a curt nod here and there, but it slowly built up to exchanging jokes and sarcastic comments, and even as far as the two of you reading books in silence together in the library.

It was almost as if there was never a moment between the days you and him spent together at Hogwarts and now. Just cut the time apart out and sew the rest together like the war never happened.

Theo often found himself wondering if he was one of the weaknesses you were attempting to exploit. 

Your comment about Mattheo believing Theo would let you go did nothing to snuff out that thought.

He tried not to think about it too much.

You watched him carefully as he took another long sip of juice from the carton.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me yet?” 

Theo rolled his eyes, setting the juice on the black countertop next to him. 

“Nope.”

He didn’t bother to ask how you knew it was even up for debate. You’d always had a knack for just knowing things. And he couldn’t imagine that his debates with Malfoy and Mattheo were as quiet as he would’ve liked them to be.

“What are you leaning towards?” You asked innocently, your eyes studying him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s see,” He mumbled. “Malfoy thinks I should turn you in. He doesn’t see why you’re useful here, and says you’d be better suited as a healer for… them.” He decided not to say Death Eaters, but you flinched at the idea anyway. “Mattheo thinks I should keep you here.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him as you took another bite of your cereal. Theo mirrored you with the orange juice. 

“But what are you leaning towards?”

“Not turning you in, that’s for damn sure.”

Your gaze pinned him, as your eyes narrow only slightly.

“So I’m stuck here then.” It was more of a statement than a question, and something about it made an ache burst through Theo’s chest. He had no idea how to respond, so he opted to say nothing, instead bringing the juice carton back to his lips. Your eyes followed him. “Theo, you’re a rational person. You know that I don’t want to be here. Why can’t you just let me go back to the Order?”

His eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s complicated.”

You set the bowl down on the counter before looking back up at him.

“Then simplify it for me.” 

All he could say in a breathy whisper was your name.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t even simplify it for himself. 

~

It all happens at once.

Theo quickly stands, pushing the chair out from under him so quickly that it glides across the floor and into the wall. 

Weasley rushes forward, his wand pointed at Theo.

Mattheo grabs Weasley by the scruff of his shirt, roughly shoving him into the wall with the tip of his wand jabbing into the ginger’s jugular. The impact of his back against the hard surface causes Weasley to drop his wand, which Mattheo swiftly kicks across the floor. 

Granger puts her wand only inches from Mattheo’s head, though he doesn’t appear to notice. 

Theo directs his wand to Granger.

“The difference between you and I, Weasley,” Mattheo hisses in his face. “Is that I don’t have any pathetic qualms about making a person suffer. So please. Point your wand at one of us again. We’ll see who comes out the bigger man.”

“That’s enough, Riddle!” Granger shouts, pressing her wand into Mattheo’s temple. Theo steps forward and jams his wand through her hair and into her occipital scalp.

“Drop it.”

A beat passes.

Mattheo’s face twitches.

Granger slowly lowers her hand, her jaw clenched so tight that Theo is convinced her teeth will crack.

“We all want the same outcome,” She says in a quiet voice, still glaring daggers at Mattheo.

“It’s how we get there that we can’t seem to see eye to eye on,” Theo growls. 

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Theo takes a step back towards the table he had previously been occupying. 

“Let him go, Mattheo.”

The curly haired man glares into Weasley’s face for a moment longer, letting his deep breath smack against the ginger’s face before he shoves him away. Theo’s eyes follow Mattheo as he walks back to his pacing area, and then they flick back to Granger. She looks incensed over what just occurred, as Weasley adjusts his shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks pink.

Theo opts to stay standing this time. 

“She’s not a part of the equation,” He says in a low tone. “We can give you the maps, Finnegan and Lovegood for Malfoy. Or we can give nothing at all.” 

A draft fills the room as the wind can be heard whipping outside over the silence. 

“And again, we are well aware of Draco’s importance to the Death Eater army,” Granger says in a tone that matches Theo’s. “There is no option. It’s her or nothing.”

Theo fights the urge to curse her.

“Then it’s nothing.”

~

The door hit the wall so hard, Theo could almost feel the drywall dent. In the moment, however, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

You whipped around to face him. The anger on your face couldn’t be missed, but neither could his. For a while, the two of you just stared at each other, speaking through daggered glares and heaving chests, as if words weren’t necessary. 

It was a moment of deja vu, calling back to the first time the two of you met in what became your assigned bedroom of the house. Both times equally as tense, but for radically different reasons. And this time, all of the pieces of furniture were entirely intact. 

Finally, Theo broke the silence.

“What business do you have, entering the field?”

Your nostrils flared.

“What business do you have, almost getting yourself killed?”

A breeze came in through the window, chilling the room further. As if it needed the help. 

“I was handling myself fine,” He said in a low voice. “Injuries are bound to happen-“

“A pelvic fracture and an open head wound are both severe injuries,” You countered in a raised voice. “You may have felt fine in the moment but you wouldn’t have after you lost two liters of blood just from the fractured pelvis alone. You needed care.” 

Theo felt like throwing things as the anger flared heavily in his chest.

“I could’ve apparated back to the manor after-“

“You would’ve splinched yourself with that severe of injuries, Theo,” You snarled, looking exasperated. “Mattheo came and got me.”

Theo made a mental note to kick the absolute shit out of Mattheo the next time he saw him.

“You could’ve said no!” He shouted. “You’re not my bloody on-call healer who gets to risk her life whenever I almost die.” The image of you in the middle of the fight, dodging multiple green casts in your wake, was burned into his retinas. Despite being safe in the Manor now, his chest was still reeling from the panic that flooded his heart and lungs when he fought to get to you.

You took a rushed step forward.

“Don’t fucking do that,” You said in a strained voice. “You don’t get to drag my arse back into your life-“

“You think I wanted this for you?” He shouted, cutting you off. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. I didn’t bring you here. I didn’t ask for this.”

You took another step towards him, more controlled this time. Theo almost took a step backwards to keep the distance.

Almost.

“But you kept me here. Why am I still fucking here, Theo?”

The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to even consider them.

“Because you fucking left me before I was fucking done with you!”

Theo’s chest heaved, as he stared down at you. The room became painfully silent, the only sound being Theo’s breathing. You were holding your breath. 

“What does that mean?”

Theo didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You left me to join the Order. You left me behind and I went bloody maniacal. I didn’t know a person could be touch starved for a specific set of hands, but your fingers burned their prints into my skin and I can’t get them to goddamn heal. And then Mattheo dropped you on my fucking door step and it was like I was an imprisoned man who just felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in years.”

You were frozen, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Theo…” A breathy whisper.

Theo shook his head, feeling a mix of anger and desperation in his head and heart. When he spoke, his voice was more calm this time, taking a low tone. 

“If love were a language then the only one I know how to speak is the one we wrote together. I couldn’t lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

It was unclear who moved first. Maybe Theo. Maybe you. Maybe both. But somehow, the distance between the two of you closed, and Theo’s mouth was crashing against yours.

His left hand was on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head. His fingers weaved through your hair with a firm grip, as if to keep you from pulling away. Your hands were on his cheeks, lightly cradling his head between your palms as your fingertips teased the beginnings of his hairline. 

“I love you,” He said in a silent voice, his lips still pressed against yours in the desperate kiss. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too.” Your words came without a sliver of hesitation.

His tongue parted your lips, as your fingers moved to the back of his head. A groan forced its way up his throat. Your nails against his scalp drove him insane. It always had. Theo knew you knew that well. 

And with that, he pushed you onto the bed. 

~ 

“So…”

Theo closes his eyes at the sound of Mattheo’s voice. His steps are slow as they walk up the pathway of Nott Manor. In an effort to prolong the inevitable, Theo pulls a cigarette from his pocket, setting it between his lips before lighting it with his wand. 

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Theo looks up at the sky as he blows a plume of smoke upwards to join the clouds. He can’t look at Mattheo.

“No,” He finally says. “We don’t.”

Mattheo pulls a smoke of his own out, lighting it before taking a deep inhale. The only sounds in the air are the wind and his exhale.

“What if we just stopped aiding them?” He suggested after a beat too long of silence. “They’re losing. They need the information we’re feeding them. A few weeks without it would have them feeding out of our palms.”

Theo considers this as he plops down on the top step leading onto the porch. The cold from the wood seeps through his trousers.

Not that his body held any warmth to begin with. Not since he walked out of that bar.

“We don’t have a few weeks.”

Another cloud fills the air.

“The Dark Lord wants Malfoy back now.”

Theo’s heart already feels hollow as he thinks about what he is getting ready to do. 

Mattheo paces the cobblestone pathway, running his fingers through his curls as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

“There has to be a way.”

Theo studies his friend. There’s very few people Mattheo holds loyalty to. The Order wasn’t on the list, despite the way they were risking everything to help them. The other Death Eaters didn’t have it. Hell, even his own father only held enough of Mattheo’s loyalty to keep him alive. Not enough for it to matter.

But Mattheo, from the moment they met until this moment in front of Nott Manor, was always fiercely loyal to Theo. And the way he desperately tries to come up with a solution to fix this for Theo pulls at his heart.

Because his loyalty to Theo also extends to you. When Theo told Mattheo that he was planning to betray Voldemort’s army in an effort to end the war and keep you with him, Mattheo wasted no time in joining him. No questions asked.

Mattheo was willing to risk his head to keep you safe if that was what Theo needed. And in this moment, Theo knew he didn’t thank his friend enough. 

His hands shake slightly as he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

“I don’t think there is.”

He doesn’t want to sound as defeated as he does. But as his mind runs a million kilometers a second, it still comes up short on a way of getting out of this. 

Mattheo shakes his head angrily.

“This is bullshit.”

And Theo says nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finishes his cigarette, and plans what he’s going to say once he goes inside. 

~

Oh Merlin, do I really have to leave?

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your sleeping form. Your back was facing him, the blanket low enough to show the bare skin of your upper torso. 

He swallowed hard.

Five minutes. Just another five minutes.

But he knew he wouldn’t stop at five.

He was in his Death Eater robes, dressed to leave. This meeting wasn’t one he could afford to miss, and yet, watching you sleep in his bed was enough to make him at least consider it. 

Reaching over, he traced the lines of your right scapula, moving down to the left, feeling your smooth skin and shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. Your body rose and fell with every breath you took, but you did not stir at his touch. He brushed your hair down to the side so it all fell concurrently onto the sheets. 

Every time he tried to stand, his legs would defy him. 

Bloody hell, this is impossible, he thought to himself.

The temptation to kiss you was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want to wake you, because then you would know he was leaving, and then you’d ask questions. One’s he didn’t yet want to offer up the answers to.

You didn’t know what he was about to do.

The door creaked open, making Theo jump. Mattheo stood at the threshold, also in his robes. His eyes flitted between his friend and you, before they settled on Theo again. All he did was nod, a gesture that Theo returned, before turning and leaving once again.

A sigh forcing its way out of his lungs, Theo stood up from the bed. Before walking out the door, he threw one last fleeting glance your way.

This better fucking work.

Once the door to his bedroom was shut, Theo walked through the manor in a flash, before finding Mattheo standing in the front garden. His friend gave him a look, and it was not lost on Theo the anxiety in his expression.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mattheo’s words hung in the air, swirling around above them with the wind. Theo slowly let his head fall backwards as he stared at the sky. For once in his life, his thoughts weren’t racing. He was confident in this decision. He had never been more confident about anything. 

“I’m sure.”

No more words were said. 

Grabbing Mattheo’s forearm, the two men apparated. When they reappeared, it was in an empty warehouse in Sussex. Windows lined the walls just a meter or so below the ceiling. The walls themselves were painted an off white colour that left them looking dirty, with hand prints and muck dusting the paint. It felt too big, in Theo’s opinion. If this were to become a regular thing, they’d need something smaller. With seats, preferably.

The two got to work, placing wards and disillusionment charms everywhere they could. Before they knew it, a whole hour had passed, and they were just finishing up. 

“You know I hate this right?” Mattheo asked as they regrouped in the center of the giant room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not what we’re doing necessarily but this meeting?”

Theo had to fight the urge to laugh.

“You think I like this any more than you do?”

Mattheo shook his head as he looked around the warehouse, taking in the metal beams that lined the ceiling. 

Theo took the moment of quiet to get his thoughts in order. Ever since he sent that damn letter, he had dreaded this moment. And now it was here, and though he had spent countless hours stewing and preparing, right now, he felt completely naked and defenseless. 

A sensation filled the air. Theo looked over at the same time that Mattheo did. The door creaked open, the sound echoing off the walls and around the air, before Hermione Granger, followed by Ron Weasley, the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, another Weasley they couldn’t place, and the blonde Triwizard Tournament champion from fourth year who Theo, for the life of him, could not remember the name of.

“All Gryffindors, mostly Weasels,” Mattheo mumbled under his breath. “Too much bloody red around here.” 

Theo fought the impulse to laugh.

The crowd of Order members approached them, all looking apprehensive. Granger stepped forward, her eyes jumping between the two of them.

“Nott.” When her eyes bounced back to Mattheo, the disdain became more apparent. When she spoke again, she spat the word out. “Riddle.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as Theo took a step forward, saving them the risk of what would happen if Mattheo were the next to speak.

“Granger.”

He debated on greeting the others, but decided against it. There simply wasn’t time for pleasantries. Besides, Theo didn’t particularly want to be polite to them. And he knew that Mattheo wanted nothing more than to raze the whole warehouse just because he saw that familiar flash of ginger hair one time, let alone several. So it was probably best to get right to the point.

“What’s this about?” The unfamiliar Weasley called out. 

It was hard for Theo not to grow annoyed. The amount of people in the building had him feeling overwhelmed, though he couldn’t exactly blame him. How else should they have responded? It could’ve been a trap, for all they knew. 

The moment Theo reached into his back pocket, a swarm of wands were pointing in his direction. In his periphery, he could see Mattheo’s fists clench. though he was grateful that his friend didn’t immediately start spitting off hexes and Unforgivables. Theo froze more out of politeness than fear, then slowed his movements down. With the same speed as a snail, he pulled out a couple of scrolls, tossing it on the floor halfway between where he stood and where she stood. The wands all moved to point at the scroll in the same way they would point at a bomb. 

“Those are plans for upcoming raids on your safe houses,” Theo explained. “Now you can be better prepared.”

The reaction was comical. At least, to Theo, it was.

Granger stared at the scrolls, her mouth agape. Ron and Ginny kept their wands pointed at it in a way that suggested they were convinced it was anything but a scroll. The twins backed away from it entirely. Dean Thomas stared not at the scroll, but at Mattheo specifically, confusion painting his expression. The unfamiliar Weasley with the scars on his face jumped away when Theo threw the scroll, and had not moved since. And the blonde looked like she wanted to approach it, but was too afraid to let her feet move. 

Granger was the first to speak.

“Why should we trust you?”

A draft filled the room.

“Trust us or don’t,” Mattheo quipped. “You’re losing. You’ve been losing. Pathetically. We’re guaranteeing you a win right now. Whether you decide to take that chance is up to you.”

The silence was deafening as the members of the Order all exchanged looks, looking absolutely flabbergasted by this turn of events. It was clear they were trying to have a conversation through their facial expressions. Every muscle in Theo’s body tensed as he waited for their reaction. 

This has to work, He thought to himself. 

This will work.

“What do you get out of this?”

Granger’s words hung in the hair, and though the question was for the both of them, her eyes were pointedly trained on Mattheo. When the two Death Eaters remained silent, she continued. 

“You’re betraying your families. Your fathers. What could you possibly have to gain, besides maybe a pardon from execution if we win?” She sneers. “And even that isn’t guaranteed.”

Visions of you lying in his bed, only covered by the duvet cover, overtook Theo’s head. He found himself wondering if you’d woken up yet. If you’d eaten. If you’d slept well. If you’d realised he’d left. The lump in his throat felt like a bolder when he swallowed it down. His fingertips burned with the feeling of your bare skin underneath them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo sees Mattheo glance over at him. 

This is, after all, Theo’s doing. So it’s his question to answer. 

“Family isn’t everything,” Theo said in a low tone. “And some people are worth yielding for.”

~

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

It takes Theo a full half hour before he finally finds you in the manor. Here you are, curled up on the couch in the library with one of his robes covering you like a blanket. Your back faces him as your face is nuzzled against the fabric of the back of the couch. 

Deja vu hits him hard.

Instead of waking you, Theo sits on the ottoman beside you and counts the amount of breaths you take. At the moment, he’s up to about sixty since he started. It’s easier on his heart to sit in the silence, only filled with your quiet snores.

It’s easier for his heart to handle than what it knows he has to do. 

But he knows that he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Letting out a deep sigh, Theo reaches over and places his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. 

“Hey,” He says in a low voice in an attempt to not startle you. “It’s me. Wake up.”

Your head springs upward, looking around at the back of the couch before you roll over to face Theo. The way your eyes light up at the sight of him makes his heart ache in a way he’ll never be able to describe. It’s like he misses you before you’ve even left. 

A soft yawn takes over your face for just a brief moment, and is quickly replaced with a tired smile.

“How’d it go?”

Theo bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he can taste blood.

I can’t do this.

I can’t do this.

You have to do this.

“Not great.”

The smile fades from your face. As quickly as your still waking up body allows, you sit up, rolling over to face him entirely. Theo sits up straight as you pause, watching as the wheels turn in your head to process what he had said.

“What happened?” Your voice is so small, and something about it gives Theo the impression that you already know where this conversation is about to go. He sighs heavily. The pain in his upper back makes it feel like he has the entire world on his shoulders.

“They wouldn’t return Malfoy to us,” He explains. In an effort to hide the shake in his voice, he speaks slowly. “They… they had specific conditions for his release.” 

The hush blanketing the room is only pacified by the pounding in Theo’s ears. 

If there is one thing about you that Theo knows deeply, it’s that you can’t keep your emotions off your face. So it’s to his great dismay that he watches your expression shift from confusion, to thoughtful, to realisation.

“They want me, don’t they?”

The words feel like a bullet each, piercing through Theo’s chest and implanting straight into his heart. 

I can’t bloody do this.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the quiet that overtakes the room is less welcome as that one single word hangs over the two of you like a storm cloud threatening a downpour. The way Theo’s mind runs a million kilometers a second makes it so deafening. He can see the conflict on your face as you consider what needs to be done. The downward cast of your sleep stained eyes and the way you curl your lip in thought makes him want to burn the entire Order to the ground so he doesn’t have to even consider losing you.

He sucks in through his nose as the hand on his knee clenches tightly into a fist.

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, matching resolve in your expression, Theo has to swallow down the urge to cry. 

“When?”

His nails dig into his palm.

“Mattheo’s going to take you once you’re ready.”

A frown crosses over your face. 

“You're not going?” 

Theo can’t recall another time in his life where he’s felt as broken as he does now, looking into your sad stricken and confused eyes.

He’s losing you again.

He’s losing you again. 

“I can’t.” He swallows the lump in his throat that makes his words come out choked. “I… I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He lets the rest of his thoughts remain left unsaid. That he would kill them before they could even leave the area with you. That he’d kill every last one of them for taking the only good thing he’d had during this god forsaken war. The entire reason he had broken his loyalties to the Dark Lord in an attempt to put it to an end. 

And now, he has to watch you leave him.

Again.

Anguish and surprise conflict your face, making him take your hand in his and hold it tightly.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” The desperation in his voice is so palpable that you can feel it bleeding onto the skin of your fingertips. Theo’s eyes never leave yours. “I’ll finish this. For you. For us.”

You fill the spaces between his fingers with your own.

You haven’t even left yet, but Theo begins to dread the ghost of your touch that will be left behind once you are. It’s a feeling he knows too intimately.

“What if we lose?” You ask him in a soft whisper. “Or what if one of us doesn’t make it?”

The air leaves Theo’s lungs, evaporating from the heat of your words.

He wants to dig a bunker and hide you in it, keeping you far away from the sins of the war and the pain of ever leaving his side. He wants to blow up the world and watch from space with you on his arm. He wants to do anything, literally anything that would take away the hurt in your eyes. 

Images of the many ways he wishes to kill the Dark Lord and end this devastation flash through his mind.

“I need you to hear me when I say this,” Theo says in a slow tone. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my return to you. Even if that means I have to blow through the gates of hell myself and crawl out of my grave. Make no bloody mistake. I will come back for you.”

[starrspice]

The Paper Stars AU won the poll so here it is!!!

So this is basically a Secret Agent AU

Sun and Moon, two of the top agents in their field are tasked with stopping Y/N, an ex-agent turned international super thief. Sun and Moon are the only people to have captured them (even though they escaped during transport) and the only ones so far to fully figure out their clues and secrets left behind.

Meanwhile Y/N enjoys the challenge of a good heist, even more so with a couple of agents on their heels. They always leave behind a paper star at each heist location as a calling card, and Sun and Moon were the first to realize they leave hints for what their next target is going to be.

Sun is a bit of a tinkerer in this AU, often testing and creating new gadgets for him and Moon to use in the field! He's better at hacking ane coding than he is at inventing and mechanics, but a few of his inventions have proven quite useful

Moon is far better at putting Sun's gadgets to use than Sun is, but he's also known for being resourceful and quick on his feet. He's still got an old injury that was never properly repaired right but that doesn't stop him.

Y/N was once the agency's top operative, specializing in disguise and covert missions. After a huge mission gone awry Y/N took a year off duty before suddenly abandoning the agency and become a world renowned thief. Nobody is quite sure how or why and Y/N refuses to explain.

As much as Y/N adores the two they aren't the type to pull their punches. Often tying the agents up to make a get away or roughing them up in a fist fight. They're the very definition of a wild card. Nobody can ever be sure if they'll slip in and out of a heist through stealth or make a big show out of pulling off a caper, and that uncertainty makes the entire organization jumpy which is just how Y/N likes it

[writerslittlelibrary]

Wasn't she sixteen...?

masterlist

summary: when you are on a mission with your uncle Steve, you accidentally become part of a large, secret Hydra experiment, and suddenly, you return to the compound as a toddler…

pairing: Winterwidow x adopted daughter teen/toddler reader

warnings: none I think

genre: fluff

words: 3333

a/n: I remember reading something with the reader turning into a toddler a long time ago, and the idea always stuck with me. I figured it would be really cute to do it with an adopted reader, because it means that Natasha and Bucky have never taken care of a toddler

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A simple mission. That is what Fury said. A simple data collection. In and out. 

“Simple,” Steve scoffed as her carried a sleeping 2 year old in his arms. As it turns out, the mission was not as simple as Fury had initially stated. The Hydra base was in fact, not empty, and you, were in fact, not ready. 

Fury had assured Natasha and Bucky you would be fine. You had been with the Avengers since you were 11. You had been fighting your entire life before that, and now you were with the Avengers and all you wanted was to follow in the footsteps of your adoptive parents. 

Natasha and Bucky couldn’t be more proud, yet they also couldn’t be more worried. 

You had never been on a mission before. Natasha and Bucky deemed them to dangerous, and you were only 16. They didn’t want you on missions until you were at least a legal adult.

You were upset of course when they told you, but it didn’t take you long before you understood. Missions were dangerous, and despite your upbringing, you were simply not ready yet. 

However, when Fury came to Natasha and Bucky with a file, which contained an easy mission, they decided you were allowed to go.

It would be a quick in and out mission. There wouldn’t be any danger and your uncle Steve would be with you. Everything would be fine, except it wasn’t.

The mission appeared to be more complicated than Fury had originally thought, and the Hydra base seemed to be anything but abandoned. The scouts Fury had sent out prior to the mission had been deceived. It was a trap, for you.

You had Steve had gone inside the base, finding the control room and copying the data.

However, when you were copying the data Steve heard strange noises coming from the hallway. He told you to stay put and finish the data transfer while he went to check.

You did as he said, continuing to transfer all the data from the computer. 

However, once the screen displayed 100 percent, all electricity in the room fell away. The door fell shut, and a red light was all that lit up the room. 

You pulled the usb out of the computer in a haste, trying to see if you could get the door open. You were unsuccessful, and despite your training, you were starting to panic. You could hear grunts and blows landing not far from your location and so you figured Steve was fighting off multiple Hydra agents. 

After you unsuccessfully tried to open the door, you took a step back, taking a deep breath and emptying your mind. You tried to remember what you father told you.

“Don’t dwell on situations gone wrong. Accept the unexpected. Don’t stand around whining. Try to find another way.” 

You could hear your father’s voice in your head, repeating the things he had taught you. Don’t dwell on the situation, you repeated in your head as you turned around, scanning the room to try and find something else that could help you. 

It didn’t take long before you spotted the end of a vent in the ceiling, and after pushing the large computer from the desk, you moved it over to the wall. 

You climbed to stand on top of the desk as you inspected the vent, figuring you could fit through if you managed to get it open. 

The metal was screwed into the wall rather tightly, and the vent wouldn’t budge as you tried your best to pull it open. While focusing on the vent, you failed to notice Steve trying to talk to you through the door.

Once you heard him yell your name, you turned around, jumping off the desk and making your way to the door. 

“It’s a trap! They’re gonna do something to you!” you heard Steve yell as he tried to get the door open. He too failed to open the door, despite his super soldier serum. 

You ran back to the desk, climbing on it once more and trying to open the vent with much more force than before. This was supposed to be an easy mission. You wanted to make your parents proud. You’ll be damned if you get trapped back with Hydra because of it. 

However, after you tried your absolute best to get the vent open, you still failed, and the red lights in the room started to flicker as an alarm could be heard. 

Smoke started to fill the room and you tried to hold your breath for as long as you could.

It didn’t take long before you had to breath again, and as soon as you did you felt the smoke work its was inside, infecting your brain and your senses. You lost your balance and fell off the desk, unable to break your fall as the smoke fogged up your brain, confusion taking over. 

You tried to stand. To get to the door. To get to uncle Steve, but it was worthless. 

You laid on the floor until you lost consciousness. 

After the smoke had taken effect on you, the alarm stopped. The smoke disappeared from the room and the red light returned to normal. The door sprung open and Steve rushed inside. 

However, what he found was not exactly what he was expecting. 

There you were, sitting on the ground with a pile of suit around you. You were no longer sixteen, you were a toddler. You looked to be around two, and because only your body had shrunken, the suit you were once wearing was way to big, and so it piled up around you.

Once you saw your uncle Steve your recognised him immediately, even in this from, and you giggled and smiled as you reached your little arms up. 

Steve picked you up quickly, rushing back to the Quinjet and discarding of your suit, wrapping you in a warm blanket instead. You had a few cuts and bruises on your little body but they didn’t seem to bother you in the slightest as you giggled and laughed while playing with Steve’s beard. 

He sighed as set the coordinates for the Quinjet back to the Avengers tower, contemplating on how the hell he was going to explain this to Natasha and Bucky.

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

Once Bucky and Natasha heard that the Quinjet was landing, they rushed to meet you, wanting to hold you in their arms and assure themselves you were safe. 

However, when Steve walked off the Quinjet, a confused and guilty look on his face while carrying a little child, they could only think the worse. Natasha and Bucky rushed over to Steve, asking what had happened to their child. They needed to know you were safe.

Steve chuckled dryly as he held your tiny form up, and the moment you saw Natasha and Bucky you started smiling, reaching for Natasha, wanting your mama to hold you.

Natasha took you from Steve confused, before she took a good look at the toddlers face and realised that it was indeed, you. 

“Y/n?!” Natasha exclaimed confused. 

“Mommy!” you giggled happily as you buried your face into her shoulder, exhausted from the journey. 

“Wasn’t she sixteen when we sent her with you…?” Bucky asked confused, a dangerous tone hidden underneath his playful one.

“Well, you see, she got hit with some kind of strange gas and now… well… she turned into a toddler…” Steve explained, scratching the back of his head while avoiding to make eye contact.

“What…?” Natasha asked even more confused, rubbing your back gently as you fussed before you settled down again. 

“I don’t know what happened. The Hydra base we were at was not abandoned, but they didn’t try to hurt us. I left her alone for just a minute while I went to fight other Hydra agents off, and when I came back, well…” he finished, motioning to your sleeping form.

“I’m really sorry…” Steve added apologetically as he looked down. 

Bucky took a deep breath before laying his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. 

“We’ll go and see Bruce. Hopefully he can help us reverse it,” Bucky stated. Steve looked up at him confused, before he noticed Natasha’s massive smile while she interacted with your younger self. Maybe this wasn’t all bad. 

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

After speaking with Bruce and Tony, Natasha and Bucky found out that your little form was reversible, but that it would simply take time. They stated that eventually the effects of the gas would wear off, and then you’d be back to your normal, teenager form again. 

Natasha and Bucky thanked them as they made their way to the living room, you still happily in Natasha’s arms. 

Bucky had already started planning an entire mental list of all the things they would have to get for you. I mean, you were two years old and the only thing that adorned your little body was the fuzzy blanket from the Quinjet. 

There weren’t any clothes for you. There wasn’t anything in the Avengers tower for a two year old.

On top of that, Natasha and Bucky had never taken care of a toddler before. You were eleven when the Avengers saved you, and you were eleven when you were adopted by Natasha and Bucky. They didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a young child.

While Bucky rummaged in the kitchen, trying to find something appropriate for you to eat, Natasha sat on the couch with you in her lap, playing peek a boo while you giggled and tried to copy her movements. 

Bucky eventually settled on grabbing you an apple, coming back from the kitchen and handing it to you. 

Natasha gave him an unimpressed look when you took the apple from Bucky’s hand, studying it for a second before holding it back up to Bucky. Bucky looked confused, sending Natasha a glance for help.

“She’s two, James,” Natasha simply stated as Bucky hesitantly took the apple back.

“Daddy cut,” you stated as you pointed at the apple, and Bucky immediately realised how stupid he had been. 

He went back into the kitchen, hearing you giggle as Natasha stated, ‘stupid daddy,’ in a playful tone. Once he returned with the apple, cut this time, he sat beside Natasha, holding the little bowl while you reached for a piece. 

You happily munched on your apple slice while you laid down on Natasha’s chest. 

Perhaps they should lay you down for a nap soon. 

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

Clint had heard about what had happened to you. He had immediately started digging around in the old clothes from Lila and Nathaniel. The clothes they had kept from Lila were all baby clothes, and so he settled on just grabbing some of Nathaniel’s clothes. 

He arrived at the compound quickly, finding you still sitting on the couch, finishing your last apple slice. 

Natasha held you close as she softly rocked you back and forth, a happy and content smile on her face. She loved you more than anything in the world. She loved your shopping trips, your determination when you insisted on certain songs during car rides. Your ability to make Bucky say yes to whatever you asked. But she could not deny how much she had longed to hold you in your younger years.

Holding you, in your two year old form, was everything she had ever wanted. 

You were so small. So fragile. So young. Natasha was more than grateful that she gets to experience you being so small as well. 

Clint smiled at the sight, walking into the living area and sitting on a chair close to Natasha and Bucky. 

“She’s adorable,” he stated as he got a good look at you.

Your little head perked up at the sound of his voice. “Uhncle Clint!” You stated happily, tripping over your words as they came out as a mushed up mess. 

“Hello there tiny,” Clint responded as he smiled at you.

“I got you some of Nathaniel’s old clothes. I couldn’t find anything from Lila’s but I figured this will do for now,” Clint explained to Natasha and Bucky as he handed Bucky the clothes. 

You little arm immediately reached towards the pile of clothes, sitting up straight in Natasha’s lap as you pulled the clothing items out of the perfect pile, wanting to see all of them. Eventually, you reached for a shirt with little planets on it. You held it up to Natasha. 

“On mama,” you stated firmly, to which Natasha laughed while she helped you into the shirt. 

Eventually, you were happily dressed in a miss matching set of pajamas, leaning into Natasha again as your eyes started to fall close. 

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Natasha stated as she stood up, holding you tightly to her chest as she made her way towards hers and Bucky’s bedroom. Bucky followed her as they went into the bedroom, Natasha laying you on the bed. 

“Do two year olds wear diapers…?” Bucky asked, deep in thought while he contemplated putting a diaper on you or not.

Natasha let out a huff of amusement before handing a diaper to Bucky.

“Yes they do,” she stated as she sat down on the bed, making sure you kept laying down as Bucky gave her a confused look.

“Well go on dad, put a diaper on your kid,” Natasha stated playfully, listening to your giggles as Bucky’s face heated up. 

“I don’t know how…” Bucky stated, a little embarrassed. 

“Come on super soldier, I’ll talk you through it. It’s not that hard,” Natasha explained as she motioned for Bucky to get to work. 

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

After Bucky’s diaper adventure you were asleep pretty quickly, all the excitement from the day catching up to you as you slept peacefully on the big bed. Natasha had laid pillows all around you, building some kind of wall to ensure you wouldn’t roll out of the bed while you slept. 

After you were down and content, Natasha had offered to go to the mall to pick out a few necessities for you. Bucky had reluctantly agreed, even though he was terrified to take care of you. You were only a little baby, and he was terrified to hurt you. 

Natasha had assured him that he would do great, and Clint had offered to stay nearby incase Bucky would need anything.

And so, Natasha happily went to the mall, shopping in all the baby stores as she put way to many objects in her basket. She had never had such an experience before. Sure, she occasionally picked up a thing or two for Clint’s kids, but getting to pick out stuff for her own little girl felt entirely different.

She had already received a dozen texts while she was gone, all from Bucky as he slightly panicked with every sound or movement you made. 

Natasha chuckled to herself as she read through the texts, assuring Bucky you were fine and that you were just sleeping like any normal toddler would. 

“Are you looking for anything specific?” 

The question pulled Natasha away from her phone, turning to look at the woman beside her. She had a kind smile on her face as she scanned the objects in Natasha’s basket. 

“Oh, uhm, I’m not sure,” Natasha stated, giving the woman a smile back.

“Your first child?” the woman asked, and Natasha nodded with a bright smile on her face. 

“It was unexpected, to say the least,” she chuckled at her own joke, watching the woman’s face as she smiled kindly. 

“How old is she?” the woman asked, judging by the basket contents that you were a girl.

“Two,” Natasha stated as she picked up another set of pajamas, the pattern a collection of different cartoon drawings of your favourite animal.

“It’s a great age. I loved it when my kids were that age,” the woman told Natasha.

“Children that age often want comfort items. Does she have anything like a stuffed animal, or maybe a special blanket?” the woman suggested, and Natasha thought for a moment before shaking her head. 

“No, I suppose she doesn’t. I should probably pick one up for her,” she stated as she gave the woman another smile, moving to walk over to the stuffed animal section. 

The woman trailed behind her and guided her towards a collection of adorable bears, all dressed in various pajama sets that were sold around the store. 

“You could get one with the same pajamas as your daughter,” the woman explained excitedly, picking up a bear dressed in the same pajamas that Natasha had picked out earlier.

Natasha took the bear, thanking the woman before making her way to check out. 

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

Once Natasha arrived back at the Avengers tower the first thing she noticed was how the common area was a chaos. Clint and Wanda were looking around while Bucky just paced around panicking. 

Natasha walked over to Bucky, a determination to calm her boyfriend down before he would have a mental breakdown.

“Y/n’s gone,” Bucky stated as he say Natasha come into view.

Clint immediately turned around upon hearing Bucky’s words, letting out a chuckle and walking over to Natasha as well. 

“For the record, y/n is not gone, she is simply playing hide and seek,” Clint started, looking around. “And she’s damn good at it…”

Natasha laughed as she set her bags on the couch.

“Y/n? Sweetie, it’s mommy. I have some things for you,” Natasha stated in a sing songy voice, her ears immediately perking up when she heard your excited giggles coming from her right. 

There you were, running as fast as your little legs could take you, straight for Natasha’s lap.

You jumped up on the couch, climbing onto Natasha as you hugged her tightly. 

“Mommy!” you exclaimed happily, giggling as Natasha attacked your face with kisses.

“Was my little princess hiding from daddy?” Natasha asked as you nodded, still giggling as you pointed over to Bucky.

“Daddy not finding me!” you exclaimed, stretching out to give Natasha a kiss on her cheek. 

Bucky sighed with relief as he moved to sit down beside you two, his large hand stroking your back, it almost being as big as your entire back. You giggled and pushed yourself away from Natasha, using her shoulders to push yourself up so you could give Bucky a kiss as well.

“I best at hid and seeking,” you stated proudly, and Bucky chuckled as he nodded, giving you a kiss on your forehead.

“Look what I have for you my little malyshka,” Natasha said as she reached into the bag, pulling the stuffed animal from the bag and handing it over to you.

You smiled brightly, immediately hugging the bear tightly to your chest when you got it into your hands. 

“Matching pajamas…” Bucky stated with amusement as he pulled the pajama set from the bag, holding it up for you and Natasha to see. 

You gasped in excitement as reached over to it.

“On mommy, on,” you stated as you managed to get the pajamas in your hands.

Natasha chuckled and helped you out of Nathaniel’s old clothes, ripping open the packaging of the new pajamas and helping you put them on. 

“I look like bear!” you exclaimed happily as you looked at yourself, holding up your bear for Natasha and Bucky to see.

“Yes you do doll,” Bucky stated as he pulled you into his lap, showering your face with kisses.

Both Natasha and Bucky would never say it out loud, but they hoped you would stay a two year old for a little while longer, loving the new domestic feeling it gave them to raise a little kid. Of course, they loved you and they would be more than happy when you were to turn back into your teenage self, but they couldn’t deny the fact that they wanted to enjoy holding your little form for as long as possible. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey @lorsstar1st

[darklinaforever]

I am convinced that there must be a story between Lilith and Eve, and probably even an identity exchange between the latter at certain times. Why, how, and when, I don't know, but I am convinced that in all cases, there was an exchange !

Here are the official character cards from the hazbin hotel games :

Lilith's seems quite strange. First, the card supposed to represent Lilith does not contain the name Morningstar compared to her daughter and her husband. Of course, this may seem like a simple little detail, but I am convinced that it is not insignificant.

Second, Lilith's haircut and figure (or at least assumed Lilith...), not to mention the smile she displays, are much more similar to the depiction of Eve in the introduction to Hazbin Hotel than to that of Lilith.

And on top of that, a crucial detail, Lilith's face is absent (even though we know it very well, a strange choice), beckoning as if to keep a secret. And once again, she has almost the same smile as Eve in the introduction to Hazbin Hotel and just like Eve, her face is absent. And when else is Lilith's face missing in Hazbin Hotel ? Episode 5, absolutely.

And removing Lilith's face doesn't really make sense, since once again we know it and we even see it in the episode through numerous portraits. Well, it doesn't really make sense, unless it's to point out that something is wrong with her. And once again, the silhouette looks much more like that of Eve than of Lilith.

All this may seem trivial but I am convinced once again that it is not ! To drive the point home, the Hazbin Hotel Twitter account published a photo showing us a little better the two portraits that we were able to see in episode 5 located in Lucifer's office, with a message explicitly saying that the devil is in the details and to look a little closer at the two portraits of the Morningstar family.

And what can we learn from these two paintings concerning Lilith ? She has her eyes open to one, but not to the other (I will also add that we do not see Lilith's eyes in the beach scene, since they are camouflaged by sunglasses). She is very close to her family on one and more withdrawn on the other. She wears her wedding ring on her left hand on one and her left hand is not visible on the other. Another small detail being that Lilith's left hand was also not visible during the flashback of episode 5.

Probably many will think I'm crazy, but I'm convinced that whatever is happening with Lilith, it must have something to do with Eve and that they must have swapped places probably several times for various reasons. Maybe it's not really Lilith we saw at the end of season 1, who knows. But even if it's her, there must be a reason she's here. I doubt that she simply abandoned her husband and daughter overnight to become the real big bad as many theorize. After all, Lilith has literally been with Lucifer since their fall to Hell and lived a family life with him and a visibly happy Charlie from the portraits. So it probably stayed for thousands of years before suddenly mysteriously disappearing for seven years. Also, all this crazy stuff that a lot of people have saying that Lilith is bad because she kept Charlie away from Lucifer… from the portraits it looks like bullshit. Lucifer obviously had his own insecurities regarding his daughter, no point blaming Lilith for that. Especially since, regardless of whether it was Lilith or Eve in the flashback of episode 5, she simply seemed to bring Charlie back to bed damn it ! Don’t hesitate to give me your opinions in comments !

[spooky-fm]

DP x DC fic: Delivery Ghost

This has been consuming my brain for weeks. Based on this post by @gummybearstastelikesadness:

Danny wakes up in the new world and, not feeling responsible for its villains (unlike the ghost attacks where he is the one who turned on the portal) decides to take a break and have a vacation. As a pizza delivery person, he brings orders to the recipients within the specified timeframe, no matter what. Certain citizens of this world are suspicious when the app lets them order to a town 2 hours away from the location ... and the delivery boy is there in under 10 minutes.

If only Danny cared about their feelings.

Part 1.

Waking up sore and confused in the middle of a random field with only vague memories of last night's events wasn't that weird for Danny Fenton. He had been Amity Park's resident hero for several years and had lived through much stranger awakenings. His list started with Vlad Plasmius's spooky basement inside a cloning tube and his parents' lab strapped to the vivisection table, and ended with places like the middle of nowhere in the Ghost Zone after an ecto-storm or a hundered-year-old abandoned maze of secret tunnels under the Masons' house after a particularly exciting date with Sam. Next to those, an ordinary-looking meadow was a welcome change. Despite that, something felt not quite right, but Danny couldn't quite focus on the feeling in his drowsy state.

Careful inspection of his body revealed that he had all of his limbs attached where they should be attached and functioning as normal. Aside from mild discomfort after lying on the cold ground for a significant amount of time he was perfectly healthy, despite splotches of dried ectoplasm and blood indicating recent injuries.

Deciding that he did not care enough to remember what those splotches were from just yet, Danny shrugged and continued his inspection. He looked around the field, trying to find any clues, tracks, or signs of civilization, and, failing to locate any, he transformed into his ghost form.

The transformation was enough of a jolt to wake him up from his morning sleepiness, forcing Danny to remember the fight with an unfamilliar ghost that appeared just as he finished fixing reindeer antlers to the top of the head of his freshly-made one-foot-tall snowman made from the first snow in the season. He had been so concerned with taking the fight away from his new porch guardian that he hadn't taken it seriously enough. Between exchanging blows and trying to find out the name of the intruder into his neighbourhood, he ended up too distracted to notice that they were not alone and got blasted with a dark-purple beam from behind.

As much as he would have liked to know more, the memory tastefully faded to black and refused to provide any further details.

'Never mind the why's and how's then,' - Danny thought, unconcerned. 'Time to consider the where's and the when's.'

Having thought that, he suddenly realised what had been bothering him from the moment he woke up. He was so busy taking stock of his physical state that he forgot to question the gentle warmth of the ground he had slept on and the decidedly non-December greenery around him.

Wide-eyed, Danny quickly flew up, searching for anything that could point him towards Amity or any other nearby town.

The vegetation did not seem too different from what he was used to, so he concluded that he probably wasn't anywhere Southern enough to be this warm in December. That suggested Clockwork shenanigans, which did not fill Danny with too much confidence.

He turned invisible, picked a random direction, and flew at a leisurely speed fully intending to enjoy the idyllic weather.

A couple of hours later, he finally came across a large enough town where he decided he would not be instantly noticed in the morning crowd. He easily found the local library and got permission to use a computer from the librarian that barely glanced at him in the dimly lit lobby. He made his way towards the two ancient computers ready to learn the local date and hopefully figure out how he ended up in this situation.

Danny wasn't truly surprised when the calendar showed a date a couple months in the past according to his personal timeline. He had spent enough time (ha!) with Clockwork to not be put off by a bit of minor time-travel. What surprised him, however, was his inability to find even a single mention of Amity Park on the internet.

Familiar forums, social media account of his friends, Amity news sources, even his personal blog that he posted blurry pictures of blob ghosts to were missing. Maps, both regular and satellite, showed a familiar but slightly different landscape where his home town should have been with a completely different name written over it.

Danny stared at the monitor with unfocused eyes. If he really had travelled in time, he would have been able to find some trace of Amity, or his friends. Searching for their names gave unhelpful results, and trying to look up ghosts and ghost attacks only led him down the rabbit hole of superheroes and something called 'The Justice League' that just gave him a headache. This led to the natural conclusion that instead of a minor instance of short time-travel he got tangled in a major instance of timeline-hopping.

He shuddered a little, remembering Dan. At least it seemed that Danny didn't exist at all in this timeline, in any shape. That turned out to be a slightly disturbing thought and Danny decided to ignore it with the practiced ease of someone who was used to rolling with the punches for the sake of his mental stability.

He wondered briefly when this world and his started to differ, but his limited knowledge of human history was not enough to give him much of a hint. He figured it was at least a couple hundred years in the past, but that was the extent of his detective abilities.

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

It was a relief to finally exit the stuffy library building and let the rays of sunshine fall on his face after several hours of researching the new world he found himself in. Despite failing to get any closer to the mystery of his appearance there, he didn't feel that upset at the change of scenery.

While walking leisurely along the tidy street, Danny contemplated the heroes and villains of this timeline. It seemed that the Justice League was the top dog when it came to the forces of good. He wasn't sure how to approach them without raising suspicion that a person suddenly coming into existence would certainly cause.

Suddenly, he was struck by a thought so alien to him that he stopped in his tracks and stared blankly ahead.

He didn't have to do anything!

There were no ghost attacks in the news, and thus probably no portal to the Ghost Zone. He hadn't opened a doorway between the Infinite Realms and Earth, and there was nobody who needed help that couldn't be given by any of the local heroes.

Danny realised that didn't feel any pressing need to protect this world. That little part of his core that was always anxious about Amity, about Sam and Tucker, and about the rest of the world was now blissfully quiet. Danny smiled at that, shaking his head and continuing his walk towards what seemed to be a small river.

He also began to notice the stares people around were directing at him and tried to get lost in the crowd - with little luck. It almost seemed that having drawn the attention of the locals, he was standing out as an obvious outsider.

He was starting to get annoyed at the constant attention, when he noticed his ragged sleeve and recalled that he was in fact still covered in suspiciously blood-looking greenish blots. He considered the fact that it was actually blood from his already-healed small scratches was irrelevant. 

Cursing quietly, Danny quickly turned into a shady-looking alleyway and made his escape from the public eye by going invisible.

He decided to continue on his course towards the riverside in this way, while mulling over the earlier revelation. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that it was a great idea to take a break and get some rest from ghostly affairs. And if he really wanted to go back, he could always find a way to open a portal into the Ghost Zone and find Clockwork. His sort-of mentor, sort-of father figure wouldn't mind helping him with a little nudge towards the right timeline, would he? Besides, the guy probably knew all about Danny's little jaunt across realities. Since there was no sign of him or his cryptic advice, it was entirely reasonable that he approved of the whole thing.

So it was decided: Danny Fenton was going on vacation.

He flipped in the air in excitement and started flying away from the town. Giggling a little at the fact that he still didn't know the name of the first town he visited in this timeline, he froze in place as something occured to him: He had no money, no possessions and didn't know where to go.

Despite not technically needing food or shelter as a ghost, he didn't want to spend his vacation hiding away under his invisibility. And what sort of vacation would it be if he had no money to spend on fun things like videogames and hot dogs?

He figured the solution was simple: He'll just have to find a job.

[impyssadobsessions]

Excerpts from my WIPS ;3 Guess Which story and when- or if its a story even up. If ya want.

----DPxDC

“Keep communication lines on, we'll be moving towards your location.” Batman had replied, which made Nightwing clicked his teeth. “How much should I bet you're not going to do that?” Dick turned to ask Jason as both of them hopped off the bike. “Do what? I didn't hear anything.” “Okay, so a hundred at least.” Nightwing hummed, as he followed Red-Hood back towards the abandon lab.

----DPxDC

"-One time she sent DASH! To babysit ME! I'm older than both of them now. Y'know how awkward that was? Though the look on Dash's face was hilarious.” Dick smirked, raising a brow. “The guy that bullied you? Why did she ask him?” “Ah, probably because he's a puppy that'll do whatever my sister asks. She knows it too.” Danny clicked his tongue as his face grimaced at the implications of it. “I may or may not have... scared him a few times. I do like a disappearing act.” Dick grinned as he could imagine what Danny meant. He did seem to take any form of “keeping tabs” on him as a challenge. Danny smirked back, a mischievous glint in his eye, before dropping his face. “Jazz was REALLY upset about it. I had assumed this was her being overbearing and protective like usual-I didn't realize how hard this was on her.” The guilt thick in his throat. “She broke down crying and.. I promised her I'll stay out of the house when she's not home. 'Cause I didn't know what to do.. or say. I just..” “Thought of the easiest solution?” “Yeah... I guess.” Danny shrugged, defeated.

---------DPxDC

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shouldn't you be resting, sir?” Alfred scolded. A small amused smirk on his lips as he carried lunch on a tray. Bruce just made a grunt. His eyes glued to the screen of the laptop. Images, news articles, videos. Whatever he could find was displayed on the screen, while he bit at the end of his pencil. A notepad next to him. “Ah yes, very informative answer, Master Bruce.” Alfred set down the tray on the nightstand beside his bed. There was more than just lunch on the tray as it carried a medical kit. Bruce sighed. He shoved the laptop to the side and struggled to sit up more so Alfred could replace his dressing. “This whole situation just crawls under my skin.” “I say it does, sir.” Alfred's hands move quickly to help replace the doctor's handy work. “Secret government organization, children in peril, and the boarder between life and death getting thinner by the day. Certainly sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

---------BULLY

Pete glanced back up at Mr. Smith. The man was eyeing him carefully, waiting for a reply. He must care about Gary in some way to go through this much trouble, right? And... it would be easier to contact Gary's grandfather than dealing with the headmaster. Pete bit his lip as he thought. “Um, Okay. S-sure.” “Atta boy! Hahaha!” Allen laughed as he smacked his hand on Pete's shoulder, making him stumble. Pete really needed to work on not being pushed around so easily. “Though, if you can mange to keep little Garreth in line, I'll add in a little bonus for your trouble. Since you're doing more than half what I was paying this damn school to do.” “That's not-” “Some good advice. Never work for free, Pete. Consider it a token of gratitude. After all, I think we both know watching my grandson isn't an easy task.” Allen winked.

--------DPXDC

Tim had no idea how he was going to pull this off. His eyes glancing from the Fenton parents to the boy he met yesterday, Danny Fenton. He knew he was dead. At least, was ghostly in some way. Danny didn't act or looked how Greta did, but Greta was visible as Deadman wasn't. So perhaps ghosts varied drastically? Either way, Danny being dead wasn't even the part that was bothering him. It was knowing he had to pretend he didn't know- while Danny sat right next to his oblivious killers. Well, the word killer might be too harsh. Tim theorized it was an accident regarding with a portal that opened on top of Danny. Which might also explain Danny's unique qualities.

---------DPxDC

“...Danny has traces of... Lazarus pit... stronger than yours.” Tim answered, with a concerned tone. They were afraid of how Jason would take it. And Jason was not taking it well, as he felt cold rage deep in his veins. The icy chill as he acknowledged that not only was Danny his blood... he shared the worse part of his blood. The reminder that they... Had died. Those scars... that was how Danny died and so far knowing their luck, he doubted it was painless. “Little Wing? Jay bird? You there, I'm almost at your location. How's Danny?” Dick called on the comms. Jason pulled the boy more into his jacket, giving him the best attempt of a hug he could. “Better than the fuckers who did this to him will be.”

------DPXDC

Danny had made an unfortunate discovery. His powers, like all ghosts, were based on emotion. Other's emotions. Even worse, the strongest one was fear. Fear fed on itself and grew stronger and stronger. And what made him discover this, made his heart sink with dread. He was stuck powerless in Gotham as his friends were laughing themselves to death along with other hostages in the room. Danny cursed at himself for listening to Sam. He should have phased them out of there, regardless of Batman's no meta rule. Now the only fear emitting into the room was his own. They were too far from others for him to feed off of, and ectoplasm was low. No.. more like the ectoplasm was being pulled away from the ground of Gotham and seeping into some other being that was far too greedy. “Well, well, well~ Look what we have here? A little party pooper!” A man with green hair and clown painted face cackled, as he waltz his way over to Danny. The black-hair teen ripped his eyes from his friends, glaring at the man. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, while he stayed knelt over his friends. “Funny, most parties I've seen at least has music.” Danny was feeling sweat dripping off his face. He needed to do something fast, but if he couldn't transform.. then he wasn't sure what else he isn't able to do. Not like this man looked fit, but... Danny knew danger when he sees it. “Ah, but this is music! To my ears at least, ehehehehe!”

----------CAMP CAMP

“Ah. Smell that, Gwen?” “Smell what.” “That fresh breeze! We had gone a full twenty-four hours without a single camp activity catching on fire.” “Huh, I guess you're right! This camp only smells half as shitty-” “Where's Max?” Both Gwen and David utter out in realization as it had dawn that neither of them had seen the troublesome trio since breakfast. --- “Don't worry Max! We'll save you once I finish chewing off my leg-” “Nikki! DON'T!” “Well... I'm fucked.”

[esamastation]

Part fifty-five of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four

-

"Good evening and welcome back to Channel Zero News, where we relay you top news from around the Planet on the hour, every hour. I am Jackie Sanine, here with you in Midgar.

"First, let's take a look at what's going on with the war.

"The Wutai War has been ongoing for almost eight years now and has been noticeably winding down in the past year and a half. With only one major holdout of Wutai forces left in Fort Tamblin, it's safe to say that the war is all but won for Shinra and her allies. With Fort Tamblin under ongoing siege by Shinra, it is unlikely that there will be any noticeable movements anytime soon.

"Still, there are new developments in the Shinra front. We take you live with our correspondent Maiser Rav, who's in the front with the latest news from the trenches."

"Thank you, Jackie. I'm here in the town of Sang Fe, which has been occupied by Shinra forces since the fall last year when the town was discovered abandoned by a scouting party of Shinra SOLDIERs. Acting now as a major connection point and the only airfield in the area, Sang Fe has become a major staging location in this final stretch of the war.

"As you can see behind me, the Shinra forces here are well established. With the fall rain season soon upon us, they're more interested in digging rain channels, rather than trenches.

"Here's Corporal Leynri from Shinra Infantry troops, sharing his experiences in the trenches."

"We haven't actually ever used any trenches?"

"Thank you, Corporal Leynri. The camp in Sang Fe is truly a beacon for Shinra Military, boasting high numbers of both infantry and war machinery - never mind the high number of SOLDIERs.

"SOLDIER Second Class, Davidson, has been a regular at Sang Fe for a long time."

"Yeah, I've been here for a few months with the SOLDIER company. It's been fine - the local monsters give us more work than the Wutai troops do, really."

"Have there been any interesting incidents of late?"

"Well, not as such? It's just a lot of hurry up and wait right now. I guess the most interesting thing is that Sephiroth came and went, and no one really knows where he is right now. Somewhere in Wutai, but, yeah, who knows where."

"Thank you, SOLDIER Second Class Davidson. As we all know the movements of SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth are of high interest to us all. Whenever Sephiroth is being deployed in the front, you can expect something big to follow. According to the various soldiers here, Sephiroth arrived a little over a week ago with a couple members of Shinra Investigation Sector of the Public Security Department, or Turks, as they're colloquially known. They were, by all appearances, on a high class secret mission, but no one knows where or what.

"Here's Colonel Havre, the camp commander, commenting on the rumours."

"I can't comment on the rumours."

"Thank you Colonel Havre. Aside from a few mysterious secret missions and the upcoming rain season, the life in Sang Fe is quite normal and calm, with the SOLDIERs and infantry members keeping in shape by using the local gym and taking part in team activities. It's important to keep your skills sharp even during your downtime. 

"Trooper Guy here knows what's the best way to keep in shape."

"Yeah, I practise parade forms sometimes. Our sergeant is really keen on us getting the forms right, you know, to look good on camera. Hey, watch me do this -"

"Thank you, Trooper Guy, for that wonderful display of skill. While we were out collecting these interviews, we got a chance to talk to one of the more recent arrivals - SOLDIER First Class, Angeal Hewley, who arrived at the same time as Sephiroth."

"I arrived with Sephiroth. I'm sorry, I can't comment on his whereabouts or what he's been up to. Yeah, we've encountered Wutai troops, but how it went down is classified. Sephiroth was in high spirits the last I saw him. I don't know what his hair routine is? I'm sorry - I have new mission orders, I have to go. No, I'm sorry, I can't really say whether he could give an interview. I really have to go -"

"Unfortunately Angeal Hewley couldn't prove or disprove the rumours about secret missions. I suppose we will have to stay in suspense for now. I know I will be eagerly waiting for any developments and will be reporting back as soon as there's anything new to be reported.

"This has been Maiser Rav, reporting from Sang Fe camp in Wutai. Back to you, Jackie."

"Thank you, Maiser. It's truly heartening to see that things are going well in Wutai. Do these news about Sephiroth's involvement in the war relate to the latest developments from Shinra Science Department concerning the updates to the SOLDIER program? Here's Gavin Lynch, with a glimpse into the mysterious world of Shinra's science research and development."

"Thank you Jackie. I'm here on the second floor of the Shinra Building, as the science floor has been evacuated due to an escaped specimen, which will no doubt soon be brought back under control. While we wait for contamination procedures to run their course, let's take a look at the history of the SOLDIER program through the eyes of the employees here. 

"Laboratory Technician Berk, a long time contributor to Shinra's most advanced science developments, about how he feels about the impact his work has had on the world."

"Oh god, oh god, please let me quit, I haven't seen my family in two weeks."

"Thank you Laboratory Technician Berk. Professor Hojo, the head of Shinra Science Department, is known for his… high standards and… work ethics. Many in this team are hardened veterans in their field, and have been involved in the SOLDIER program for many years. 

"Nurse Sinclair, what can you tell us about the rumours about new methods being introduced within the SOLDIER program by the Professor?"

"..."

"Nurse Sinclair? Ma'am, what can you tell us about the rumours concerning new procedures for creating SOLDIERs?"

"..."

"Nurse Sinclair?'

"... I need to call my mom. Excuse me…"

"... Thank you Nurse Sinclair! I think judging by that thousand yard stare, things are really happening and we can expect something new and exciting from the Shinra Science Department in the upcoming days! This has been Gavin Lynch reporting from Shinra Building! Back to you in the studio, Jackie."

"Thank you Gavin, for these enlightening insights. We will be looking for further developments in the near future!

"Next up, sports, as we go to the world of chocobo racing where a scandal is brewing - is chocobo inbreeding the secret to the ultimate racing bird? Joining us is..."

-

The only trustworthy news media

[thatsatricky1]

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || ‘𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞’ Chapter III

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Abandoned. After going through hell and back together, she was left there to fend for herself. Y/n felt as though they’d left her in the dust at the facility. A facility that had taken young gifted children raising them in secret. The eight of them had been taken as children and grown up together at the facility and just when it they had the chance of escaping they made one crucial mistake, leaving her behind in the dust. One big mistake they hadn’t forgiven themselves for, and she would make sure they’d never forget it.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, Abandonment, Tension, Trauma, Verbal fighting

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,2k+

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

It was like looking at a ghost from their past. Yet it wasn’t a ghost. Y/n was inside their apartment standing in front of them in the flesh. Her facial features the same besides a slight mature look to it.

Her once long natural coloured hair was now cut and dyded a mossy green. The opposite of what the facility allowed.

She also was no longer stuck wearing the facility uniform they’d all been forced to wear day in and day out. One that had no wrinkles or crinkles, always perfectly fitted to the person wearing it. The outfit she wore was foreign look to them on her since it was the first time they were seeing her in anything besides the uniform.

She wore a green tank top lined in white, an x white strap linking the bottom of it, paired with washed out grey blue ripped baggy jeans with white sneakers. Her midriff exposed something that wouldn't have been tolerated in the facility, but she was no longer there.

“Y/n. You…” Donghyuck being the first to speak yet he was at a loss for words. He’d been thinking of this moment since the day he’d left. The day he’d be able to speak to her again, yet all the words he’d thought over, couldn't, no wouldn’t escape his mouth.

“Nice to know you still remember my name.” Y/n hummed out disinterested, walking further into the living room but keeping her distance from the others who watched her closely, so close, thinking if they looked away she’d disappear.

“Oh by the way, you should really make sure to close your apartment door properly next time. You never know who could walk in.” She taunted lightly watching their reactions.

“You escaped.” Donghyuck finally forced words out of his mouth, a sharp inhale through the nose once her gaze landed slowly onto him. He’d hoped to see those warm inviting eyes once more but was met with a calculated stare instead. As if he was being perceived like a stranger, a danger.

“You mean the facility? Oh yeah, after the whole 31st of October thing I was on heavy lock down, around a year. First in isolation then in ward C. Even with the whole lock down thing I managed to get out after a year.” Y/n revealed her time back in the facility nonchalantly with a shrug, keeping her emotions in check.

“You were put in ward C?” Renjun asked, his face scrunching in worry at even the thought of her being located on that wing of the facility.

Wing C in the facility was the area with the strictest rules, punishments being thrown around for the slightest mistake and did not allow even an inch of freedom.

“That was the least of my worries.” Y/n managed to get out before looking off to the side to keep the memories at bay and away from her mind, trying to keep her body relaxed, composing herself.

“I escaped a year ago, been on the go since.” The boys shifted at her words knowing what that had felt like. It had taken them months of constantly moving to keep the facility off their back before they settled in Seoul.

“How did you-. How did you manage to escape?” Mark asked from where he sat, afraid to move and cause Y/n to retreat. As if dealing with a wounded animal.

“That’s a long winded answer that is none of your concern Mark. What’s with the matching outfits? Is it your guys thing? I mean back in the day we were practically forced to match.” Y/n sharply responded but diverted the conversation in favour of pointing out their accidental matching outfits.

Jisung shifted once again in his seat, swallowing even if his throat felt dry at the thought of the uniforms they’d worn back then. His mind reeling at remembering the feeling of the uniforms material that had hugged his body back then.

“Unintentional, we were in a rush after finding out our place had been broken into.” Mark replied truthfully, not entertaining her obvious jab at them. Knowing fully well the jab could have been a lot more pointed and harsh.

“Ah, I see. Sorry about the whole power box and lock thing. Well I guess the lobby too.” Her apology obviously held no true endearment.

“You did that?” Jaemin asked out, he knew it had been her but it also meant her abilities, the ones that were barely there when they’d left had most likely developed in their time away from her.

“Oh that’s nothing Jaemin, that’s just a sliver of what I’m capable of. Like I said beforehand I was in lock down, meaning I was being put to use every single moment that was deemed necessary.” Y/n answered yet her tone held no true emotion as if not needing them.

It was clear to everyone in the room the girl they’d left in the facility had changed. Developed. Most likely for the need to survive.

“You found us.” Chenle was the one to talk this time. Her gaze moved slowly away from Jaemin to land on him now, a tilt to her lips at his words.

“Of course, I’m surprised you’d choose to hide in plain sight. Somehow genius of you all but also quite stupid. Then again the facility doesn't know how you tick, how you all think.” She replied with her manicured fingers moving to tap at her temple in a motion to show how she’d found them. She’d remembered what they wanted, lusted to have once free.

“All that matters is that you got out, it’s all we wanted.” Donghyuck tried explaining how they all felt only to be met with a laugh from Y/n, who moved a hand to cover her mouth, the other holding her stomach as if she’d just heard the funniest joke come from his lips.

“I’m sorry I don’t think I heard you correctly. It’s all you wanted? If that were the case I would have been out of the facility more than a year.” Y/n glowered at Donghyuck who’s eyes widened at her behaviour.

“What? You expected me to go running into your arms Donghyuck, cry against your shoulder confessing how hard it was without you all? How much I missed you all?” Y/n berated them as she slowly moved forward until she was inches from him staring up at his face, close enough to count his familiar birthmarks. Making sure not to lose her temper like she had back at the lobby.

“I’m not here to rejoice with you about my freedom, I’m not here to rekindle our lost friendship, and I am certainly not here to join you in whatever fruitless effort you’re all making to live normal lives. There is nothing normal about us.” With each sentence she moved her hand closer until she dug her pointer finger against his chest, pressing into it.

Though her words were harsh, the feeling of her touch grounded him, having missed it. Swallowing down her words like it was sand, scratching its way down his throat.

“It was a hard decision to leave you there Y/n, but we couldn’t stay there.” Mark’s voice brought the two out of their stare down as her sharp gaze left Donghyuck in favor of burning through Mark’s.

“You think I wanted to stay there either? You know the fun part, I learned when you all left. The ironic part was that you’d left a minute before I got down to the entrance.” Y/n managed to hold back on snapping at Mark, in favor of revealing just how short their exit had been from her arrival.

Renjun held back a noise, guilt swirling through him at the realisation just how close they’d been to leaving with her. He’d been so focused on his pocket watch that day he hadn’t even thought for a moment to wait just one minute more. His flight had kicked in too fast.

The boys let the information sink in. The sick truth of just how close they’d been to seeing her that day, to leave with her. Mark letting his head drop slightly, hands squeezing shut at the fact he’d decided for the group to leave.

“It’s the past now Y/n, you have a whole new future ahead of you now. Here in Seoul… with us, like before but free.” Donghyuck snatched her attention again, his hand moving to wrap around her wrist gently where her perfectly manicured nail was still pressed against his chest. Warmth seeping through him at finally getting to touch her.

Though it didn’t last long as she tugged her hand away, his grasp slipped because of his gentle hold. Donghyuck holding back a wince at how she’d moved away as if his touch burned.

“Did you not understand my prior words? I’m not interested in rekindling whatever sort of friendship we once had, nor will I be here to play pretend on having some sort of normal life.” Y/n emphasizing her words to get it through Donghyuck’s head, who in turn shook his not wanting that.

“You can’t just drop our friendship Y/n not after all the years we spent together. You have a chance of a normal life now, please just try to understand that.” Donhyuck’s voice on the verge of sounding like a plea.

“Our friendship.” Y/n started to speak as she stepped back into his personal space “Was destroyed the day you left and didn’t look back, didn’t even try to come back for me.”

“I came here not to lead a life beside you all, I came back to get a look at the people I once trusted my life with, the ones who let my life crumble with one action.” Her words burned more than then if she’d used her ability to burn him where he stood, he would have preferred to get a third degree burn than hear her words.

“Please Y/n you have no idea about the regret and guilt we all feel. We know what we did was wrong. We always said it was us eight against the world until the very end, we meant that. Please stay.” Donghyuck begged, his lips quivering, eyes filled with unshed tears.

“If you truly felt guilty you would have come back for me. You didn’t. None of you did. And I naively waited day in and day out for that day to come. But if you really feel guilty I hope it festers in your souls ‘till you take your last breaths.”

“Y/n! Enough.” Mark protested at her choice of cruel words. This was not their Y/n.

Y/n stepped back from Donghyuck not bothering to pay Mark attention, there was a time she would have, she would have listened to him even if it meant diving off a cliff, but those times were long gone.

Donghyuck in a second of panic takes a step forward afraid she’d disappear once again. Y/n’s hand moved to push lightly against his chest, his hand trapping her wrist tighter than last time at her touch, yet she didn’t rip her hand away this time.

“I don’t ever want to see your faces again, my curiosity has been satisfied.” Y/n decided, Jeno standing up from the ground now in silent protest.

“You can’t leave.” Jaemin spoke from beside Jeno, still sat on the ground, eyes determined, entwined with his words.

“Quite hypocritical of you to say, is it not Jaemin? If I remember correctly you had no problem doing such a thing.” She bit back, yet her tone was neutral as if she’d come to terms with it a long time ago.

“Did you go to the beach?” The sudden question came out of nowhere causing Y/n’s composure to falter as she looked over at Jisung who stood up from the couch.

“Yes.” Her voice came out cautiously.

It was her second day of freedom from escaping the facility when she’d arrived at a random beach, something she’d longed for since the day she’d seen a video of one from the facility's old television. She remembered how the cold water felt brushing along her ankles, the smell of salt that later stung against her nose and the way the sand felt between her toes.

“Was it all you’d imagined it to be?” Jisung asked another question slowly walking over.

Y/n’s hard touch against Donghyuck’s chest softened as she thought about the beach, a look of longing crossing her face at the memory. Wishing she could experience the first time she’d gone to the beach again.

“And more.” She responded, her voice dropping to a whisper, a look of melancholy in her eyes.

“What was the best part?” Jisung continued his questioning as he gained pace nearly in front of her.

“Everything.” She breathed out, continuing “The wind pushing through my hair, the smell of salt, the sand that had been under my feet, the way the water flowed around me and the realisation I was no longer stuck.”

“How many times did you go?” Jisung pushed for further information gently, hand slowly rising to lightly brush against her elbow.

“Once.” Wrong question, unlucky for Jisung as it caused her to focus again as she stiffly continued “When you’re on the run you can’t afford to take the time for your wants just your needs.”

“You don’t have to run anymore, stay here, stay with us, with me.” He responded gently, his hand moved to hover over her waist but dared not to touch and intrude her personal space.

“You have no idea. The facility was up in chaos at losing all seven of you, yet with time you’ve become just a side mission to regain. But me? They’ll never stop looking. Escaping was freedom, but I’m never truly going to be free from them.” Her response hurt, it proved that she was still being searched for feverishly.

“We can still try.” Jisung rebutted, determined. Y/n letting a soft amused smile appear that didn’t quite reach her eyes as her free hand lifted to hover over his cheek. Jisung pushed his face against her palm, eyes fluttering shut finally feeling her familiar touch.

“I will try, but not with you all.” She answered bluntly, smiling, falling just like how her hand fell from Jisung’s face, his head tilting at the sudden disappearance of her soft hand.

“I want you all to feel it, what it feels like to have hope coursing through your veins only for it to be ripped out of your grasp and burned.” Her intentions were nothing but brutal yet justified.

Y/n moved her hand away from Donghyuck’s chest, his hand tugging at her wrist but she managed to break his grasp once again. Taking a step back.

“Don’t, Y/n. Don’t leave us.” Chenle who’d kept quiet this whole time spoke up, tears falling freely for anyone to see.

“It’s a little too late for me to leave you all, when your the ones who left me.”

With that she turned away from the seven men, intent on leaving with that but stilled open hearing the next words to come from behind her.

“I won’t let you leave like this.” His words sent an amused smile onto her lips, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“And how would you stop me? Your ability is useless in terms of trying to stop me from leaving, what are you going to do? Heal me?” Her words mocking Renjun who’d been the one to speak.

“Go back to watching your movie Renjun, go back to forgetting my existence that you all so easily were able to do the past two years.” Satisfied with her words she finally moved away from the living room. Renjun wondered how she had known the movie had been his choice, then again she seemed to always know those sorts of things even now.

The seven watched her fingers disappear down the hall, each wanting to follow after her yet it was as if they were glued to their spots, not able to chase after the one person they’d been so desperate to have back in their lives.

It was silent, Donghyuck and Jisung standing side by side while the others were still across the room. Everyone had to process what had just happened.

Jeno stood there, body stiff, muscles tensed as he watched her figure disappear, not being able to get a word out just like the crosswalk, it was happening all over again. Just as the last part of her turned the hallway corner his body snapped into motions running. His shoulder bumped into Jisung on his way, Donghyuck having to catch their younger off-balanced friend.

“Y/n!” Jeno yelled out in distress at losing her again, not knowing if he’d ever have the chance to see her again, to know she was okay, alive.

Rounding the corner still in a sprint only for the front door to click shut right in front of his face. Body slamming into the door messily having not slowed down.

Letting his head lean against the door for a split second, but this time he didn’t give in. He didn’t give up. Grabbing the door handle swinging it open almost violently, his eyes immediately found her figure walking down the apartment hallway.

Y/n leisurely clicked the button for the elevator, humming in satisfaction at the doors opening straight away for her, stepping in and clicking the ground floor without a second thought.

Her body leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator as she watched the metal doors slowly close, just a gap left when two hands grabbed at the gap pushing against its weight. Body tensing as she figured out whose hands it was.

The elevator doors sensor automatically opens the metal doors revealing the person attempting to get in. Jeno.

“You can say you don’t want us, you can give up on us. But we aren’t giving up on you. I will forever regret leaving you that day, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try to make it up to you.” Jeno’s voice is full of determination, set in his ways.

“Either get into the elevator or leave, I have somewhere to be.” Y/n ignored his words, face hiding any emotion from his prying eyes.

Jeno’s jaw clenching at her unforgiving nature she’d developed. He knew he deserved it but he’d be stupid to let her walk away. To loss her a second and final time. Taking a second to breath he let his hands drop from the elevator doors to step inside.

Y/n tilting her head at his actions, watching him. Calculating his motives. He couldn’t help but let his mind wonder back to the days she looked at him with pure trust. Desperate for the day she’d look at him like that again, to see her eyes shine and twinkle.

“Where do you need to go? I’ll drive you there.” Jeno asked moving to stand next to her side by side.

Y/n holding back a laugh at this, moving her head slightly to be able to glance at Jeno who was already staring at her. She raised an eyebrow to show her amusement.

“You got your driver's license, how’s you manage that?” Y/n asked rhetorically not actually wanting to know.

“We went through a lot to get where we are, one of those things was driver's licenses. Though it took a while.” Jeno answered anyway before adding in “Where do you want me to drive you?”

“I don’t want you to drive me anywhere. You already know that.”

“And you know that I want to drive you to wherever you need to go, it’s safer than walking by yourself.” Jeno replied stubbornly.

“Don’t overstep Jeno, I will only warn you once.” Her response hurt but Jeno tried his best to ignore the pain in favour of watching her.

Their conversation had lasted the amount of time needed to get down to the ground floor, the elevator doors opening up at its slow leisure pace but Y/n had enough of a view to see what awaited them outside the elevator, a small tick of a smile on the corner of her lips.

Moving forward without a second though, Jeno having to process her actions seeing as the door hadn’t even fully opened. Y/n once the gap was open enough when through it and manicured gracefully through the small crowd that had formed to get into the elevator.

Jeno’s hand had flown upwards to grab at her, his fingertip brushing gently past her back, too far when she’d squeezed through the doors. Letting out a groan once the elevator doors opened fully, noticing the small crowd wondering what so many people were doing leaving work early on a Friday.

His body pushing forward moving through the crowd as his eyes scanned the apartment complex lobby managing to find Y/n by her green hair. Her head turned to send a smirk his way as she slipped out of the building.

Jeno pushed open the door five seconds later, the door not having closed properly as he’d caught up, hands flying to hold the back of his head as he realised she was nowhere in sight. Looking in all directions, sighing knowing fully well she was most likely watching him hidden away.

“I’ll find you, I’m going to prove to you that we need you, that you need us. Like it was supposed to be two years ago.” Jeno whispered to himself not wanting to draw attention to himself, anyone could be listening in.

Y/n knew it wasn’t a good idea to be in public, her emotions could snap at any moment. Abilities and high emotions never mixed well. It was the quickest way of losing control of her abilities yet her body moved as if on autopilot until she stood in front of a familiar store.

The Atiny Cafe.

Taking a deep breath in through her nose before releasing out her mouth slowly she regained her composure before grabbing the door handle and pushing her way inside, the bell ringing above her head just like the day before. Her gaze going upwards watching the vintage bell sway, distracted.

Yunho who’d been taking his apron off as his shift for the day ended looked up, a large puppy-like smile on his face noticing who’d shown up. Scrambling to tie his apron back around his waist.

“What are you doing? Weren’t you just telling me how glad you are that your shift is over?” San asked from where he leaned against the barista counter, the cherry red head wondering what had gotten into his friends head.

“What no I didn’t, go back in the break room and tie your apron properly, I’ll take one more customer.” Yuhno dismissed his friend and collegues words with a wave of his hand. Moving to check his hair in the window’s reflection before standing in front of the order counter.

San raised an eyebrow at his actions before looking over at the new customer who’d walked in before letting out a noise of realisation. He’d found out about the girl that had captured their second giant of their group's interest from Wooyoung.

“Oh the green haired chick is here that’s why.” He voiced out his thoughts causing him to earn a warning glare from his giant friends, causing San to hold his arms up in mock surrender before moving to go to the staff room.

“Hey Yuhno.” Her sudden sentence caused Yunho to nearly jump out of his skin, whipping his head around to face her having been distracted by San.

“You’re back! Uh, welcome back. What can I get you?” Yuhno’s smile turned soft, a warm and cozy atmosphere enveloping the two young adults.

“The same as yesterday but instead of the muffin, surprise me with something else.” Y/n replied relieved to finally get to think of something else today that didn’t include a certain seven guys.

“Sure, You can pay the same as yesterday.” Yunho replied as he started pressing her order into the system, taking her cash but before he could ask if she wanted the change back this time her manicured nail was already tapping on the tip jar.

“Right, I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.” Yunho explained like last time, having to hold back a fond look at her actions.

“Mm, does it include a chat again or is that an extra charge?” Y/n playfully asked, nails tapping against the counter absentmindedly.

“That’s free of charge, I’m feeling generous today.” Yuhno jokingly responded, finding it easy to be comfortable in her presence.

Y/n not replying this time instead she nodded, smile glued to her lips having not needed to force it this time as she turned to go to the booth she’d deemed to be her spot when visiting for the time being.

It hadn’t taken long for Yunho to go over to her table, placing her order down in front of her and slipping into the opposite side of the booth. Watching her take a sip of her drink first, finding it to be just as satisfying as the last time he’d watch her try his drinks.

“Can I know your name this time?” Yunho asked not even realising how bold his question had been until it had already slipped past his lips, ears reddening slightly.

Y/n sending him an amused smile past the rim of her cup. Setting it down she pondered over it allowing time to pass just to make him scrum a tiny bit.

“What’s your favourite type of bird?” Her out of place question caused Yunho to blink back at her.

“Pardon?”

“Your favourite bird. What is it?” She questioned again, her eyes shining, having fun.

“Doves, doves are my favourite type of bird.”

“What a surprising answer. You know doves stand for peace, love, new beginnings, fidelity, luck, prosperity and… freedom. It also is the bird that represents Aphrodite in Greek mythology or well in Roman mythology it’s Venus. There’s a lot more to them but I won’t ramble.” Y/n explained the meaning humans had put behind doves.

Yuhno listened, almost enamored by her words, her knowledge of the bird. Glad he’d chosen that one.

“How about this? You can call me dove, for now.” Y/n offered as she grabbed a cookie off her plate breaking it in half.

“Okay.” Yuhno nodded not minding the fact she had yet to give her name, the nickname was just as welcoming compared to not having anything to address her. But also because he couldn’t help but think the nickname suited her.

“Great, so Yuhno tell me how your shift went, maybe also why you are still working?” She asked while holding her hand out to give him one half of the cookie in her hand.

“Of course you noticed that.”

“I notice quite a lot of things, it’s just in my nature.”

Yunho moved to accept her offer, taking the piece of cookie while going into a terribly explained excuse of why he’d decided to work longer not wanting her to know it was because of her to begin with.

Y/n took her time walking back to her currently temporary residence. She’d decided to go to a hotel for once as she wasn’t going to be around for long. Hotels were more expensive and more likely to be looked into in their search for her. Usually she’d rent out a room somewhere for a while instead, but this time since it was a shorter time period than usual she’d decided against renting out a room.

Taking light steps towards the hotel she wasn’t as paranoid as she’d been attentive on her way there, not seeing anything suspicious in that time frame. Y/n made her way past the automatic doors into the lobby ignoring the plain and dull music they played over and over again.

Deciding to head straight to her room, taking the stairs instead of the elevator not wanting to be reminded of her latest conversation with a certain pink haired man. Getting to the fifth floor in no time and grabbing her key card from her jean pocket.

Getting inside, only letting her body relax properly when the door clicked shut, leaning against the door. She stared off into space in a daze replying the events that happened today.

It hadn’t gone like she wanted it to, she wasn’t exactly sure what she had wanted and would continue not to know. There had been so many things she’d wanted to say to each of them and all of them together but she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as them longer.

Y/n had to make peace with what she’d gotten in that little meeting they had instead, not wanting to do it ever again. Sliding down the door to give her legs a rest she wrapped her hands around herself as if to protect herself from the world, a habit she’d developed to make herself think she was safe.

With a groan, her head flew back gently knocking against the wooden door now very aware of the fact in her haste to leave the boys she’d forgotten her hoodie. Y/n had taken it off when she’d waited for them at their apartment having felt stuffy with it on. That hoodie was a good one too, oversized for fashion but mainly she’d bought it for comfort.

“I’ll get a new one some other time.” She muttered to herself, there was no point in crying about the hoodie she wouldn’t get back any time soon or ever.

Her eyes traveled over her hotel room, even though she had room service and cleaners the do not disturb sign was always placed on her door handle outside preferring to grab the food from outside the door and clean up after herself, untrusting of people being where she’d sleep. Making her bed was something burned into her mind since she was a child, it would feel wrong letting someone else do it anyway.

Her eyes stopped at the desk where a plastic bag sat, her lips twitched knowing what was inside it. She’d bought it after all. It was hair dye. A habit she’d developed as a way to continue moving by unnoticed, unfamiliar to those around her.

She’d already had the plastic bag sitting on the desk for two days now, having wanted to change her hair colour two weeks ago, not having gotten around to it. But this would be a welcoming distraction.

Later when the sky was dimming she stood in front of the desk hands untying the knot of the bag to pull out the dye. Scowling down at the colour choice now. A lot of bleach as she prior wanted to go for white, now her thoughts flew to a particular person who currently had said hair colour.

Shutting her eyes knowing fully well it would be a waste of time popping down to the convenient store at this time of night. She’d just go through with dying her hair white and lather on a different colour on top later on when there was time.

Not noticing the frost travel over her window as she walked past towards the bathroom to get started on doing her hair, knowing now was the time to do so as she would not be graced with sleep. All the while thinking of the seven people she didn’t want in her mind.

Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @bubusebu @hanniehq @bunnychui @molensworld @morkiee

(If you want to be tagged in my Nct Dream writing comment, inbox or message me)

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget likes, reblogs and comments are always encouraged and help keep writers like myself motivated to continue our stories.

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

⤻ Click here.

𝐊𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

⤻ Click here.

[whumpninja]

W.M.D., Part 1: Living Weapon

Featuring: living weapon whumpee, heavy and literal dehumanization, lab whump, blindfolded whumpee, creepy whumper, brainwashing, memory loss

Taglist: @whumperofworlds

The meeting had been scheduled for 1:00. Mr. Abel showed up at 1:48, drinking something neon pink in a plastic cup and smiling apologetically. “Just chalk me up as ‘fashionably late’,” he quipped, extending his hand for a shake. “Nolan Abel, but you probably knew that, I’m everywhere. You’re Algernon Fowler, right? The scientist?”

Dr. Fowler stared witheringly at Mr. Abel’s extended hand, waiting for the man to realize that the empty right sleeve of Dr. Fowler’s lab coat was pinned up and out of the way. It took an embarrassingly long time for Mr. Abel to withdraw his hand, and even then, Dr. Fowler wasn’t sure whether he noticed or just wanted to end the awkward stare down.

“Is this your lab?” Mr. Abel asked, looking up at the top of the abandoned clock tower. “It’s…nice.”

“It is adequate,” Dr. Fowler replied. The billionaire nearly jumped at the low, whispery sound of his voice, and Dr. Fowler held back a twisted smile. “If I decide to enter into a partnership with you, I will require a more…updated facility.”

“Sure, Doc, no problem. I’ve got one all set up that nobody’s used in awhile. But I was told that I would be getting a…preview?”

Dr. Fowler nodded to the open door of his clock tower-turned-laboratory. “Just through there.”

Mr. Abel finished his drink as he entered, carelsssly tossing the plastic cup aside. It clattered on the pavement. Ignorant buffoon, Dr. Fowler thought, and followed him inside, shutting- and locking- the heavy door behind them.

“Got yourself a fixer-upper, huh?” Mr. Abel glanced around the first floor. “What a mess.”

“The natural consequences of my work. Science is not always clean.” Where Mr. Abel saw old, yellowing papers littering the floor and broken furniture pushed up against the grimy walls, Dr. Fowler saw nothing but promise and potential in the empty space. He’d thrown the papers out because he had advanced beyond their contents. He’d shoved the furniture away because he needed room to work. Even the location was important- in the middle of the most downtrodden, poverty-stricken part of the city. The building itself had been carefully chosen- a modern laboratory would have been inaccessible and drawn too much attention. The clock tower was perfect for his needs. Whatever mess the foolish Mr. Abel saw, Dr. Fowler could overlook in favor of the results that would come out of it.

“So where’s your brilliant masterpiece?” Mr. Abel asked. Dr. Fowler didn’t appreciate his teasing tone. “You said you had something special to show me.”

“I do. Upstairs.” Dr. Fowler led the way up the twisting metal staircase to the next floor of the clock tower- there were five in all. He rarely used the first floor. The second and third were his workspaces, as was the underground floor Mr. Abel did not- and would not- know about. The fifth floor was empty save for the ancient clock.

It was the fourth floor where his masterpiece lived. And it was the fourth floor where he led Mr. Abel.

“So you make weapons,” Mr. Abel said as they ascended. “Living weapons. You brainwash ‘em or something?”

Dr. Fowler scoffed. “Do not insult me. My work is no mere brainwashing or hypnotism. You may as well buy a robot if you merely want something to be commanded.” He shook his head. “The beauty of my work is in its balance. Too much, and you are left with a husk. Too little, and the result is unpredictable. There are many others in the business of making weapons. They all fall short. Their creations are mindless drones, suitable only for simple tasks.”

“And yours are different?”

Dr. Fowler smirked. “The secret of weapon making is not in the mind, but in the will. Unlike those imposters, I leave my subjects’ mind intact. What I remove is their free will. Once I am finished, they can still think for themselves. They can reason, find solutions to problems- they do not stand stupidly waiting for someone to command them. And yet they still obey commands, without question.”

“If it works like you say it does, I’ll definitely want some,” Mr. Abel answered.

“That is only the first step in my process. They must be trained as well. And there is another variable that must be accounted for.”

“What’s that?”

“Humanity. I have learned that the best way to create my weapons is to strip them of their humanity. If you’ve looked into my background, as I’m sure you have, you’ll know that I was a genetic biologist. One can make a man believe that he is less than a person. I take it one step further. I take the lie and make it true.”

They had reached the fourth floor. Dr. Fowler came out into the middle of the room first, waiting for Mr. Abel to catch up.

This floor was bare, nearly completely empty. The only things in the room were the scientist, the investor, and a figure that knelt in the center of the room, their head covered by a hood.

“You asked for proof, Mr. Abel. Here is my proof. My first successful masterpiece. Project Magnum Opus.” Dr. Fowler crossed the room and removed the hood. “Or, as I prefer to call him…Kestrel.”

Mr. Abel’s mouth dropped open as the kneeling form stood.

Dr. Fowler knew what he was seeing. A young man, or what had once been one, dark-haired and pale-skinned, hair tumbling down the neck and over the forehead to conceal the face in shadow. Bare-chested, showing a burn scar on the shoulder and smaller scars scattered over the torso. Slender, but with lean muscle corded through the lines of the body, a body made to be quick, agile and strong.

“He’s impressive. But, if I can ask, why do you call him Kestrel?” Mr. Abel asked.

A smile tugged the corner of Dr. Fowler’s lips. This man was even more oblivious than he had thought- even though the primary reason for that name was still concealed, there were still clues visible if one looked. Mr. Abel seemed to be a man who had to be shown.

Well, let me not disappoint him.

He stepped behind his weapon and unbuckled the harness around the shoulders, allowing Mr. Abel to see the evidence of the other side of his process. The billionaire actually staggered back in shock. “Are- are those real?” he breathed.

The massive black wings slowly unfurled to their full span. Dr. Fowler did not try to hide his smile now. “Of course they are. The talons are real as well.”

Mr. Abel had somehow not noticed that the weapon was barefoot, displaying the vicious curved talons that were so useful in combat, or that the hands too had talons rather than nails. If it weren’t for the blindfold over the face, he would have also seen the piercing golden eyes. The wings and talons were enough, however, and he clung to the staircase railing like he would fall out of pure shock if he didn’t hold on to something.

“You may touch him if you like,” Dr. Fowler offered magnanimously. “He will not attack.”

Mr. Abel looked distinctly nervous and Dr. Fowler reveled in it. “Are- are you sure?”

“He will not attack,” Dr. Fowler repeated. “That is, not unless I tell him to.”

Mr. Abel approached cautiously, stretching out his hand like a small child about to pet a large dog. Kestrel watched him impassively, blinking once or twice. Mr. Abel stroked the edge of the wing, his mouth stretching into a grin. “Wow,” he said. “It feels real. How’d you do it?”

Dr. Fowler smiled, and leaned close to Kestrel’s ear, and whispered, “Corpus et sanguinis. Strike.”

Mr. Abel didn’t hear the exact words, but he certainly saw the effects. Kestrel went rigid for a split second before leaping into motion, knocking Mr. Abel to the floor, the head tilting to the side as the predator found the prey even without the use of sight. The wings were useless in this confined space, but spread out anyway, helping to terrify Mr. Abel even more thoroughly. The man was screaming, horror twisting his face as a sharp talon tore a gash in his sleeve.

“Hold, Kestrel,” Dr. Fowler said. Kestrel froze, still keeping the man pinned to the floor. Dr. Fowler waited a few more moments, savoring the look of fear on Mr. Abel’s face, before he commanded, “Release him.”

Kestrel let go and stepped back, and Mr. Abel staggered to his feet, white-faced. Mr. Abel glanced from one to the other, shaking, panting, his eyes wide. He pointed a trembling finger at Dr. Fowler. “I could sue you for that, Fowler. I could sue you for all you’re worth and have your- your- thing shot.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Dr. Fowler answered. “Not without admitting that you were ever here in the first place, which, Mr. Abel, you cannot do without coming under scrutiny so intense that all your filthy little secrets will be dragged out into the light right beside me. You would lose everything, and you are not the kind of man who would risk that.” The corner of his lips turned up. “Besides, you said you wanted a preview. That is what you were given.”

The anger stayed a moment longer, fury darkening Mr. Abel’s eyes. Dr. Fowler waited, unconcerned.

Finally, Mr. Abel pulled himself to his feet, laughing sheepishly. “I guess I did want a sneak peek, didn’t I?” The anger bled out of him, replaced by intrigue. “Wow. I mean, that’s impressive. I want a dozen of them. You told anyone else about this?”

“No.”

“Don’t. I want you to be my private supplier.”

Dr. Fowler smiled. “What does a rich man need with living weapons?”

“You stick with your business and I’ll stick with mine.” Mr. Abel ran his hands through his hair, his face transitioning into an easy grin. “So how does he work? You said something to him before he jumped me.”

“When I begin the mental reprogramming process, I implement cue words,” Dr. Fowler explained, careful not to give too much away. “In the absence of anything else, the brain latches onto anything it is given. In this case, the trigger words. Once the process is complete, those specific words will place the weapon under the control of whoever speaks them.”

“And his words are…”

“Not for you.” Dr. Fowler folded his arms. “I will make you your own weapons. Kestrel is mine.”

Mr. Abel shrugged. “Sure.”

The man seemed to have gotten over his fear, approaching Kestrel- although, Dr. Fowler noticed, he did not touch the weapon this time. “So what are his limits?” he asked. “I mean, he’s the prototype of mine, right? What can he do?”

“Anything you command.”

“Could I order him to fetch me a vodka with lime?”

“Kestrel is not some sort of personal butler,” Dr. Fowler said, his smile disappearing. “Kestrel is a weapon, perfectly designed for that purpose and that purpose alone. Not a toy for a rich man’s amusement.”

“Could you make one that is?”

Dr. Fowler sighed. “If that is what you would like, I can do it. I suppose you want it to be beautiful, barely clothed, and enamored with you, as well?”

The billionaire grinned. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Self-obsessed fool.

“Do you always make them…animal hybrids?”

“Yes. It tends to be more stable when I do that, and as I said before it helps the reprogramming process. I have tried many kinds, on many candidates. Kestrel has the DNA of a species of vulture.”

“That where the wings came from?” Mr. Abel walked around to look at the weapon’s back, where the wings protruded from the shoulder blades.

“The wings were originally from a California condor,” Dr. Fowler answered. “I grafted them into Kestrel. DNA can do many things, but it cannot give something wings. The talons and the eyes, yes. The wings required help.”

“Huh.” Mr. Abel looked sufficiently impressed. As much as he disliked the billionaire, Dr. Fowler had still hoped to take his breath away with his demonstration, and it seemed as though he had been successful. “So how many of these weapons can you make for me?”

“How much time do you have?” Dr. Fowler asked instead of answering directly.

Mr. Abel frowned. “Why does time matter?”

“Do you think it is an easy thing to create one of my masterpieces? That I can snap my fingers or hold up a swaying pendant and they’ll be ready to do whatever I command? The human will is the most stubborn force on this planet, Mr. Abel. To break it into splinters and scrape it out, to fill the empty mold back up with your desires, to make sure the vessel does not shatter under the pressure- it takes time.”

“How much time?”

“Months.”

“What?”

Dr. Fowler continued as if he hadn’t heard. “And of course, I must have the perfect candidate. I have tried this method again and again. All attempts ended in disaster. Some subjects did not survive the initial operation. Some lasted longer, but the strain of being reprogrammed was too much for them, and they died or became comatose. Some survived reprogramming, but as empty shells that could not move without being commanded, that had to be told to even breathe. It took years, Mr. Abel, years of failure, before I finally succeeded with Kestrel. But I think you’ll agree that the results are worth the effort.”

“Where do you get candidates?”

Dr. Fowler shrugged. “Kestrel is an excellent hunter. I sometimes have him bring them to me, but that tends to draw too much attention. I prefer more subtle methods. Money is a splendid lure. People who have no other option will gladly submit themselves to scientific study for the mere promise of cash in their hand. Though, of course, they stop having a use for money long before I would have to pay them.”

“You’re really committed to this, Doc.”

Dr. Fowler pinned the man with a look. “This is my life’s work, Mr. Abel. I am as devoted to it as a mother to her child. No force on this earth could sway me from this path. No amount of begging or bribery, threats or tears, no amount of opposition can stop me once I begin my work. It is not an easy road to walk, but I walk it, and it does not matter what obstacles are placed in my way. I have set out to create the perfect living weapons. That is what I will do, no matter how many tries takes. No matter how many bodies I have to bury. I will suceed.” Abruptly the smile returned to his face. “I have succeeded, with Kestrel. Though of course there are always improvements that can be made.”

“So how do I do this, when I get mine? What happens if he disobeys?”

“My weapons cannot disobey.”

“Okay, what about when he does something I want?”

“What do you mean?”

Mr. Abel shrugged. “If I tell him to do something and he does it. Do I click a button, or give him a reward or something?”

Dr. Fowler smiled humorlessly. “Yes, he gets a reward.” He trailed his gloved fingers down the side of Kestrel’s face, ghosting over the blindfold. He was always careful to avoid touching Kestrel with his bare hands- skin-to-skin contact could have an adverse affect on the training.

“What kind of reward?” Mr. Abel wanted to know.

“He gets to live.” Dr. Fowler moved his hand lower, wrapping it around Kestrel’s throat. He didn’t squeeze. He didn’t have to. Kestrel knew he could. That was enough.

“I do not tolerate disobedience, Mr. Abel. If one of my creations fails me, I destroy it, and start again with a new base. There is never a shortage of test subjects in this city.”

It was, at least partially, a bluff. Dr. Fowler did not get attached to his creations, but Kestrel was his first true success. It would take a failure of great magnitude for him to start over. There were other ways to discipline a weapon.

Mr. Abel was grinning. “So far, Doc, I’m seeing no drawbacks.”

Dr. Fowler replaced the hood over Kestrel’s head, gesturing Mr. Abel towards the staircase. This time he let the billionaire go first, all the way back down to the ground floor. “What do you think?” he asked.

Mr. Abel hummed, stroking his chin. “I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful partnership. I’ll have one of my lawyers write up a contract-“ at Dr. Fowler’s warning glance, he held up a hand. “And I’ll leave out any details to keep your secrecy. You can add those in yourself.”

“That is appreciated.”

“But I want one more thing in exchange, Doc. I like what I’ve seen so far, I do. And I love the idea of having my own personal weapon who will do anything I tell it to.” He folded his arms, and suddenly the foolish billionaire seemed slightly less so. “Your Kestrel. I want to see him fly. Tomorrow morning.”

“You- what?” Dr. Fowler was not often taken aback. But this request sent him reeling a little. “Kestrel isn’t used to flight. I don’t send him out often, and then always under cover of darkness.”

“Exactly. I want to see the reaction to him, if there is one. If the government has a conniption fit and comes down on you, I don’t want to be involved.” He spoke bluntly, without shading the truth. Dr. Fowler grudgingly appreciated that. “And I want to see those wings in action. You can send him out early enough that there won’t be many people on the beach. But I want to see what he does when he’s away from you. No offense, but I’m betting he takes off.”

Dr. Fowler pressed his lips into a thin smile. There were still some things this man didn’t know. “All right, Mr. Abel. I will take you up on that bet. Tomorrow morning, I will send Kestrel out. And we’ll see what happens then.”

Mr. Abel returned his smile. “We will, won’t we?”

They shook hands on it.

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 2: Make Yourself at Home

Word Count: 11703

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Chapter Summary: "Ever since she was welcomed into the Eliatrope palace, Amalia has taken to wandering around the halls, even when left to her own devices. Tensions run high as not all members of the Council of Six have come to truly trust their unexpected guest, nor do they believe her intentions to be pure. And so, it is up to Yugo to find out the truth.

But, just what is the actual cause for the Divine Doll's little excursions around the palace? Could this just be a huge misunderstanding?"

Despite the limited amount of time Amalia spent there, she was sure Sadida’s realm in Inglorium had to be the reason behind the divine dimension’s idyllic nature. A lush paradise where all kinds of plants lived together in perfect harmony, no matter how different they were. Tropical jungles and rainforests showed off the vibrant green of their leaves and palm trees thanks to the constant rains they enjoyed. Grassy plains extended as far as the eye could see, with all sorts of flowers and herbs sprouting over the most beautiful canvas imaginable. 

Mighty oaks, firs, pines and all sorts of trees stood proudly on top of the lands’ mountainous territories. There was even a small, but not any less important, arctic area where rare, exotic plants that could only survive in cold temperatures thrived. Wherever she looked, she could see sources of water everywhere: from the constant rains showering the tropical species, to streams and rivers of all sizes and lengths going down the mountains and plains, to beautiful cascades located in their own secret gardens…

It was simply far too beautiful for words. It was nature in its purest form.

And Amalia could feel how each and every single living being there was a part of her, just like she was a part of them. 

It was such a stark contrast to life inside the Eliatrope palace. She understood her visit was sudden, so much so, it was a complete surprise for the portal-making people. They really hadn’t seen her arrival coming. Which was something her father had warned her about, how it might take her some time to endear herself to the Eliatrope King and his people. 

As expected of a god, her father had been right. Yugo, as he wished to be called if they were to be ‘friends’, had certainly been taken aback by the sight of her when they first met. And it only worsened once she took on her more human form. So much so, the Eliatrope remained quiet and motionless for an awkwardly long amount of time upon the sight of her. 

She truly feared she made a terrible first impression and that was the reason why he didn’t seem so keen on taking her as his bride. Amalia had yet to make sense of the weird wave of sadness and melancholy she felt whenever she thought about it—was that what people called ‘disappointment’? However, despite their unconventional first meeting and Yugo’s apparent disinterest in that thing called marriage, he didn’t seem to be opposed to the idea of the two of them fostering a positive relationship. So, even though she had been ready to abandon his home and return with her father, the Eliatropes seemingly welcomed her in and guided her to her new room.

That had been two weeks ago, and Amalia couldn’t help the melancholic, suffocating feeling that enveloped her. 

It wasn’t as if Yugo hadn’t kept good on his word. He was perfectly kind and cordial towards her; always asking how her day had been, indulging her curiosity a little about his, showing her around the palace, and gifting her with some very nice living spaces that were relatively close to his. 

She had yet to decipher what the odd comments his sister Nora made at that meant, or why they elicited a deep blush from Yugo, too. 

And yet, despite knowing she should be grateful and thank Sadida for the kindness and care she was being treated with despite being an outsider, Amalia couldn’t help but feel trapped. She had yet to be allowed to leave the palace premises and venture into Oma Island, especially if she was on her own. Without Yugo by her side, she really didn’t have anywhere to go. So she remained in her room.

That in itself shouldn’t have been so bad. After all, before being sent to the World of Twelve, she spent most of her time in Inglorium either at Sadida’s hut as he put the final touches on her or in her room. But there was something about this place that made her feel restless. No matter what she did, she couldn’t ignore the constant calls of the world outside, beckoning her to step out of the palace and inside the jungle.

There was a whole other world beyond the castle’s walls, she could feel it in her bones. A world the twelve gods themselves had helped create and replenished with wondrous splendour and experiences. Her whole body just itched and tingled at the thought of going out and exploring. 

But alas, that was but a pipe dream. The Eliatropes and their dragon siblings kept a close eye on her, probably because she had been sent by the gods and, therefore, they felt the need to treat her with care. And seeing as she was specifically there for Yugo, as long as he wasn’t available, there were many things she couldn’t do, so she remained confined to her room. 

She truly didn’t understand why that didn’t feel like enough, after all, her room was spacious and beautifully furnished. Her bed was comfortable and soft. Her closet was big and could hold many pieces of clothing. There was a large vanity with a mirror surrounded by bulbshrooms where she could preen herself all day long if she so wished. And her walls were tastefully decorated with more breath-taking murals depicting the Eliatropes’ history. 

But the more she spent inside those four walls, the more she yearned to get away from them. No matter how much she tossed and turned at night, she just couldn’t fall asleep. As of right now, she really didn’t have more outfits than the one she currently wore she could stash in her closet. The more she looked at herself in the mirror, the more Ibago’s words haunted her and made her feel inadequate, her eyes tracing the lack of stitches on her skin and making her feel like an outsider among her own kind. And, beautiful as they were, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the room’s stone walls were closing in on her the most she remained inside with nothing to do. 

Her one saving grace was the large balcony leading outside. Amalia wasn’t exaggerating when she said she spent most of her time there, leaning against the railing and staring off into the distance, wishing she had a Cra’s gifted sight to see what lay beyond the limits of her chambers. The most she could do was connect with the plants surrounding the castle to feel what they felt, but that only increased her yearning. 

The other thing she discovered her balcony allowed her to do and one she felt quite mesmerised by was seeing Yugo train. Just like she was doing at that very moment, her eyes followed his every move.

She truly didn’t understand why, but the sight of him gracefully jumping in and out of his portals reminded her of the time she witnessed her father dance at moonlight. It was so hypnotic, especially when he took things up a notch and combined his portals with his swordsmanship and hand-to-hand training. Hard as she tried, Amalia found she could not take her eyes off the Eliatrope when he executed complex moves and manoeuvres. Parring an imaginary enemy’s attack with his wakfu shield while he charged forwards with his sword. Or the way he would command dozens of portals to shoot energy beams at once towards a specific target. 

The spectacle was such, her eyes remained glued to it, to him. Even with her limited understanding of the world around her, Amalia understood Yugo was attractive. Very attractive. In a way, it was funny. Her father told her Yugo was her suitor, and as such, it was his intention to make her fall for him. And yet, she couldn’t help but think she was Yugo’s suitor instead. After all, she seemed far more captivated by him than he was by her…

Shaking her head from such thoughts, she got a hold of herself  just in time for Yugo to take notice of her and send her a friendly wave, which she returned with a small smile. Amalia couldn’t help but find it sad that such a small exchange had become the highlight of her day, for that usually meant Yugo was beginning to lose focus on his training, which at the same time meant he would be done for the day soon. 

And sure enough, not even five minutes later, he entered yet another one of his portals, only this time he didn’t reappear from another; at least, not within the doll’s line of sight. 

With a heavy sigh, Amalia’s body slagged forward, her head resting against her arms on the railing, wondering if today would be one of those days where Yugo showed her around the castle some more and entertained her for a bit or, if otherwise, she’d be on her own. If it was the latter, seeing as that was her home now as well, she could always wander the palace halls on her own, trying to sate her curiosity and wanderlust the only way that was available.

However, even after enough time had passed for Amalia to know she wouldn’t be seeing more of Yugo today and therefore she was free to explore the palace grounds, the Divine Doll couldn’t shake the feeling the rest of the Eliatrope Council had their eyes on her…

......................................................................................................................

“She spends a lot of time wandering around by herself. I don’t like it.” Efrim emitted a low, warning growl, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“She is allowed to move freely around the palace, Efrim. She is our guest, not our prisoner.” Shinonomé countered, her golden eyes never leaving the orb right in front of her. 

“An uninvited guest, you mean.” Glip corrected pointedly, his chin resting over the handle of his cane as he held it with his hands. “The gods just sent her to us with no warning after months of silence. For all we know, she could be here to spy on us!”

“My point exactly. Thank you, Glip.” Efrim acknowledged his brother with a grateful nod of his head, right before sending his eldest sister a pointed look. 

The female dragon simply exhaled from her nose, puffs of smoke coming out of her nostrils even in her humanoid form. “From our research, Qilby and I have learned that Divine Dolls are difficult to classify and, therefore, to predict. They don’t share the same limitations as other demigods; for all we know, she could be acting independently from the gods’ will.”

Much to her shock and chagrin, this time it was her own twin who refuted her point with a rueful shake of his head. “My dear Shinonomé, you know the dolls’ unique circumstances also mean they’re closer to their creator than most other demigods—in fact, while Divine Dolls get to live in Inglorium alongside Sadida, most demigods have never even met their divine parents!” 

“Which I’m afraid could also mean she will always have his best interests in mind, rather than her own, or ours.” Chibi pointed out without looking up from the small contraption he and his dragon brother Grougaloragran were currently working on, a small wakfu hammer and chisel in his hands. 

“So you mean to say she’s always looking around in search of weaknesses to exploit?” Yugo urged his siblings to voice the thoughts and questions on their minds, growing impatient. He could not believe he had just got back only to be informed his presence was required for an urgent meeting with the Council.

They were all currently gathered at the council room, where the Eliatropes’ leaders met up to discuss urgent matters concerning their people, such as new buildings in need of construction, shortage of food, impending war, or anything that might put their people’s safety in jeopardy. Likewise, seeing as they all had very different duties and talents they used to serve their subjects, another and much more recurrent reason for gathering together was to update their siblings on their advances and struggles in their respective fields. 

The council room was one of the largest spaces inside the palace, second only to the throne room and the communal spaces meant to house large groups of people or protect their civilians when under attack. And with good reason, too. After all, it was supposed to be able to hold both six Primordial Eliatropes and their dragon siblings, even when the latter weren’t in their more humanoid forms. Meaning, it was imperative twelve people, half of them capable of turning into giant, draconic beasts, could be there comfortably. 

Although there were large windows carved onto the stone precisely for the purpose of them being able to join a meeting whenever, the room’s biggest source of light came from the very centre of it, sticking from a round table around which every council member usually sat at. Bathing everything around it in soothing blue, was a giant crystal orb known as the Eliaculus, one of Chibi and Grougal’s greatest inventions. While at first glance it reflected a sea of stars—an impressive feat in itself—, its main purpose was to keep an eye on their territory and help them strategise. All you needed to do to know what was going on on the opposite end of Oma Island was ask the Eliaculus and it would reveal the events unfolding at that very second. 

Another useful feature was that it also projected holographic images to better visualise whatever concerns troubled the Council.

From where he stood in the middle of the room, Yugo’s gaze swept across the council room, landing momentarily on each and every one of its occupants. At that very moment, the only absent members were Baltazar and Phaeris—the former was covering up for his twin in teaching the young ones as the meeting was taking place, for they would have an important exam soon and they couldn’t afford to lose any study time; and it was the latter’s turn to oversee the island and make sure the Twelvians didn’t try attacking them again.

Having just recently arrived, Efrim was seated leisurely against one of the window frames, his long, serpentine tail swaying back and forth in impatience. As Nora’s twin was the smallest of the Eliatrope dragons, he, unlike his siblings, chose to spend most of his time with his true appearance. His body was composed entirely of vivid periwinkle scales, from maw to tail; the only exceptions were his snow-white hair, matching his twin sister’s; his indigo eyelids; and the equally white underbelly and tip of his tail. His eyes were the most unusual out of all of them: instead of white, his sclera was a deep cobalt, and his slitted pupil a bright turquoise, not unlike the wakfu their people manipulated. Nora liked to say that reflected his special connection to their mother. 

Efrim stood out among the other dragons for not having any legs, only arms and a long, snake-like tail, although it was true his natural shapeshifting abilities allowed him to sprout a pair of thin yet strong limbs if he so wished. Even though he preferred to keep them tucked away for most of the time, the youngest dragon also possessed the most beautiful pair of wings out of all of them, thanks to their crystalline quality. 

Much like Nora, the battle with the Mechasms had turned the once joyful and optimistic Efrim into a jaded version of himself, quick to suspect outsiders if it meant ensuring his people’s safety. And, unfortunately, Amalia was an outsider for several reasons. 

Shinonomé, on the other hand, was Qilby’s twin sister, though listening to her retellings of their past lives was much more enjoyable as she never really acted nowhere as insufferable as her brother. Truth be told, even though both of them were technically the oldest of their group, Shinonomé was clearly the most rational one between her and Qilby which, coupled with her sweet demeanour, was the reason their siblings tended to go to her when they needed help. She was seated close to her brother at that very moment, in fact, her eyes going back and forth between Yugo and the Eliaculus.

Given her enormous size and her and Qilby’s natural talent for medicine, the red dragoness was the polar opposite of Efrim, choosing to remain in her humanoid form most of the time as to not frighten her youngest patients. 

Even so, she was far too proud of her origins to suppress her true nature. Such was reflected in her humanoid self. Much like her scales, her skin was ruby red from head-to-toe, with gold markings lining her body along her limbs, sides, and cheeks. Her waist-length hair that she kept in a loose braid—not unlike what her twin did with his beard— was platinum blond and scruffy, highlighted by the four long horns sprouting from her head, with a yellow diamond plastered on her forehead. Beyond her unusual skin colour and horned appearance, there were more details hinting at her true self, like her clawed hands, sharp teeth, and pointy ears; or her eyes—breath-taking and golden, with slitted pupils. Given she had no real use for modesty, she simply covered herself with a simple, sleeveless, yellow silk robe, with no need for shoes for her skin was thick enough to withstand practically anything. 

Glip, leaning back against his own chair at the table, opposite from the eldest twins, was the shortest Eliatrope by far. Always had been. Even when Yugo himself was still in the adolescent phase of his life and his body was that of a child despite his adult mind, back then he was still slightly taller than Glip. A fact he was wise not to say aloud lest he risked getting whacked in the head by his brother’s huge cane. 

Despite not possessing Qilby and Shononomé’s gift for remembering every single reincarnation, or the fact that he was quite ill-tempered, Glip’s passion had always been teaching the younger generations, which he always accomplished admirably thanks to the sheer amount of energy he put into each and every lesson he taught. The fact that, between the two, Baltazar was the most sweet-tempered also helped, as both siblings formed the perfect Firm Hand and Gentle Touch duo—Glip made sure the kids all stayed in line and behaved, while Baltazar was always there to listen to their problems, however small they might be, and encourage them to keep working. 

With a square face and an ever-present scowl, alongside his dark chesnut-coloured goatee, Glip always wore a green and beige tunic over a long-sleeved white undershirt and dark brown pants and pointed slippers. His tunic was tucked around the waist by a leather belt, ancient scrolls he used to keep track of his classes hanging from it. The use of headwear was a huge symbol in Eliatrope culture, and in Glip’s case, he wore a relatively simple hat the same colour as his tunic, though his had a small stump on either side of it. The one thing the shortest Eliatrope was never without was his cane, twice his height and forming a spiral at the top, decorated by three white protrusions. 

Chibi and Grougaloragran were hardly seen apart, and today was no exception as they occupied their respective seats at the table, hunched over their latest invention. In fact, the duo were the most formidable inventors their people had ever known. Although their ingenuity also meant they tended to be quite laser-focused and single-minded when it came to their goals. 

Chibi was the Eliatrope twin, and although he was usually much calmer and more laid-back than Grougal, he tended to be a tad more impulsive as well, especially when it came to battle. Much like his dragon brother, he preferred to wear black, as evidenced by his long cloak, covering his entire body. However, he still felt a fondness for gold that he exhibited in his chest plates and shoulder pads, a body-suit similar to Yugo’s but in black going all the way down from his abdomen. 

His white hair was trimmed into a bob cut and, much like his own goatee, created a nice contrast with his deeply tanned skin and hazel eyes. Despite his love for science, he was the most muscular Eliatrope sibling, and his features—a Roman nose, a strong jawline, an aloof yet cheeky glint in his eyes—only hinted at his hidden depths even more. When he wasn’t covering half his face with his hood, that is. 

Grougaloragran was his brother’s opposite in many ways. While more feisty and quick to anger than Chibi, he also knew when to keep a cool head better than his twin did when faced with aggression. Unlike Chibi, who preferred to keep going until the end, Grougal knew when to take a step back and make a strategic retreat.

Their contrast manifested in their appearance as well, especially when the black dragon decided to take on a humanoid form. As equally muscular and tanned as his brother, given his body was covered in scales, he felt no need to cover himself beyond a white robe, though his wasn’t form-fitting like Shinonomé’s. But that was where their similarities ended. Grougaloragran’s features were sharper, fiercer, befitting a dragon of his power. His cheekbones were sharp, his ears pointy, his golden eyes had slitted pupils and glowed even in the darkness, and he sported a long, silky, dark mane. 

Yugo and his siblings formed a very colourful group. They all had their strengths and weaknesses, and they all complemented each other by seamlessly working together, like a well-oiled machine. Except when they disagreed on something.

And they were all looking at him, their attention drawn by his comment. 

“It’s… a possibility.” Efrim finally said carefully, acknowledging the king’s previous comment about the Sadida Doll looking for weaknesses to exploit. 

“We can’t deny her mere presence on our island is quite suspicious.” Glip added, sharing a nod with the youngest dragon. Then, gesturing at Yugo, he went on, “Don’t forget, dear brother, two weeks ago you weren’t exactly happy with the news of her arrival either.”

Much to his chagrin, Glip had a point. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been fuming when he found out about the gods sending him a bride. Especially when what he needed was for his people to achieve a peaceful coexistence with this world’s natives, not some eye-candy to take his mind off his problems. 

Still, he tried to remain impartial. Even though it was true Amalia’s actions were suspicious, as king it was his duty to give people the benefit of the doubt until proven guilty.

“That’s true, but Amalia said she was sent here by the gods as a sign of good will between their people and ours. We can’t just accuse her of being an undercover agent!”

“One thing is what someone says, and a very different thing is the truth.” Efrim warned ominously, his eyes narrowed. Then, he fluttered open his crystal-like wings and, with one mighty flap, came to meet Yugo face-to-face. “We know nothing about her, for all we know, she could have been trained precisely to get us to lower our guards!” 

“Maybe, but what we do know is that she was both created and sent to us by the gods.” Adamaï countered, making sure to stress that last word so it got through Efrim’s skull as he pushed him back and away from his twin’s personal space. “If we want to be accepted by the Twelvians, the last thing we need is to offend their gods by mistreating one of their own. And considering Amalia is here precisely because of Yugo, he is the one who should be the most careful.”

Yugo flashed his brother a thankful smile at his unyielding support, who returned it with a nod. 

“Exactly, we can’t afford to act rashly and accuse Lady Amalia without tangible proof.” Shinonomé concluded, turning around in her seat to watch the interaction, and even Qilby nodded along to his sister’s assessment, though he was mostly just watching the show. 

“Why are you taking her side?!” Efrim demanded, his eyes flicking back and forth between his siblings in betrayal. Then, he zeroed in on Yugo, jabbing a claw at him. “What, a few days together and you’re already so blinded by lust you fail to see reason?”

A loud gasp echoed around the room, aghast expressions taking hold of their occupants faces. Even Glip and Nora were looking back and forth between their brothers worriedly. In fact, the only ones who didn’t react much were Qilby—who limited himself to rolling his eyes at the unnecessary melodrama—, and Chibi, his eyes fixated on his work. At least Grougal had more tact and actually looked up in alarm at the exchange.

“Efrim, that is quite enough!” Adamaï growled in warning, taking a step closer to his younger brother. He would have got right in his maw if it weren’t for Yugo stopping him by placing his hand on his chest.  

His face hardening into a scowl, his brown eyes narrowed in on his brother, the Eliatrope King tried to keep his voice cool and even as he said, “This has nothing to do with lust. There’s nothing going on between Amalia and I.”

“Oh, so now we’re supposed to believe you aren’t the tiniest bit attracted to her?” The dragon taunted, tilting his head to the side mockingly. Then, he scoffed, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “Please, we all know your brain stopped working the moment she changed forms; Nora had a blast retelling that to us.” 

From the other side of the room, watching the tense exchange with unease, Nora couldn’t help but wince, cursing her mischievous and teasing nature. Luckily for her, everyone’s eyes were on her twin instead.

It was hard to tell if it was on purpose or if he’d meant to mutter to himself, but it didn’t matter, they all heard him loud and clear when he said, “Obviously, your brain has yet to reboot itself…”

In the blink of an eye, Yugo and Adamaï adopted offensive positions, ready to charge, while  Efrim had dropped on his tail, waiting for when his brothers decided to pounce. However, just as it seemed a confrontation was imminent, a clear, authoritative voice cut through the tension: 

“That’s enough, you three!”

Everyone turned towards the origin of the voice. Leaning against the wall, her arms folded over her chest, stood a tall, elegant woman whose sharp, intelligent brown eyes were settled on her siblings. Her features were soft, the only indication of her silver hair being the two strands falling from her Eliatrope hat and delicately framing her face; unlike her siblings’, her hat pointed upwards and was tied in the middle with a piece of robe. She wore a long, sleeveless turquoise dress and armlets—all the same colour as her hat—, another rope tied around her waist as a belt. 

Normally, Mina was the most level-headed and collected member of the Council. But right now, her eyes were blazing furiously. 

She focused on Efrim, her hands on her hips as she adopted a reprimanding posture. “Efrim, enough of this! That is no way to speak to your brother, let alone your king!” 

“But he—!”

“I don’t want to hear it!” She cut him off, raising one hand as if to empathise her point. Her ears perking up at the sound of the other two’s muffled laughter, she swirled on them at lightning speed, causing them to yelp in surprise. “And that goes for you two as well. This is a place meant for debating and reaching compromise; what would our people think if they caught wind of infighting between their leaders?!”

“Tell that to Mr. Accusations over there.” Adamaï jerked a thumb Efrim’s way, who scowled. 

“I simply don’t understand why Yugo’s so quick to defend someone we barely know even when she’s exhibiting suspicious behaviour.”

Yugo was about to open his mouth, a counter on his lips, when Mina beat him to it. “Because Lady Amalia is not here right now to defend herself. It’s not right to accuse someone of something as serious as spying with malicious intent when they’re not even here to explain themselves.” As she said that, she also sent a glare Glip’s way for encouraging Efrim’s behaviour, the shortest Eliatrope shrinking even further in his seat under the heat of her gaze. 

 “Thank you, Mina.” Yugo sent his sister a nod, silently thanking her for intervening when she did as well. Thanks to their gifted wisdom, she and Phaeris were excellent conflict mediators; they always knew how to de-escalate an argument and resolve a dispute the fairest way possible. Be it among their subjects, or their siblings. He turned his focus back on Nora’s twin. “Efrim, I understand your concerns, but we can’t just brand Amalia as a traitor, not when there’s so much on the line. Do you see that now?”

But the furious flickering of Efrim’s tail and the low growl he emitted were signs of his agitated state. To him, it was plain to see they intended to let the doll’s actions go without a proper investigation, and that was a risk he knew they couldn't take, for it might lead to them losing everything. After all, they left the Mechasms to their own devices for millenia, convinced their bond would always remain symbiotic. And yet, next thing they knew, they had inexplicably lost their home at the hands of the very species they once trusted as their own.

Who was to say the Divine Doll, having been sent by the gods the very people that despised them worshipped, would not lead them to a similar outcome? It had only been two weeks since she arrived, that hardly counted as enough time for someone to prove themselves as trustworthy. 

How could his siblings not see that? Did the Mechasm War really mean so little to them? Hadn’t they all experienced the same horrors? Then why were they so willing to put their people’s safety in jeopardy like that? Why—?

A warm, comforting hand he was intimately familiar with made contact with his skin, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Eyes widening slightly, he turned his head to look back at Nora, his twin sister flashing him a small smile to remind him she would always be there. As always, her presence worked like a charm, allowing his shoulders to lose their tension and his mind to think a bit more clearly. 

Now that he wasn’t so overcome by anger and grief, he chanced a look around the room, and noticed everyone’s uneasy eyes on him. Realising what he might have done if he had lost control, the young dragon forced himself to take one deep breath and let it out slowly, the fog in his mind finally clearing.

“I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what came over me. I-I just…”

This time, he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, Yugo was smiling kindly at him, Adamaï mirroring his expression, although his position remained slightly more guarded.

“It’s alright, Efrim. We’re all just tired from having to fight for the right to exist. It’s not your fault.”

He let out a mirthless chuckle. “Yes, I suppose you’re right, my King.”

“I think your bride’s presence has left us all a little rattled, Yugo.” Chibi commented idly, finally putting his latest invention down. “I propose we take a few minutes to decompress before tackling the subject again.”

“She’s not his bride, remember?” Nora recalled, some levity returning to her voice as she chuckled impishly.  “They’re just ‘friends’.” She made sure to air-quote exaggeratedly. 

She let out a loud yelp when Yugo shoved her not-so-playfully in retaliation, almost knocking her to the ground. After a beat, laughter filled the room, some of it more reserved than the rest, but the Eliatrope family finally began to relax despite the tense meeting they found themselves in. 

Still, Efrim’s words echoed in Yugo’s head. A part of the Eliatrope King had a hard time believing Amalia could be gathering intel on them per the gods’ request. And it wasn’t because he was attracted to her—because he wasn’t! Acknowledging an objectively attractive person was attractive was not lust, just mere facts. But because, despite their limited time together, her childlike wonder for the world around her and slight awkwardness when dealing with him made it plain to see the Divine Doll didn’t have much experience with the outside world. 

Or, at least, she didn’t know much about the Eliatropes. Which made sense, given they hadn’t even been on the same planet until less than a year ago.

Maybe she was just curious and wanted to learn more.

However, she was also quite reserved and courteous. Even when he took notice of the way her eyes glimmered in fascination at some of the things he showed her, she never asked anything about them unless he talked about them first. Which could be her way of throwing them off her trail. If she didn’t appear overly interested and eager to know more, then they would have no reason to believe she was spying on them and trying to learn their weaknesses. She could just be playing dumb.

Just as Yugo was beginning to question the Sadida Doll’s true intentions, Adamaï’s words made him realise how unfair he was being. 

“I understand your concern, Efrim.” He began, sliding up to the younger dragon and snaking his tail around his shoulders for comfort. “It's too soon to claim we know everything about our guest. But if it makes you feel better, when she arrived and we showed her around a little, I took the chance to read her wakfu.”

“You read her wakfu!?” Shinonomé exclaimed in surprise, her eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling. “But, Adamaï, didn’t you learn from that botched meeting with this world’s rulers? That is something extremely invasive here!”

“I know, I know.” The white-and-blue dragon raised his palms up placatingly. “However, I figured it was justified given an outsider would be living with us from now on.”

At his words, the red dragoness paused, seemingly reflecting over what he said, before she finally calmed down with a nod of assent. 

His sister placated, he continued, turning his focus back on Efrim. “What I saw was a clean aura. While it might be too soon to lower our guards completely, at least we can trust we’ll be able to tell if there are any changes.”

“I… suppose that’s fair.” Efrim acknowledged, his claw holding his head pensively. 

“Nevertheless, I could try getting to the bottom of this and figure out why she wanders through the palace alone.” Yugo said, his tone light, but the meaning behind it was serious. 

“But Yugo, what about offending the gods? Won’t accusing Amalia of having ulterior motives for being here cause trouble for us?” Nora asked, her brow furrowed in concern. 

The king just rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying we lock her up in the dungeon and refuse to give her food or water until she fesses up; I’m just going to ask her nicely but directly for an explanation.”

“Uh… Not to be rude, but what makes you think she'll just up and tell you just because you ask nicely?” Glip arched an eyebrow, staring at his brother like he’d grown a second head. 

Blinking in confusion, Yugo could only shrug helplessly, as if the answer was obvious enough. “Um, because I’m clearly the one she’s closest to around here? If she’s gonna be comfortable opening up to someone, that someone is me.”

Silence fell over the council room, the Council looking back at their king and blinking slowly at his thought process. And then, after a beat…

“Yeah. Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you two?” Qilby asked, his tone dripping with ill-veiled amusement. His smirk only grew at the blush colouring his king’s cheeks. 

Oh, who knew having a Sadida Doll around would be this fun!

“There’s not!” Yugo squealed, before realising how his voice sounded and clearing his throat. Purposely making his voice sound deeper, he insisted, “Seeing as she is here because of me, I’m the one who’s been spending the most time with her, meaning she’s bound to feel more comfortable talking to me than any of you.”

“I don’t know.” Nora commented idly. She came to lean against a column, looking disinterestedly at her nails, although the amused smirk on her lips didn’t help hide her true feelings. “I was there when she introduced herself. And she’s just my type; I’m sure I could get her comfortable real quick…”

“Nora, down.” Mina said flatly. With an almost bored flick of her hand, she conjured up a portal directly connected to the sea, causing some of the water to be sprayed straight into her younger sister’s face. 

Nora hissed in displeasure. 

“Thank you, Mina.” With that taken care of, Yugo turned his focus back on the conversation at hand. “The point is, she’s here because of me, so I should be the one talking to her about her daily walks around these walls…” After a beat, he couldn’t help but wonder aloud. “It is a bit odd how often she’s out of her room even when I’m not taking her anywhere…”

“Maybe that’s the problem?” Mina suggested. 

“What do you mean?” Adamaï asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

“Maybe she’s out and about so much precisely because she doesn’t like her room.”

“Oh, no. That’s impossible.” Chibi waved the mere notion off at the same time as Grougal vehemently shook his head. “Girlie got one of the best rooms in the entire palace; she’s got nothing to complain about!”

“Grougaloragran’s interior design is flawless.” The black dragon leaned back in his chair stubbornly. His mere body language was challenging everyone gathered to try and contradict him. 

The thing about genius inventors and master builders was their ego. And when you had literal lifetimes to perfect your creations and master new disciplines like Chibi and Grougal did, your ego was the size of Amakna. 

“Well, whatever it is, I’ll get to the bottom of it. I promise.” Yugo said quickly, not really in the mood to listen to another long-winded spiel about the intricacies of architecture and interior design, or how long it took them to realise the perfect shade to paint their walls in was eggshell white instead of cream white because cream white was too dark for the overall look they were going for. 

“Yes, it’ll be for the best.” Finally leaving her place beside the wall, Mina made her way to her seat, ready to get this meeting rolling and to present her and Phaeris’ latest findings to their siblings at last. As she did so, however, she couldn’t help but mutter, “For all we know, she’s just as much of an adventurer as you two and just wishes to explore a little.”

Yugo and Adamaï exchanged glances at their sister’s comment… and immediately afterwards had to stifle down their laughter. No one was as much of an adventurer as they were. Their wanderlust was insatiable. Part of the reason they were so eager to reach an understanding with the Twelvians—besides their subjects’ safety, of course—was so they could finally go see this whole new world without fear of causing a commotion. 

“If she turns out to be as much of an adventurer as Yugo and Adamaï, she’d better not clutter Grougaloragran’s beautiful room with her knick-knacks. Grougaloragran did not spend thirty-six hours painting those walls only for a pile of souvenirs to hide them from view.” 

......................................................................................................................

Amalia found herself exploring every nook and cranny of the palace yet again. Even though the Council’s residence would technically be her home for who knew how long, meaning she believed she had a right to know where she lived, a part of her couldn’t help but feel like she was doing something wrong. Especially when she encountered some of the council members besides Yugo. 

She shuddered subconsciously when her mind traced back to a few days ago, where after turning a corner she’d come face to face with Nora and the Eliatrope dragon she introduced as her brother, Efrim. While Nora had remained as polite as when they first met—though the meaning of some of her comments flew right over her head—, her twin was a completely different story. 

His loaded gaze was fixated on the Sadida Doll the entire time. It was so intense, Amalia couldn’t help but feel scrutinised, curling over herself for comfort. She vaguely remembered gulping involuntarily in his presence. For some reason she couldn’t explain, the doll had a feeling Efrim didn’t like her much. 

Fearing she might get the same reaction from the other Primordial Eliatropes and their dragon siblings—the little one, Glip, if her memory didn’t fail her, didn’t seem very nice—, Amalia tried not to get too greedy. In other words, whenever she ventured around the palace walls on her own, she made the conscious effort to always discover new rooms one place at a time, and to never remain away from her room for long periods of time. 

Her first little adventure had been a simple walk from her chambers to the throne room. Deep down she was mostly just making sure she’d be able to remember where her room was even without help. She was just retracing her steps, really.

The next logical step was to include the dining room to her slowly-increasing list. Most of the time her food was actually delivered to her room by some servants, be it breakfast, lunch, or dinner. But sometimes, her time together with Yugo would either start or culminate in the two of them sharing a meal as they made civil conversation. Thinking back, she had yet to have dinner with the entire Council of Six at once. Although Yugo said that was mostly because they were all so busy and had such different schedules, their dining together was a rare occurrence these days. 

Then she considered it best to know where all the delicious food she got to enjoy each and every day came from, so she made her way around until finding the kitchen. Just her luck, she stumbled upon it just as the chef and kitchen staff were getting ready to begin making lunch. 

To say they all had been mutually startled by their presence would be an understatement. 

Even so, as soon as everyone’s heartbeat was once again under control, they all shared brief interactions as they introduced themselves. Amalia learned many things that day, but the one that stood out the most to her was the fact that she didn’t see herself cooking any time soon. 

She had been understandably amazed by the way Chef Telif and his staff transformed raw ingredients into culinary delicacies; it was almost magical. But something about the process—the patience it required, all the cutting, slicing, and chopping involved, how dirty one could get—just didn’t sit right with her, for some reason. 

Today, her usual exploring had led her to the palace school. While she didn’t dare open the door, as she vaguely recognised Glip’s voice and she didn’t want another encounter like the one with Efrim, Amalia couldn’t bring herself to stop listening to his lesson from behind the door. 

She couldn’t quite catch everything he said, but the few things she did understand were incredibly fascinating. The more Glip spoke, the more Baltazar added or put things into context, the more Amalia wanted to know. In the end, she stayed glued to the door for the entirety of the lesson, only tearing herself away from it when she heard the teaching duo dismiss the class, causing Amalia to yelp as she hurried to get away and back to her room. 

It was precisely on the way back to her chambers, that an unexpected but increasingly familiar voice cut through her thoughts. 

“Amalia.”

Gasping in surprise, she turned around, her face breaking into a wide grin at the sight of the one person she could call her friend here. She didn’t really understand why the sight of him made her so happy; she just relished the warm feeling she got whenever he was close. 

“Yugo!” She exclaimed in delight. Skipping closer to him, she couldn’t help but beam, “What a surprise, I didn’t expect to see you today! Normally, you come looking for me in my room shortly after you’re done with your daily training.”

Clearing his throat at the reminder of their daily routine, a small blush coming to his cheeks, the Eliatrope King tried to redirect the conversation where he wanted to without arousing suspicion. “Well, yeah. That’s true. But there’s something I want to ask you and the sooner I do it, the better.”

Then, he gestured for her to follow him as they continued their walk, their pace unhurried.

“Oh.” She could only blink at that, surprised by his reason for seeking her out. Pulling herself together, she shrugged. “I see. And… what is it you wish to ask me?”

“This is just like ripping a band-aid off. The sooner I say what’s on my mind, the sooner we’ll be done.” Yugo told himself, steeling his resolve even as he noticed Amalia’s big brown eyes staring back at him expectantly from the corner of his eyes. He gulped.That made it slightly more difficult. 

Taking one deep breath, he decided to just go for the kill. “Amalia, is there a reason why you’re always wandering around the palace halls on your own?”

Eyes widening at his question, she couldn’t help but avert her eyes, ignoring the way the action caused the Eliatrope to narrow his own eyes at her. Yes, there was a reason for her daily little excursions, but she couldn’t tell him what it was! Her arrival had already shaken them off quite badly, from what she’d gathered; she couldn’t make things even more difficult for them. 

Besides, admitting she just felt lonely while Yugo and his siblings were busy ruling their people just felt childish and selfish. 

“No, there’s no reason.” She said instead. “I just want to know more about you and your people, I guess.”

Unfortunately, saying that had been the wrong move. Alarmed that Efrim and Glip might have been right, and knowing the Divine Doll was lying because of her elusive response and guarded pose, Yugo pressed on. 

“Amalia, I’m not mad. If there’s something bothering you, you can just tell me.” He tried to keep his voice even and reassuring, but nothing could keep the tinges of irritation from leaking through. 

The Divine Doll, of course, picked up on it. “You don’t really sound like you’re not mad… Quite the opposite, really.”

“And it definitely doesn’t look like you have no reason to wander around on your own.” Yugo bit back accusingly, before wincing at how easily he was losing his temper. 

Startled by his words, Amalia bit her lip and averted her eyes. She contemplated on coming clean, but decided against it. It really was nothing, so she told him as such:

“It’s nothing important.” With a flick of her head, she walked ahead of him, hoping that would put an end to their conversation. She was abruptly stopped in her tracks, however, by Yugo’s hand firmly taking hold of her wrist and bringing her closer. 

Seeing the surprised expression on the Divine Doll’s face and worrying he might have gone too far or caused her harm, the King of the Eliatropes let her hand go with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Amalia, please. Just tell me what’s wrong. I promise, whatever the reason, we can talk things out, but I need to know why you’re always walking around the halls on your own.”

He chose to keep to himself how her actions were rather suspicious and putting his siblings on edge, the fear of a potential betrayal lingering in the air. He had the feeling that would only rattle her even more. 

For a while, Amalia said nothing. She just kept looking down to her side, her lips pursed and one hand rubbing the wrist he grabbed absentmindedly. For some reason, that irked him. That irked him beyond belief. 

Here he was, doing everything in his power to give her the benefit of the doubt, to allow her to prove his brothers wrong and clear things out. Great Goddess above, he was actually putting a stranger’s feelings over his siblings! And here she was, not even trying to make things easier for him, doing everything in her power to appear as guilty as possible instead. 

Narrowing his eyes, he opened up his mouth, “Amalia, were you sent here to—?”

But just as he was about to flat-out ask for her true intentions and risk offending the gods with his distrusting nature, the Divine Doll unknowingly saved him when she blurted out, “I just hate being in my room, okay?!”

Mouth dropping in disbelief at her words, his brain struggling to process what she just said, he caught a flicker of blue from the corner of his eyes. Blinking in surprise, his eyes travelling fleetingly to Amalia’s form as she hid behind him with a squeak, Yugo could only look on as two very agitated Chibi and Grougaloragran jumped right out of a portal and in front of them. 

“What do you mean you hate your room?!” They bellowed in unison, incredulous. Their imposing figures only intimidated Amalia even more. 

Taking notice of the Sadida Doll’s discomfort and feeling a surge of protectiveness rising within him even despite the previous tension, Yugo cleared his throat to get his brothers’ attention. Once their eyes settled on him, he discreetly motioned with his head for them to take a step back. 

As soon as they obliged his silent request, he glanced down at Amalia, meeting her gaze. “Is that true? You just don’t like your room?”

He almost felt a vein pop at the way Chibi and Grougal were ‘whispering’ among themselves about how it was a much bigger deal than he made it out to be. 

Amalia, however, was undeterred. Emerging from behind him, despite the fact that she had her arms around herself, hugging herself for comfort, her voice was loud and clear when she said, “Yes, that’s the truth. I spend so much time around the palace because I can’t stand being there.”

“But why?!” Chibi demanded, before a warning look from both Yugo and Grougal forced him to take a better look at the doll and realise he was making her uncomfortable. He sheepishly cleared his throat. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, my Lady, but yours is one of the finest rooms inside these walls.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just…” The words got stuck in her throat. She still felt so silly for complaining about this after the Eliatropes had been so kind to take her in, even when they had informed her she might not be able to fulfil her original goal. But just as she was biting down on her lip, willing the words to leave her mouth, she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

Looking up, she saw Yugo smiling comfortingly down at her, encouraging to speak up without fear of retaliation. She felt her cheeks grow hot. 

“Amalia, it’s okay. We just want to help, that’s all.”

Recovering from her momentary shock, she gave a determined nod and took one deep breath before explaining herself. “Back in Father’s realm, I could feel everything. Everything was a part of me and I was one with it all. It was like I was never alone and, I don’t know, I guess that was very comforting. 

“But here, in my room… Everything feels so sterile. I know there’s so much more beyond my balcony, beyond these walls, but I can’t connect with it like I did in Inglorium. At least, not when I’m in my room. Everything feels so cold in there, so stifling. The more I spend inside those walls, the more I can feel them closing in on me… I hate it. I only feel better when I’m away from it, like when you come to spend time with me.”

As she admitted how she felt, she looked up at Yugo, hoping to convey what she was saying to him in particular. “I guess I’m always going around the palace to escape that feeling, to escape that loneliness…” She said that last part with a voice so small, Yugo, Chibi, and Grougal had to strain themselves to hear her properly. 

Yugo was taken aback by the waves of sympathy he felt towards Amalia at that moment. He, too, hated being confined to one place, that was the reason why he and Adamaï were always adventuring, just like it explained why he’d been feeling so restless ever since they arrived at the World of Twelve and they’d been more or less confined to Oma Island for months. Thinking back to these past few weeks since the Sadida Doll arrived, he realised with a start he hadn’t been feeling quite as on edge since she arrived. 

Apparently, Amalia was good at taking his mind off certain things, after all.

And seeing her now, so despondent… It just didn’t sit well with him. He had to help her somehow.

Sending a meaningful look his brothers’ way, the three of them silently convened on what to do. With a nod of agreement upon deciding on what course of action to take, he turned his focus back on Amalia.

“Would it help if we tried to make your room feel less lonely?”

She perked up at that. “Can you really do that?”

“Please.” Chibi scoffed playfully, matching smirks on his and his twin’s faces. “Grougal and I designed this whole place’s layout.” He said, gesturing at the palace around them.

Grougaloragran finished for him. “There is nothing we cannot do.”

.....................................................................................................................

After a grateful nod from Amalia for their offer, the four of them made their way back to her room. Thinking back, Yugo had never paid it much mind. Back when it was still unoccupied he, realistically speaking, had no reason to be there, and once Amalia did arrive, the few times he picked her up he would just wait for her by the door, never stepping foot inside. 

But now that he was here, he could sort of see why Amalia would feel so down—though he would never admit it to Chibi and Grougal out of self-preservation. Yes, the Divine Doll’s room was pretty, spacious, and had everything anyone could ever need, but it definitely didn’t feel cosy or lived-in. Maybe it was because it had barely been two weeks since Amalia lived here, or maybe it was the fact that Yugo and Adamaï’s room back in their homeworld was filled to the brim with souvenirs from their many adventures, but this place was just bare.

If it weren’t because of Amalia’s unmade bed and crumpled sheets, the place would look as immaculate as if it didn’t have someone living in it at all. With a quick look inside her empty closet, Yugo momentarily wondered if he should summon the Royal tailor and have some clothes made for the Sadida Doll. She couldn’t just wear the very same outfit forever, no matter how good it looked on her—.

Shaking his head in an effort to dispel those thoughts, Yugo made a show of clasping his hands that momentarily startled the other people present. If he was being honest with himself, however, he was doing it more to get his own attention than his companions’. 

With forced cheeriness, he turned to the doll, “So, Amalia. Do you have any idea on how you’d like your room to look?”

“If you permit us, my Lady.” Chibi cut in, stepping deeper into the room. With a snap of his fingers, he opened a portal from which several papers fell into Grougaloragran’s awaiting arms. “While we insist you don’t change the murals—I’m sorry, but we really did spend a lot of time on those—, we have some suggestions that should really help liven up the room. Don’t we, Grougal?”

The dragon nodded. Picking up what to Yugo and Amalia looked like some random paper, he opened it with a flick of his wrist and pointed at its contents with his claw. “A warm-coloured carpet is a great choice; it can make anything feel more homey in no time at all, as well as help warm things up in winter. Chibi and Grougaloragran can also help you pick any poster you like to add a little personal touch. Not to mention, adding some home décor is another great choice. Personally, Grougaloragran believes you can never go wrong with a little gold.”

“But that’s mostly because he is a dragon and they're known for being such hoarders. Just ask Enutrof.” Chibi whispered to a bewildered Amalia, purposefully ignoring the way his twin huffed at him in annoyance. 

“You say that as if you weren’t wearing gold-plated armour right now.” Yugo pointed out flatly, raising one eyebrow sarcastically. 

Blinking in surprise at the revelation, Amalia tried to steal one quick peek under the muscular Eliatrope’s black cloak and, lo and behold, Yugo was right; he really did wear golden armour underneath!

Chibi made a psh! sound with his mouth as he crossed his arms in mock offence, rolling his eyes. Looking back down at the Divine Doll, he put an arm around her surprisingly small shoulders and brought her closer—and secretly but thoroughly enjoyed the way that small action seemed to ruffle his king’s feathers, judging from the irked grimace on his face and his left eye, twitching every so often. 

Two words: in denial. 

Stowing that for later, the white-haired Eliatrope turned his focus back on the conversation at hand. “Anyway, my Lady, it’s your room. What would you like it to have?”

Glancing back and forth between Chibi’s hand on her shoulder and back at his face, Amalia could only blink for a while, her brain struggling to catch up with the rapid-fire conversation they had just had over things she didn’t understand. She didn’t really know anything about carpets, or home décor, or whatever; but she did know what she wished her room had. 

“I was thinking about adding some plants?” She finally admitted. 

Her response caused the three men in her room to just blink at her for a few seconds, then at each other, astonished, though mostly for not being able to figure that out themselves. After a beat, the Sadida Doll had to do a double take because Chibi went from standing by her side to rejoining his twin brother through a portal. 

She wondered if she would ever get used to that. …or even go through one herself. What would that feel like?

“I mean, technically, she is a Sadida. It makes perfect sense she’d want some plants in her room.” Chibi reasoned, a hand to his hairy chin. 

“Plants do add a lot of life to a room.” Grougal concurred. Then, he pointed at a corner of the room, near her vanity. “We could put a nice ficus there.”

Chibi’s whole face just lit up. “That’s a great idea! Or maybe, we could put the ficus over there,” he pointed at the opposite side of the room, “and place a flower vase on her vanity!”

“Grougaloragran believes Qilby has quite the nice selection of specimens. We could always ask him.”

“Oh, you’re right! And you know Qilby, always eager to show off his entire collection. Though that could also mean he might get a bit cranky if we ask him to lend us some of his plants ‘just to decorate a room’”, he air-quoted with a roll of his eyes his twin couldn’t help but mimic. “Maybe if we told him—”

As they discussed things, Amalia just stared at them while they went at it, feeling a little lost. She might not have spent much time on Oma Island or got to intimately know its residents, but somehow, those two were some of the most eccentric people she had ever met. Suddenly she felt a presence slide up to her, though by then she had a pretty good guess as to who it was. And, sure enough, looking up, she saw Yugo staring down at her with a tentative smile on his lips.

“What do you say, Amalia?” He asked. “Do you think that’ll be enough to make you feel better?”

Instead of answering right away, Amalia bit the inside of her cheek, thinking long and hard about what she wanted and, more importantly, what she could do to get it. She was obviously grateful to Chibi and Grougaloragran for offering their help, but she honestly didn’t see how their suggestions could accomplish much. Especially when she believed she had a much more effective way of doing things…

Her mind made up, a determined glint in her eyes, she called out to the inventors. “Um, excuse me?” When she had their full attention, she continued. “While I’m very grateful for all your help, I think I actually have a better idea?”

Exchanging intrigued glances and a shrug, the white-haired Eliatrope and his dragon twin simply crossed their arms over their chests, giving the Sadida Doll the silent ‘go-ahead’. “Well, let’s hear it.”

However, Yugo, Chibi, and Grougaloragran could only look on, perplexed, when, instead of answering, Amalia simply turned her back to them and walked a little deeper into the room, placing herself just in between her bed and closet door. Jabbing a thumb her way, they tried asking their king for an explanation, but he could only offer a helpless shrug in response, just as lost as they were. 

Taking a deep breath, determination and power coursing through her veins, Amalia slammed her hands down against the floor, a current of green energy leaving her palms and travelling all around the room. 

For a moment, the three men present looked around the space, waiting for something to happen. When after a beat nothing seemed to have changed, Chibi opened his mouth to speak:

“Well, it was a nice try, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of this in no—!”

His words were interrupted by a yelp leaving his throat as a sudden tremor enveloped the room and almost sent him crashing against the floor. It was only thanks to his twin’s quick-thinking he didn’t fall flat on his butt. 

While Amalia was beaming, Yugo and his siblings could only look on, holding onto each other for dear life and their mouths agape, at the events taking place right in front of them. 

From seemingly out of nowhere, countless vines sprouted outside the room and cascaded down the balcony; they were so long they almost formed a rope that reached the ground outside the palace walls. Inside the room proper, a torrent of flowers of all colours bloomed all over the walls—though, Yugo noted, they were careful enough not to cover any of the murals painted on them. As far as met the eye, the few spaces that weren’t covered in flowers or murals had huge, thick vines and ferns forming spirals, be it on the walls or on the floor beneath their feet—Grougal actually had to jump up to avoid one that was literally growing underneath him. Even her vanity’s bulbshrooms shone brighter. Their heads snapped in alarm at the sound of something breaking and, sure enough, a giant, red flower had blossomed right beneath Amalia’s bed, replacing it, and sent the piece of furniture flying in a dozen tiny pieces.

Thinking fast, Yugo conjured several small portals to catch all the broken pieces and deposit them down safely right outside the palace grounds, forming a pile of garbage that raised a few eyebrows among the passersby.

The end result was as if nature had overtaken the Eliatrope castle after centuries of it being uninhabited. It was both breathtaking and a little sobering. And to think this was but a fragment of what a Divine Doll could do with nature…

After all that, the only thing they could say to Amalia’s display of power was:

“Grougaloragran stands corrected. We could not have done that.”

Laughing in delight, Amalia threw herself at her new bed, squealing happily as she rolled back and forth over its petals. Despite his awed state, Yugo couldn’t help but smile fondly at the scene. Seeing her so happy for once was just precious. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She exclaimed, propping herself onto a seated position. Opening her arms wide, she gestured at the space around her. “This is so much better. It finally feels like my room!”

“No need to thank us…” Chibi said, partly because they literally had done nothing. This was all her!

“It was our pleasure.” Grougaloragran agreed with a nod. 

And with that and kind wishes for Amalia, they exited the room, leaving their king and the doll alone. 

For some reason, while Amalia was on her bed, staring back at him expectantly, Yugo remained rooted to his spot. Suddenly, seeing her get comfortable inside the flower was bringing forth all kinds of thoughts he should not be having about her. It was best he remained as far away from her and her new bed as possible. 

“Thank you, Yugo.”

Amalia’s kind words broke him out of his trance. Looking back at her, his breath hitched. Once again, the sweet, warm, genuine grin she had on when they first met and he welcomed her in was curling at her lips, her brown eyes flashing with appreciation and gratitude. It was stunning. She was stunning.

He was starting to really hate Sadida and his prodigious craftsmanship. 

“For what?” He heard himself ask back. 

Amalia tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, almost shyly. “For… for worrying about me. For listening to me even when it was silly. You really didn't have to.”

“Hey, now.” He admonished her gently, subconsciously closing the distance between them. Almost without realising it, she took her by the hand. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t silly.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I mean, you’re our guest. The least we can do is make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I suppose you’re right. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He told her, a small smile growing on his lips. Then, he said a bit more seriously, “Amalia, if you ever feel uncomfortable or like you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. It’ll be much better if you’re just upfront about whatever’s bothering you, trust me.”

He chose not to tell her it would also make it easier for him and his siblings to come to trust her if she didn’t act so suspicious all the time. 

“I-I see.” She stuttered. “I-I’ll try to work on that.”

“I’m sure you will.” And with that, he let go of her hand and was about to leave her room when, just as he reached the door frame, she called out to him:

“Yugo, wait!”

Looking at her over his shoulder, her outstretched in his direction, he raised a curious eyebrow. “Yes, Amalia?”

“I-I was just wondering…” Amalia stammered, her hands fidgeting with her dress nervously. Pursing her lips, she couldn’t help but avert her eyes as she admitted, “I’d also really like to leave the palace.”

“Oh.” Was all Yugo could say to that. He rubbed the back of his head in discomfort, though he didn’t take his hood off, the doll couldn’t help but notice. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” 

“I just want to explore Oma Island!” She rushed out to clarify. “I… I just…” She hesitated. Frustrated with herself, she took a deep breath and started over. “Do you ever get the feeling that there’s so much more out there? Like your world is too small and you can’t wait to broaden it? That’s how I feel, I just can’t help it. Don’t get me wrong, the palace is beautiful and its staff very kind, and you’re always so nice to me but…! But I can’t help myself from wanting—.”

“More.” Yugo finished for her, unbidden. He could only stare at her in awe, his eyes glimmering with something foreign and powerful. Everything she said resonated with his very core. Everything she was expressing was the exact same thing he felt all the time! That pull to see what lay beyond his home, the need to live new experiences, the call of something new, and exciting, and unfathomable luring him in!

The feeling that you were constantly outgrowing what you already knew. 

That was precisely what he and Adamaï always felt, what pushed them to travel the world in search of adventure…

“For all we know, she’s just as much of an adventurer as you two and just wishes to explore a little.”

Mina’s earlier words echoed through his mind. Combined with her call on Amalia’s opinion on her room, it was a little unnerving how on the mark his sister could be sometimes. It was almost as if the prophet was her, instead of Chibi. 

Once again, Amalia put an early stop to his thoughts. 

“That’s right.” She chuckled softly. “My father helped create this world, Yugo, alongside the other gods. I just really want to see what they did.” Then, she grew nervous again, fiddling with her fingers. “So I was wondering if perhaps you could show me around?”

Almost involuntarily, his expression softened. Before he could even register his lips moving, he said, “Of course, Amalia. Let’s go out on an adventure together soon.”

The smile she rewarded him with was blinding.

It wouldn’t be until hours later that Yugo would come to a very unsettling realisation:

“Wait a minute, did she grow all that from stone?!”

[operationtimeguard]

the unknown lore

Olivia's master's thesis was on urban legends and their origins. She believed they shared similarities with traditional folklore and picked one to illustrate her point. The Unknown was believed to be a mysterious evil so heinous that investigating it almost immediately invited death. At least that was how the story went. And there were many stories. One story was of a woman in Greenville who disappeared without a trace on stage in front of a room full of witnesses. Her friend disappeared weeks later while trying to investigate what happened. The police were stumped. They had no clues or leads, and that mystery created the perfect storm for amplifying and spreading an urban legend.

Instead of going back home for spring break, Olivia headed to Greenville to investigate. She drove to the second-cheapest motel in town and began to set up in a small room that smelled of cigarette smoke, mold, and booze. She turned one wall into a kind of evidence board. She taped up articles and various theories on similar disappearances attributed to The Unknown throughout the country. She made connections with red string and yellow thumbtacks. Anyone walking into the motel room would think she had lost her mind.

There were many theories as to The Unknown's origin. Some said it was a malevolent entity conjured long ago by an ancient cult. Others believed it to be an alien that escaped from Area 51. Legend was it thrived in darkness and stole the voices of those it consumed so as to lure others to their doom.

The first newspaper articles Olivia found referenced a disappearance at a séance held in the 1800s. In the late 1950s, several college students mysteriously disappeared from a movie theater. Witnesses saw them go inside. Some remembered seeing them in their seats. But when the lights came up, they were gone. No one saw them leave. No trace of them was ever found. A projectionist claimed to have heard voices in the empty darkness of the theater later that night. But when he turned on the lights, no one was there. Then in the 1960s a group of teens disappeared while exploring an abandoned hospital believed to be haunted.

Stories and speculation arose to explain these mystifying disappearances. Some talked about a top-secret government research program run by the Office of Strategic Services in the 1950s. Project Apple-Pie. Mind control experiments using hallucinogenic drugs. Most of the records were destroyed in the '70s, but witnesses claim that experiments were performed on unsuspecting civilians in various settings and locations throughout the country, including movie theaters, hospitals and universities. Many believed these unethical experiments opened doorways to other dimensions which allowed evil things to enter the World.

Olivia wrote observations to pin to her evidence board. The Unknown dwells in darkness and can mimic its victims. Was it an evil entity? An extraterrestrial? A failed government experiment? Or just a garden variety serial killer allergic to publicity? She wanted to prove The Unknown was nothing more than modern-day folklore. And that investigation led here to this night, to this place, to this shabby motel room.

Yet she couldn't help but notice that the disappearances in Greenville included one detail the other stories didn't. The fog. And she half-remembered another urban legend with a thick, unnatural fog that somehow made people disappear. Maybe, she mused, the Greenville disappearances didn't relate to The Unknown but some other darkness.

For a moment Olivia wondered what would happen if one urban legend encountered another. She laughed at the idea and tempted fate by sketching a picture of what she thought The Unknown might look like. Then she pinned the sketch right in the middle of her evidence board, laughed nervously and waited to be consumed by The Unknown for having tried to define it. Anxiously, she stared at the windows and front door for seconds that turned to minutes and minutes that turned to hours.

But nothing happened.

Now it was after 2AM and Olivia was exhausted as she examined the articles and sipped cold coffee. So, when she first heard the whisper, she wondered if she imagined it.

"Olivia…

It seemed to come from the bathroom.

"Help.”

The lights in the room flickered.

"Who's there?"

Olivia stared with wide eyes at the closed door of the bathroom. Her mind was

playing tricks on her. Or-

Her friends had shown up to prank her.

"Ariella? Sean? Stop messing around…”

The lights continued to flicker as she edged closer to the bathroom. Fear spread in long waves through her, and a terrible realization bloomed within her that The Unknown was behind the bathroom door, was preparing to make her pay for her hubris. Something began to whisper her name again. But then the voice rose, cracked, and distorted in sudden panic as if the brooding creature behind the door were under attack.

An unknown horror filled Olivia's heart and left room for nothing else. She breathed deeply as cold sweat beaded on her forehead. She placed her hand on the doorknob. The lights turned off, but she could still hear the strangely inhuman cries. Then the lights turned back on, and she could see a strange black fog seeping through the bottom of the door.

Hesitantly, Olivia creaked the door open to see a bulky shape with frenzied tentacles being pulled into a thick mass of fog, vanishing slowly into the darkness like a dying shadow. The shrieking stopped suddenly, neighbors banged on the wall to turn down the TV, and Olivia stared intently at the black abyss that yawned before her. She wasn't sure what to do. Part of her wanted to run. But the other part wanted to know more. And as she considered what to do next, dozens of voices began to call out to her with promises of the unknown and the impossible and of unearthly things beyond human experience.

[icanreadthisbutnotbooks]

Okay so I have a theory on what Kaydens backstory might be.I think I might be over analysing and nitpicking, but you guys can be the judge.

So my theory is that Kayden may come from some sort of military/government family.

Point one: His meeting with Jiwoo.

When he first finds out Jiwoo doesn't know what an Awakener is, his reaction is "oh right there are some kids like you". This could mean Kayden already had knowledge of the awakener world. There are two scenarios where this is plausible; he was born into an awakener family, but the fact that not even one organisation knows what his last name is goes against this. Another scenario is that he could be from a military/government family, it's been stated that the government knows that awakeners exist. Upon getting his powers he could have just been told by his family about the awakener world.

Second point: Kayden seems to know a lot of details about many organisations, along with being very knowledgeable about awakener world politics.

At first this can just be pushed off as Kayden learning details about people he wants to fight. One thing that's off here is the fact that he seems to also know about the children of the organisations. Case and point he already seems to know about Duke and about the talents of other groups. He could have started researching for Jiwoo, but that doesn't seem to be in line with Kayden's way of teaching. He also already knew of Jiyoung's talent even though she managed to hide it from most of the awakened society. Another thing to consider is the fact that he can predict the behaviour of the other top ten, and knows their personality well. He knows that Schneider would most likely kill Duke if he lost, and he was right he was going to kill Duke. From the interaction they have with each other, it's clear that this is the first time Schneider has met Kayden face to face. Yet Kayden already seems to know the nuances of his personality. He was right about Supri wanting to take their side over Andrei's. Even when the Korean awakeners where on the fence on what Astras would do to them, Kayden already knew for a fact that Astra would move with a 100% certainty. He also knew the location of those three top 10 that attacked him. There is no mention of a gathering of those three by anyone in Korea, despite the fact that would be a huge deal since it was either happening near or in Korea. Yet they clearly know of Kayden's entry, which could mean that the other 3 were meeting in secret. Yet Kayden ended up finding them.

Point 3: Somehow a young Kayden didn't pop up on any organisation's radar.

Somehow a child/teenage Kayden didn't get forced to join any organisation. From Sucheons grandfather we can see that teens with potential could be forced into joining organisations. They could also be forced to join criminal organisations. Kayden made his debut fighting people, and he was at a level that he couldn't be forced into joining any group. Kayden from the get go clearly decides he doesn't want to be in an organisation despite it's benefits. If he came from a military/government family it would make sense that they would have; the power to hide him, knowledge of the operations of the awakener world, plus a safe space for him to train while hidden.

Point 4: His mannerisms.

Whenever we see glimpses of Kayden walking he always holds an upright straight posture, this can also be seen in the way he sits;he sits upright with his legs crossed. Another thing to note is that unless Kayden is fighting, his personality is more on the cordial side. When Kayden first meets Jiwoo he's annoyed but he doesn't just abandon Jiwoo, many of the powerful awakners shown wouldn't even entertain the cat catching shenanigans in the first few chapters. He also doesn't really seem to find the act of teasing Iseul for her crush amusing, his reactions show that he thinks such things are just unnecessary or maybe rude. Kayden also in a couple chapters, not only in Ian's gives criticism on manners. Kayden doesn't slouch unless he's trying to aggravate or annoy someone and his personality becomes more volatile when aggravated. Kayden also shows formal manners when meeting Jiwoo's mom, he doesn't necessarily have to introduce himself in such a manner; it is his own choice to present himself in such a manner towards his mom. From Kartiens reaction we know that Kayden didn't really need to present himself in such a way. The other top ten save for Supri and Veremonte wouldn't have even bothered to give a shrivel of politeness, and even in the case of Supri and Veremonte they wouldn't have been as polite. If Kayden is from a military/government family it would make sense that manners would be something that he was forced to learn.

As for why his family would let him do the things he does? I have no clue. Maybe he's a runaway, maybe he's an illegitimate child. Maybe his Family hid him away and didn't let the public know of his existence. Since powers show up when young, maybe his showed up early and his family decided to hide him.Maybe once he was discovered to have powers his family trained him to be a weapon. This theory makes a full on Rabbit hole of other theories.

I think I'm just overanalyzing things. Again this is just a theory I randomly thought of no one needs to take it seriously. Even the evidence is kind of happenstance. This is just an idea I thought was fun. If anyone has any theories of what Kaydens life may have been I would love to hear it.

[sonicfanthenightfury5099]

Werewolf! Michael myers RZ Halloween NSFW Alphabet

Note: I wanted to do an NSFW Alphabet for the Werewolf Tall Mickey for a while now. This gif is giving me them Tall Myers vibes.

18+ Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex?)

Panting like crazy, he's been through so much fucking he's panting like a dog who ran a long way. He starts to clean himself like a dog licking your juices off his balls, which leads him to clean your back, which you don't mind. He then asks if you want food, which you replied with a yes to that. Eating in bed with making sure you're doing well after the fucking he did to your body, He'll lift you up to take a hot shower before bed.

B = Bodypart (Their Favorite Bodypart of their body and also their Partner's)

The giant is a Werewolf. His arms had a lot of strength to them to decapitated a victim, and the jaws he has, he would be breaking bones and crushing wind pipes with his large fangs.

You and your small frame to him perfect to him. He loves your soft lips that are so comfortable against his. He melts when you try to reach his face to cress it

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He has a breeding kink, and he's staying in deep till he fills you up real good.

D =Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to see you in loose lingerie, which he will try carefully to take it off in a creative way every time. A way of teasing you till be gets down to the night of breeding sex

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

He had none if you lived in a Sanatorium for 15 years, and you mostly did art in your room. You can only imagine it was when he got out he had seen Victims doing it, especially in his old abandoned house. He may have seen some videos online when you were at work.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, easy position to learn, and to see your face scrunched up in the amount of pleasure you're in. Cowgirl, you can ride and bounce on top while he watches you ride on his beast and play with yourself. Doggie Style, do I have to say why he loves this position? He'll put you into this position for a little rough fucking from behind. Mating Press, his breeding kink kicks in when he's ready to release his load into your warm womb. He'll stay in that position as a plug to keep his semen inside you.

G = Goofy (Are they more Serious in the moment, or are they humorous, ect?)

This time means I want to make you feel amazing in the moment, so he doesn't want the mode spoiled by something goofy during the act he'll become grouchy which will take forever to get him back in the mood.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the Carpet match the Drapes, ect?)

On top he has lovely long locks, he had grown out when he was in Smith's Grove with some stuble on his face, down below, it's a little forest, but a quick trim down there it looks better. When he goes wolf, looking a bit like an Old English SheepDog due to his long hair, and his abdomen is completely covered by his long wolf hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect..)

He's definitely wanting to give you a lot of kisses while praising your body during what he calls sometimes, "Breeding time," which is every time when you both have sex. Having him holding you in his arm in between rounds, he's careful not to be laying his whole body on you. Definitely saying sweet nothings in your ears during the round.

J = Jack/Jill off (Masturbation headcannon)

He doesn't do it often, but if that urge creeps on him, he's going to take care of it. He can turn you on by how he would show how he strokes, starts at the base of his shaft stopping halfway, then strokes fast at his tip. Making a wet sound from it, he will do that when he fingers you.

K = Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding, praising of any kind, Cockwarming, and size differents kink

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do )

This man wants to rut in the bedroom cause it's more comfortable for sexy time.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

A touched starving man gets turned on by suggested touches on his body. He would be thinking about you with a heavy pregnant belly with swollen breasts for you and his pups that makes him go into breeding mode.

N = No (Something that they wouldn't do, turns offs)

Definitely, no mentioning Smith's Grove or Sister

Won't turn you into a Werewolf if you ask him. He loves you this way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills ect)

Definitely giving you some oral, eating you out like a straving beast. Michael definitely enjoys a good oral treatment on his disco stick (He'll pound you real good as a Thank you.)

69 is his favorite. He's eating you out while you're giving him head.

P = Pace (Are they Fast and Rough? Slow and Sensual? Ect.)

Does start slow before picking up the pace and going to pound town. He doesn't want to go too rough on you, but he can't help it. He loves you so much. He'll go soft the next round

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on Quickies rather than proper sex, how often, ect)

Depending on how he feels, he would not be interested one day. The next, he's got you bending over the couch or counter and give you one. He'll be giving you more when he is done hunting.

R = Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take any risks, ect

Out of curiosity or just getting horny when out in the woods, he would want to go down on you in the woods. Like a wolf in the wild, he will do the dirty with you on a blanket (so your back isn't pricked by branches just so you're comfortable while in pleasure Town) He might want to fuck you when he's in his Werewolf forme, his huge dick on you looks like it can't fit in and would tear your holes into one big hole (and a trip to the ER)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

Will go all night if he's back home early or he's having a day off, around 10 or 12 rounds, depending on how much energy he has that day. Morning sex is a big Yes for him.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You probably have a vibrator you have in your dresser that you would use before you met Michael. You take it out to use it when he's not home and needy of him. He finds it useless cause why would you use it if he can give you endless hours of pleasure from him.

U = Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

His form of teasing is showing you is the for mentioned of stroking his cock, and fingering while stroking his tip making a luded sound from it. Cockwarming is another form of teasing from him he'll be in you for a while till he's ready.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Loud Panting, grunts, and moans in his gruff voice, Hella hot.

W = Wildcard (Random Head cannons)

When you first met, Michael wasn't comfortable with you on seeing his face. He would wear his wore out mask or his Jack o lantern one. When is he ready for you to see his face he'll let you do the honor of taking off his mask.

Michael would, on occasion, pick wild flowers when he's out for you. He would come home with a big boutique of wild flowers he found in the woods.

He would make you a mask as another form of his love for you.

Michael may not look like it, but he deep down he wants to hear the sounds of little feet on the floor one day. He would wonder when the day will come you tell him that you want a baby.

X = X-ray (What's going on in their pants?)

Human: A good size, 7 inches with good girth

Werewolf: Hidden underneath his shaggy fur is a near 10 inches cock with big girth and knot (he won't put all of it in but started half before going in fully when you get used to his size)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive depends on his mood. He would be cranky one day the next day he's horny and uses his look when he wants to rut.

Z = Zzzz.. (..how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

After a shower and some leftovers, you cuddle up with your man clean clothes and dried you'll drift off to sleep. He'll follow suit when you're asleep and you're doing good after the pounding you got from him.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

The Strange Disappearance of Kenny Veach

The Mojave Desert, located in the southwestern United States, is a brutal and unforgiving landscape.

Sprawling over parts of four states; California, Nevada, Arizona and Utah, the area is so vast that entire European countries like Ireland and Iceland could fit comfortably within its boundaries.

The “high desert” is prone to extreme temperatures and arid conditions. In November of 2014, an American hiker named Kenny Veach had a strange encounter with a mysterious cave in the Sheep Mountain area, just north of Las Vegas.

Once, he posted: “I hike over mountain top after mountain top and sleep on peaks under the stars . . . Sometimes I have to scale giant cliffs to get myself out of a jam, but I always make it back.”

He was proud of the fact that there was only one time that he had to be rescued on one of his adventures, and that was when he injured his leg at the top of a mountain.

Tired of the daily Monday-through-Friday grind, Kenny wanted to be his own boss, be in charge of his own life, and have the free time to immerse himself in his desert explorations.

So, he quit his day job and decided to be an inventor. He started a YouTube channel, documenting his creations and his forays into the desert.

It was in June of 2014, using the name Snakebitmcgee, Kenny left a comment in response to a YouTube video that read: That ain’t nothing. I am a long-distance hiker. One time, during one of my hikes out by Nellis Air Force Base, I found a hidden cave.

The entrance to the cave was shaped like a perfect capital M. I always enter every cave I find, but as I began to enter this particular cave, my whole body began to vibrate.

The closer I got to the cave entrance, the worse the vibrating became. Suddenly, I became very scared and high-tailed it out of there. That was one of the strangest things that ever happened to me. 

Unbeknownst to Kenny and the rest of the world, that comment would have tragic consequences.

Kenny’s comment on that video sparked a flurry of requests for him to prove his claim.

Since he hadn’t documented the first trip to what would become known as “the M cave”, he needed to go back to the area to locate it and, this time, document what he found.

On his second search for the cave, he went armed with a 9-millimeter handgun and a video camera. 

He documented some wildlife and found a whole horde of pine nuts that he gleefully ate on camera. He stood next to an abandoned mine shaft and rather sheepishly declared that he was unable to find the cave on his second hike.

Much to Kenny’s dismay, that video was met with criticism. Many thought he had made the whole thing up, and the public demanded proof of his claim of a mysterious cave with supernatural properties.

Viewers actively encouraged, and some even dared Kenny to go back out to the mountain range a third time. 

However, one comment on his video, which has since been deleted, read, “No! Do not go back there. If you find that cave entrance, don’t go in, you won’t get out.”

Whether that comment was made by somebody teasing Kenny or whether it was a serious warning by somebody who was personally familiar with the cave is unknown.

Regarding the M cave, Kenny said, “I solo hike across mountain tops that most people wouldn’t dare go. I have been in more caves than I can count. I play with rattlesnakes for fun. But this one particular cave was beyond anything I had ever encountered.”

Hoping to put the naysayers in their place, Kenny hiked out to the territory a third time.

On the 10th of November 2014, Kenny once again made his way to the Sheep Mountain area, which is close to the U.S. Air Force installation called Area 51, known for its speculated connection to UFOs and secret government experiments.

It’s located near Groom Lake and is within the Nevada Test and Training Range. As late as 2012, the U.S. government denied the existence of Area 51, and it is still closed to the public.

Both ground and aerial searches were conducted, but no sign of Kenny could be found.

Dave Cummings from Red Rock Search & Rescue reported finding Kenny’s cell phone next to an abandoned vertical mine shaft, where he filmed part of the M cave video.

Specially trained individuals were called in to conduct a search of the mine. Unfortunately, aside from his vehicle and his cell phone, no trace of Kenny was ever found.

[gretavanlace]

Silent Night

Jake Kiszka x Reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, toys, language, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, masturbation, etc

First, I don’t know who edited this pic of Jake, but I am forever in your debt. Let me know if you need a kidney or something. Second, I realize this is late and Christmas is over, but I trust you’ll forgive me. Xoxo

UPDATE: @dancingtopurplerain created this lovely edit of Christmas Jake! Please show her some love for sharing her talents with us!

Your finger is pressed flat against the gift box, holding a fold of wrapping paper in place - Where the hell is the tape? - when you feel the electric spark of his gaze clocking you.

Eyes lifting in exasperation, you find him leaned against the archway, eyeing you as you wrap a gift for his brother. Why do you alway get stuck with the holiday heavy lifting? If things were left up to him, everyone would get a gift card and a shot of single malt whiskey for Christmas.

“Whatcha doin’?” He asks, with a strange smile playing at the corners of his plush lips.

“Wrapping a sweater for Sam.” Your tone is snarky, but you can't seem to lose the edge. “You know, the sweater that I shopped for? The one I picked out and am now wrapping. Why do I always get stuck playing Santa?”

He shrugs, arms crossed casually. “I guess you just give more of a shit.”

“Why are you so smug?” You abandon the present and lean back in your chair at the dining room table. “I know you haven’t found your gifts, I hid them extra well this year.”

He’s spoiled, and slightly bratty at times. Every year, just like a child, he’ll scour the house top to bottom in search of his Christmas treasure…far too impatient to wait until December 25th.

Josh, on the other hand, loved the exhilaration in his youth. He lived for the early morning rush of flying ribbons and bows. So, true to brotherly form, Jake would hunt for his twin’s loot as well, and threaten to spoil the surprise if Josh didn’t do his chores in exchange for silence.

“No,” his smirk widens. “Haven’t found my gifts. I searched though. I think someone has gotten very good at hiding things from me.”

You nod dismissively, “Okay then, if you’re all finished up with being a failure of a snoop, why don’t you help me wrap some of these?”

His stare lingers on your face “Seems to me like you have everything under control. In fact, it seems to me like you’re very well-versed in taking care of things yourself.”

At last, you locate the tape and fasten the cheerful paper in place, paying him little attention in your annoyance. “Yes, yes. I’m very self-sufficient, Jacob. Thank you for noticing. However, it would be nice if you…”

You fall silent and unsure, noting his curious expression. He looks like he’s hoarding a very salacious secret. His eyes carry the air of indecency you’ve come to know so well.

He looks arrogant and victorious. Almost hauntingly so. His gears are turning deviously, that much is clear. He’s engaged in a constant game that no one else seems to be in on, and something has played well into his hand.

“You look pleased with yourself.” You offer quietly, treading lightly.

He simply carries on watching you as if he can read your thoughts; like he’s figuring you out. A puzzle he’s fitting together piece by piece.

He’s enjoying your unease, while fighting a tiny smirk.

You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, inexplicably nervous. “What?”

“These can wait.” He gestures at the gifts scattered about and holds a hand out to you.

Unsure, you eye him. Watchful, as though he’s a breathtaking snake that could strike out and sink its teeth into your flesh without warning, poisoning you with the sweetest of venom.

“Why so shy, Christmas elf?” He rasps, leaning forward to meet your line of sight. “Afraid you’ve landed yourself on the naughty list?”

His tone, cashmere soft and gentle, sends a tickling shiver up the nape of your neck. “Maybe.”

He tilts his head in contemplation. “Maybe? What have you done?”

Silently, you watch him watch you. A heated stand-off choked with something you’re unable to place…though you like it all the same.

He breaks the tension by snapping his fingers. “I’ve waited long enough. Up you go.”

Rising to your feet without question - how does he do that? - you allow him to take your hand in his, following blindly as he leads you towards the stairs.

“I really did look for my presents, you know…” he explains as if making mundane conversation, climbing the stairs slowly with you in tow. “Didn’t find them.”

“Perhaps I got tired of your impatience and didn’t shop for you this year.” You suggest.

“Perhaps.” He squeezes your hand, leading the way up to the landing. “You’re very mysterious, aren’t you? My pretty little dark horse.”

He nudges the bedroom door open with the tip of his boot, “I said I didn’t find my gifts, but I never said I came up completely empty handed.”

Your eyes land on the tiny bag waiting at the foot of the bed. It looks innocuous; just a simple oversized makeup bag. Powder blue. Innocent. But you know better, and you can guarantee he does too.

He’s taking in your reaction with barely contained glee. With you, quite obviously, giving him the show he’d so hoped for.

“It looks like you recognize this…” he ambles over and hooks a finger through the handle, dangling it on display. “But that can’t be right because…” he sighs and drops it back down against the duvet, “I know what’s in this bag. And my angel would never…”

His eyes are burning into yours as your face flushes with the pounding heat of shame. Your fingers caught in the cookie jar.

“Isn’t that what you said?” He grasps the zipper pull, easing it open at an excruciatingly slow clip. “You told me that you don’t touch yourself when I’m away. No matter how long I’m gone. No matter how many times I’ve asked, begged, to listen to you with my cock in my hand.”

“Jake…”

He silences you by upturning the bag, spilling toys out like evidence in a courtroom. “I wonder where these came from, then?” He asks conversationally. “Do you think someone might have broken in and left them? Seems like a strange thing to do, but you never know these days.”

“Jake.” You repeat, at a loss for much else.

“What?” He feigns concern. “Maybe we should call someone…safety first. Unless…” he shakes his head as if an idea has just occurred to him, but he thinks it’s outlandish.

You wait quietly. If you’ve learned anything over the years it's to let Jacob have his fun, because he’s going to have it regardless. He won’t be denied.

“Unless…” he steps forward and tilts your face up by your chin. “Do you know something about this? Have you been lying to me? That’s not very nice at all, now is it, pretty girl?”

“I…” you stammer unsteadily. This is ridiculous. You’re a grown woman, confident and in love with the devil of a man standing before you, who is clearly very into this…but there’s that unwelcome voice in the back of your mind. A wretched-shrew version of yourself barking about how good girls don’t indulge, and if they do, they certainly don’t talk about it.

“Oh, poor little love…” he mocks teasingly. “I think you do know something about this, don’t you? Your cheeks are as pink as your sweet cunt. Are these yours, baby? C’mon,” he snatches up a cutesy purple vibrator and taps the tip of your nose with it. “You can tell me.”

A bashful nod is all you can manage, but he’s off and running with the small concession.

He begins sifting through the bounty, eyes alight like a kid in a candy store. “Even this one?” He is brandishing a dildo, wobbling it around obscenely. “Do you slide this inside when you're all alone? When there’s no one around to hear all those dirty little sounds you make?”

You nod, swallowing thickly. He is absolutely vulgar, and you’re embarrassed beyond description, but that somehow makes this even hotter.

“Yeah?” He traces your tightened nipples through your shirt with the head of the silicone cock his fist is closed around. “You lie in our bed and make yourself cum and leave me out when all I want to do is listen? I’d call you cruel if I didn’t know better.”

“I just...” Your voice is small, but breathy with want. Invisible fingers of desire are reaching out for him, but still, you long to turn back the hands of time. To hide them wisely. Or better still, to not have been so damn squeamish about it and showed him yourself. You picture the shock that would have flickered to life in his eyes.

“You just what?” He coaxes with gentle authority.

“I just can’t. Not with you watching, or even listening.” The confession tumbles forth, melting into one rushed word.

Clicking his tongue as though it’s a shame, he creeps the toy up to glide over your throat. “Angel’s just as pure as the driven snow until no one’s around to enjoy the show, is that it?”

He has clouded your brain right up, every thought blurred and faded around the edges like you’re stumbling through a lucid dream.

“Since you’ve grown so quiet, I suppose I’ll do the talking for you.” Smooth silicone is now sweeping across your lips. “You like that anyway, don’t you pretty girl? When I talk to you? Lick.”

You nod, curl your tongue pensively, and wonder if he’s rendered you speechless for good this time.

“Yeah,” he leans in close and pecks a chaste kiss upon your cheek. “I know you do. Now be a good girl and go get comfy on the bed.”

There is hesitation on your part, and he isn’t a fan. “I’d behave myself if I were you, little girl. Santa’s watching.”

“I could say the same to you.” There, you’ve found your voice after all.

“It’s hurtful that you seem to know so little of me,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment. “I don’t have to do anything to get my way. On your knees.”

Sinking to the floor instantly, you watch him through the fan of your lashes, trying to map out his next move. What you don’t anticipate, is the warm laugh that shakes his shoulders.

“Look at my sweetheart, so pretty at my feet, proving my point.”

You’d hate him if you didn’t love him so fucking much.

“Come on,” he helps you up with a wink as you scowl at him. “Off you go. On the bed. And get rid of all that,” he waves a hand at your cozy pjs. “You won’t be needing those for what I have planned.”

“And what exactly do you have planned?” You question, feeling warm under the spotlight of his carnal scrutiny.

He watches you unbutton your pajama top with a nod of silent praise when it falls to the floor- a puddle of red flannel at your feet.

“What do I have planned?” He kicks your question back conversationally “Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

Your pajama bottoms are next to go, and with small triumph, you note the quiet growl that rumbles in the back of his throat. “Where are your panties, pretty girl?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You tease. It’s unwise, he unmistakably has a firm grip on the upper hand here, but you can’t help yourself.

“No, truth be told, I wouldn’t like to know.” He shrugs. “I’d like to burn them all. It ought to be a crime to hide that beautiful cunt away. Lie down on the bed.”

You make a move to tug your socks off first, they’re of green stripes and rosy-cheeked elves smiling warmly…but he stops you with a sound of disapproval. “Let’s leave them on. A bit of wholesomeness is always nice. Makes me feel like I’m corrupting the innocent.”

Stretching out across the bed, fully on display for him, you preen prettily. “That’s exactly what you’re doing, Jake.”

“Innocent?” His brow frowns and tilts up in feigned confusion…it reminds you of the pained, slightly submissive expression he wears just before he’s about to cum. “You’re far from chaste, pretty girl…and your secret bag of tricks only proves what I’ve always known.”

“And what’s that?” You let your knees fall apart and his hungry stare hones in as if you're a beacon in the night.

“That you’re fucking filthy. A dirty little plaything all for me. You’re my whore, aren’t you baby?” His words are slow, and thick, famished with need. “Say it. Tell me what you are.”

“I’m your whore, Jake.” Your voice quivers with a level of desire that rivals his own.

He saunters over and begins sifting through your toys. “Do you have a favorite, baby?”

You shake your head. That technically isn’t lying, right? You haven’t actually spoken the untruths aloud.

He sees straight through you as easily as he would were you made of glass. “That’s not true…” he sing-songs mockingly. “Is it this one?” He holds up a shiny, chrome-finish bullet, but only for a second; he knows that isn’t the prize in which he seeks.

“Maybe this is our winner…” he inspects a party of a tiny toy…undeniably fun, but far from a favorite, and then tosses it aside as well.

He observes you, lingering on your face, calling forth everything he’s ever known about you as though preparing for a not safe for work pop quiz. “You know, my girl is a classic. Traditional. Reminds me of old money. I think…” he scans the toys, running thoughtful fingers over them as smoothly as he caresses the neck of his Gibson. “Yes, back to basics.”

He wraps his finger around an understated dildo, complete with raised veins and ridges. Absorbing your reaction, he nods cockily. “I know my girl, don’t I?”

The heat has risen to your cheeks again, your very body a betrayal to your inner thoughts. Desperate to play the game, you work hard to maintain eye contact, but find yourself staring over his shoulder anyway.

“I love it best when you stare directly at me,” he soothes like a spoken lullaby. “But, I’ll let you hide just a bit longer, my shy little girl.”

Your chin tilts upward in defiance you can’t help. “I’m not shy, just private…and you just have to be included in everything or you get fussy.”

“Fussy?” He asks with a humorless huff. “I’m not sure I’m in love with that description.”

“I doubt you are.” You challenge, scrambling to find your footing before he’s got you helpless and pleading.

“I’m bored with this.” He sighs, brandishing the toy that, without saying a word, you’ve told him was teacher’s pet. “Here you go sweetheart, you get to love on my competition tonight.”

Competition? It’s laughable. Nothing could ever compare to Jake. He’s in an elevated class all alone. It’s also laughable that he’s deemed you confident enough to do this in front of him. Not with him, which would have been an immeasurable task itself, but for him. In front of him. While he sits on the sidelines and sips at the IPA he’s grabbed off the dresser and is now casually nursing from the chair off-set the bed.

Legs still spread in invitation, you clutch the pliable plastic as if it’s a lifeline rather than the very source of your inhibition.

“So, this is what you’ve been denying me?” He stretches his legs out before him and settles in, eagle-eyeing you as one might a starlet on a stage bathed in beautifully flattering lights. “C’mon, pretty girl…show me.”

“Come lie down with me.” You pout softly, playing into his affinity for coddling you. If he’s beside you, you can touch him as well, leaving you less ‘under the microscope’.

“And give up this view?” His grin is slow and sly. “No, thank you. You look gorgeous from here. So wet. You’re glistening, you know…twinkling like lights on a tree.”

“Yeah?” You’re practically purring…he makes you feel pretty everywhere.

“Yeah.” He leans forward, eyes locked between your legs. “Next year, you’re the holiday theme. I’m going to hang ornaments from every branch of the fullest, tallest tree I can find. Each one pink, to match your lovely velvet cunt. An angel on top instead of a star, because that’s what you are. You’re my angel. Aren’t you, baby?”

Your grip, still ironclad, tightens further around the toy. Your legs, long to squeeze together…the pressure would be such a welcomed relief, you writhe subtly, “Yes, I’m your angel, and you’re mine. You’re the most beautiful angel of all.”

“The most beautiful of all?” His query is teasingly unsure as he pretends to think this one through. “No, pretty girl, I refuse to rob you of your title. Now do as you’re told and slip it inside that snug little pussy for me. Make yourself feel good.”

Timidly, you reach down, easing it in slowly. You get as far as the tip before your nerves break out the big guns to win the battle.

“None of that, baby.” He gently scolds. “Show me how you fix it when I’m not around to make that needy cunt cry.”

He watches on as you draw a centering breath and plunge the cock inside so deeply there’s nothing left to take. How you wish it was his. Warmer, thicker, those blissful throbs and twitches that set your heart beating as rapidly as a flitting hummingbird’s.

“That’s it,” he groans, a barely there tremor in his voice betraying his calm facade. “That’s my good girl. How often, pretty girl? Do you snuggle in every night while I’m away and treat yourself real sweet while you picture all the things I do to you in the dark?”

You nod with a soft whine as you begin moving the toy in and out delicately. It isn’t every night, but for the sake of the moment, a teensy exaggeration is more than warranted.

“I wish you’d told me sooner.” He’s palming his cock absently through his jeans. “Because I’ve thought about it so many times. Do you fill this lonely house with all of those beautiful noises you make? Those pouty uh uh uh’s that float out of you every time I push in deep and grind against your clit?”

You shake your head, losing yourself little by little as the tension begins winding up low in your belly, growing white hot as you listen to him mimic the way you sound when you’re lost in it.

“No?” He sounds inquisitive, and incredibly turned on.

It spurs you on, and you begin fucking yourself a little faster, the balls of your feet sinking down into the bed for the leverage you need to properly rock your hips.

“Why not?” You catch the hum of his zipper splitting open, and then the sight of his perfect cock being tugged free, hard and slick at the tip.

“The neighbors.” You pant through quivering whimpers and shaky hitches of breath. “They know when you’re gone. So if they heard me, they’d know that…”

He cuts you off, “They’d know you were in our bedroom with your little bag of tricks fucking yourself to sleep without me?”

A cry, anguished and fevered, claws its way out of your chest, and he’s on his feet in a blink, crawling over you on the bed, neglected cock in hand. “Ah ah ah,” he hushes into your ear, hovering just out of reach. “I want the real deal, baby. Exactly the way it is when it’s only you and these four walls. So be quiet as a whisper…what if they hear you?”

Muffled gasps choke out of you, strangled and ragged in your taught windpipe. “Yeah, listen to you…” he mocks, the equivalent of pulling your pigtail on the playground.

“Why do you worry about them anyway? They already know. They hear you in here begging for awful, unspeakable things. Desperate and pleading for my cock deeper, and faster, and harder until our headboard rattles the pictures on their walls.”

“Fuck, Jake…” your back arches away from the sheets, you need to be closer to him the closer you get. And you’re so close. So fucking close.

“Yeah?” The word lilts up at the end tauntingly. “You like that? I just know they fuck to us. I just know they listen to you with all your candy sweet moans until they can’t take it anymore.”

The very idea…Jake’s belief that you sound sexy enough that even strangers get off on it, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his fist as he strokes his aching cock, sends you toppling over the razor's edge you’ve been skating along.

A sob of finality bursts from you, shattering the peace, but his palm is quick to silence you. “Quiet, pretty girl. Remember? Not a sound.”

You’re cumming so hard, fucking yourself frantically through it as you spill, hot and wet, all over your hand and down your wrist, soaking your thighs and the sheets.

It’s your eyes that finally do him in. The way they burn into his own just before rolling back in your head blissfully…he releases against your stomach, warm and delicious, like something you might lick greedily from the spoon while baking Christmas cookies.

You did so well, hardly made a sound at all…but the rules don’t seem to apply to him, and the room fills up, thick and heady, with his shuddering groans and obscene curses as he works himself through it.

Soon, you’re both working to chase down your breath, having cleaned up with the threadbare shirt he yanked over his head afterward.

It’s calm and dreamlike, with your head on his chest, counting the beats of his heart, until he twists his body around to grab his phone from its resting place on the nightstand.

“What’re you doing?” You sigh at the unwelcome, momentary parting.

“I think I’ll order some party favors.” The lazy excitement is more than evident in his tone. “You’re gonna need a bigger bag.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @gardenofgreta @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @joshkiszkas @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelight-fanfic @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @dvrkblooms @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

[satoverse]

▪︎Summary: Y/n sure likes to keep a lot of secrets to her friends but to the day has finally come and her secrets are exposed will they abandon her or will they stay.

WARNING: mafia!au, non-jujutsu sorcerers!au, modern day!au, angst, mentions of sexual conversations here and there, smut(at some point), TW!mentions of alcohol, fighting, blood, knives, guns, mentions of violence, brainwashed reader(at some point)

PART 1

Vengeance...Blood...Kill..

And with those three words all i could think of was the blood gushing out of their bodies, watching them die mercily...

__________________________

Having to hide such a huge secret is not the easiest thing a human being can achieve to do. Sure, it is easy to hide the fact that you kissed or had sex with your toxic ex to your friends, or hiding the fact that having a massive crush on them is easy again. You see these are all easy secret to hide it from them, but being the boss to one of the most dangerous mafias that has ever existed sure is easy..right?

"Stop sleeping and get up you lazy ass." she says as she flicks my forehead, slowly opening my eyes to look over to my side only to see Nobara looking down at me with her hands crossed. "First of ouch..secondly why should I? I barely got sleep last night." I turn my back at her covering myself from head to toe with the blanke trying to fall back asleep, only to feel the cold air hit my body "Oh shut up it is not my fault you stayed with that damned phone all night plus we promised Shoko and Utahime that we would help them painting their house."

I groan in annoyance as i kick my feet to the mattress "Cant you just go alone and tell 'em that i got sick or something? Noba...I really dont wanna go i feel really tired." and with that guilt washed all over me seeing her looking at me with those disappointed eyes. Turning around to leave my room she stops at the doorstep "You know... oh forget it its not even worth saying you'll always make up excuses again." and with that i watch her leave my room only after a couple of seconds to hear the front door forcefully getting shut. I sigh as i get up from my bed sitting down and looking at the floor 'if only i could tell..if only...'

Truth is I was up all night trying to find the location of Ryomen Sukuna. An infamous mafia leader that has been wanted for years, searching for him is not that easy since...well lets just say he has his own old ways. I get up once again walking towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my little sincare morning routine and apply some light make up. I walk back to my room going towards my closet to grab a plain white crop top, some old sweatpants and a jacket. I grab my hat and sunglasses looking at myself once again in the mirror in my living room and then i head out.

___________________________________________

...Ring....Ring...Ring...

'Meet me at _____ in 20 minutes'

I look down to my watch only to see more than 20 minutes have passed "Where the hell is he? Whats taking him so long?". As im about to pull out the flip phone to call him he appears, only to see him breathing heavily with sweat dripping down his forehead to his neck. "Jesus fucking Christ were the hell where you that you had to run." I watch him sit down on of the empty chairs in the room as he waves at me away with his hand, only for me to chuckle at his action. "You literally called a last minute meeting in the middle of fucking NOWHERE and on top of THAT ITS ON THE 50TH FUCKING FLOOR and MIND YOU the elevator does NOT work." I laugh at his sudden tantrum as at the same time I make myself comfortable on the chair that is on the opposite direction of him "Damn it sure is pleasing to see a quiet person throw a whole tantrum about some stairs." He shot at me a death glare as i simply chuckle it away... "Now let's begin shall we..."

After 'bout an hour or so we both grunt to the feeling of disappointment. "This is just so frustrating I FUCKING HATE HIM!" and within seconds the chair has ended up on the other side of the room. He just looks at me unamused as he slightly rolls his eyes "Calm down." thats the only sentence that comes out of his mouth 'damn he went quiet again..' i thought to myself. I go over where the chair is grabing it and bring it close to the table and sit on it. "You know this is just hell for me we will never going to find him or the last remaining antique."

I place my head on the table as i sigh deeply, only to feel big hands on my shoulders to slowly massage them.He looks down at my exposed neck, leaning down to it close to my ear only to whisper.. "Calm down." ...again. He softly pecks the back of my neck as I lean in on his touch of his softly lips, I sigh once again and lean back up to push him away slowly. "Let's just call it a day its already 2pm I need to get back." He crosses his arms as he looks down at me with a raised eyebrow "something happened?". I turn around to look at him with a slight pouty face "Nobara got mad at me again because i bailed on our plans...again and Shoko and Utahime are also probably mad at me too." He just stares at me for a couple of seconds and just shakes his head, "Go ill take care of everything."

My face lits up and i go over to him on tip toes to give him a big hug "You are the best, this is why you are my right hand man." and with that i quickly get out of the room and make my way towards Shoko's house.

...Ring...Ring...Ring...Ring...

'The number you have called is not available at th-'

'sigh...what have i done'

As im walking down the street i notice a bakery, thinking to myself 'since i made them mad i might as well make it up to them'.I go into the shop and look around only to leave the shop with a bunch of sweets in my hands, "Damn they sure will love this..specially Satoru." i chuckle to myself and make my way again towards the house. Walking in narrow alleys sure its a bit scary when you're alone but its even scarier when someone is following, and by someone meaning an enemy.

I cut out routes passing through old buildings, in order for him not to follow me to my friends house I quickly make my way towards and old looking house getting and setting the bags down. I hide behind a wall waiting for him to get lured by my trap and once they are in i quietly and quickly headlock him placing a hand over their mouth. He grabs me by the hands and rolls me over to the ground taking a knife out he tries to knife me in the heart but i quickly roll over, get up and forcefully kick the knife out of his hand with my leg. I grab it and place it over his neck, slowly walking forward for him only to walk backwards, "Who are you and who sent you?" getting amuzed by his scared face, pale face and cold sweat dripping down his forehead.."P-please s-spare m-" ..i give him a smile and with that i slice his neck.

I watch him fall down, gagging trying to get some air only for him to fail as he stops breathing after a couple of minutes. I crouch down at him and grab his shirt to clean the knife. "This is what happens when you dont answer the correct questions that you are being told..now shall we send your boss a quick message?". I cut his shirt off with the knife and i start carving on his body.

'I'll find you'

I clean the knife once again and place it in my pocket making sure to dispose it later. I grab the bags and making my way towards the house once and for good.

After twenty minutes or so i finally arrive at Shoko's house, anxiety slowly building up on my stomach prepared to be yelled at, well...mostly from Utahime. I knock on the door tree time making a quick pause then knocking again two times. The door opens only to be revealed by-

"Utaa...heyy nice to see you" she gave me a glare that sent shiver down my spine "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU Y/N I THOUGHT WE PLANED TO-" "i bought sweets" I tell her as i shove the boxes to her face making her to hold them. I get in the house closing the door behind me as I look around taking a big sniff to smell the freshly painted living room. I take my shoes off as i make myself comfortable around "This is a nice apartment i love it" "Thanks took a while to find a nice place like this" Shoko say and as per usual her cigarette never leaving her mouth. I sit down to the floor as the rest of them follow my lead sitting down making a circle.

Utahime places the opened boxes of sweets in the middle so anyone can take as much as they want. "Never thought you'd drop by, your always so "busy" for us and you never stay even if you do its for a short period of time" Nobara says to me while she its a cookie. I drop my head low smiling knowing that those words dont only hurt me but her and the rest of group. "Well-.." "Well what? You always cancel on us saying your vusy yet you never tell us with what, you're always so "mysterious and all that" you weren't like that" Geto says as he cut me off not letting me say a single word. My heart feels shattered I've been so focused of finding Sukuna that i forgot that i also gad a normal life to live and friends that actually do wanna be in my life.

I bring my head up high and give a soft smile "Im sorry I truly am I've been busy with work so much, that I've forgotten about reality, I've working double shifts and I've also work late night shifts so its-" "Don't even worry about that" Gojo says to me while wrapping a hand around my shoulder, looking down at me while giving me a soft smile "We just want you to be happy and healthy nothing else if you need us we will always be by your side" I smile at his kind words as i shove him away while giving him a slap on the shoulder "You corny bitch dont talk to me all lovely like that you just saying that because i got sweets" they all chuckle and giggle at the remark as they all agree with me.

It is nice being like this with everyone I feel like Im finally free like there is nothing stopping me for being with my loved ones...

___________________________________________

Looking down at the the body he laughs hysterical as he takes a picture. "I'll find you huh...adorable." He places his phone back into his pocket and calls out his man telling them to dispose the body. He gets in the backseats of the car telling the drive to drive off. Pulling his phone out he looks at the picture once again chuckling to himself.. "Boss will be entertained with this"