#anyway i asked to bone one time before i died and he said no and i was like yeah thats fair we just met and im missing teeth

[pizzopaps]

had a bad dream : )

[kaidasdesires]

"You should be scared."

☾ pairing: dom! incubus yeonjun x sub! human afab reader

☾ rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

☾ wc: 6.9k

☾ content warnings: somnophilia, yeonjun is a demon/incubus, dubious consent into full consent as the story progresses, shape-shifting, choking, hair pulling, yeonjun has a knot ♡, mentions of killing and death, knife/blood play if you squint, pet names, cursing, reader almost dies, slight size kink, yeonjun cries

TRIGGER WARNING: Some scenes may be triggering for survivors of SA. Please read at your own risk.

☾ summary: y/n meets Yeonjun at a club and goes home with him. Yeonjun is an incubus that has to have sex and cum to stay alive but if he's not careful he could kill his victims. including y/n.

One of these days you would stop going out on the weekdays but you found that going to the club kept a lot of negativity and anxiety off your mind when things were stressful. You had a few drinks and could already feel yourself getting a bit tipsy but that didn’t stop you from having a good time. You were sitting at the bar when your friend Wooyoung (obviously wasted) pulled on your arm.

“Y/n, come on.~ Come dance with me!” He whined, giving you his best puppy eyes. Wooyoung usually went with you wherever, but he would never turn down an opportunity to get drunk.

“For fucks sake Wooyoung” you laughed, “how are you this drunk already?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He smiled, poorly feigning innocence.

You shook your head in disbelief before following him onto the dance floor anyway. You danced with him despite his unsteady feet. You danced with him for a while, all your worries fading into nothingness as the music and movement melted away the tension from your body. Or at least that’s how it was until Wooyoung lost his balance and fell into you.

You stumbled backward running into other bodies on your way down. It wouldn’t have been as bad, but as soon as your butt hit the ground, you felt like it was raining. Lukewarm, sticky, smelly rain. Someone had spilled their alcohol on you as a result of you knocking into them. You heard cussing above you but when you looked up Wooyoung was nowhere to be found.

 “Hah. Of course, he's gone.” You scoffed shaking your head before bracing yourself to get up and also to face the embarrassment of the situation you were in.

“You okay?” You heard from above you. The deep voice sent a chill down your spine. You looked back up, meeting the brown eyes of a boy you’d never seen before. You felt your cheeks become rosy as you looked over his features. Brown eyes that seemed to have a hint of red to them, messy black hair that was a little bit sweaty. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into his pants with a few buttons undone, exposing his collar bones, and black dress pants with a skinny belt. Not to mention the smirk plastered on his face as he watched you stare at him. He waited for you to respond with his hand outstretched. 

“Oh, thank you. Sorry if I hit you.” You said quietly, taking his hand. You were surprised by how gentle he was as he helped you up. He smiled down at you and your heart clenched. He was a good bit taller than you, and his hands were so much bigger than yours. Not to mention how incredibly handsome he was.

“You didn’t. But I saw your friend run off, so I figured you’d need some company now.” He chuckled. “What’s your name?” The boy asked his gentle eyes looking you up and down. 

“I'm y/n,” you responded. Typically you didn't give random boys the time of day, but this one had piqued your interest. Something about his aura maybe? 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Yeonjun.” he paused before continuing, motioning to your clothes, “You are covered in someone else's beer, can I take you to get some fresh clothes?” 

You had somehow forgotten that you were covered in alcohol. Now the stickiness was a lot more obvious. “Oh…” you hesitated. Yeonjun however didn’t give you time to think before chuckling, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the crowd and towards the door. Normally you would be pulling away, but there was something about this boy that was… magnetic. You didn’t mind letting him tug you away, besides, Wooyoung had left you alone anyway. He would just have to suffer the consequences of his own actions.

Once you had made it outside the bar, Yeonjun sighed, taking in a breath of the cool air outside. “That’s better. It was too fucking loud and hot in there.” he laughed. 

“Right? Well thank you Yeonjun, I should probably catch a taxi home now so I can get cleaned up.” You also sighed, but instead of in relief, it was in frustration. You felt for your wallet in your back pocket. Yeonjun watched as you let your arms fall beside you. “It’s gone…” you mumbled. 

Yeonjun faked a frown as he pushed your wallet deeper into his back pocket, but then quickly perked up. “You can just come to my apartment. I know you don’t know me and this is probably a huge red flag but I’m not up to any fuck boy shit. I promise.” He said, holding out a pinky to you. 

You snorted. Everything told you to run away. This was a bad idea. It was dangerous and definitely a red flag. But you couldn’t help it. For some reason, you didn’t want him to leave. Yeonjun felt trustworthy, and maybe a little bit addictive. You intertwined your pinky with him, completing the promise. “Only if you promise you’re not kidnapping me.” 

“I promise.” You saw that red shimmer in his eyes again as he took your hand. You walked with Yeonjun for a little while before your feet started to cramp up from the heels you were wearing. Once Yeonjun noticed your pace slowing down, he quickly turned around and lifted you off the ground. You gasped at the suddenness as well as how easy it seemed for him to lift you. 

“Don’t worry. Just rest. I can carry you the rest of the way. It’s only a couple blocks.” He said reassuring you. 

You nodded. His scent pulled you in closer as you leaned against his chest. You closed your eyes and let yourself be overcome by his warmth and smell. There was just something about him that made you want to stay close to him. You were so drawn to him in a way you’d never been drawn to anyone before.

You must have dozed off momentarily, but you were quickly awoken by Yeonjun’s gentle but slightly out-of-breath voice. “Y/n,~ I’m sorry I would carry you into the house but I have to open the door.” 

You opened your eyes only to be met by a cute pout. He must have genuinely felt bad for having to put you down. He lowered you gently back onto your feet before opening the door and letting you walk inside first. His apartment was small, a little bit disorganized but clean. 

“Here I’ll grab you some clothes and put them in the bathroom for you. Then you can wash up if you want to.” Yeonjun said as he took off his shoes and then walked to his bedroom. 

You watched as he came out of his bedroom with some folded clothes in his hands as well as a towel or two. Then he stepped out of the bathroom again before motioning that the bathroom was now yours. 

“If the clothes are uncomfortable or don’t fit right just let me know and I’ll grab you something else!” He smiled as he walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

You gave him a nod and responded, “Thank you Yeonjun, you didn’t have to do this.” Before heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You locked the bathroom door of course because this guy was still someone you didn’t know + taking a shower + being naked + the unlocked door just didn’t feel quite right.

But after you locked the door, you allowed yourself to relax a bit, using the restroom and starting the shower before peeling off your sticky beer-covered clothes. You hopped into the shower and let the hot water caress your skin. It felt nice. You didn't bother to wash your hair but you did use Yeonjun’s body wash to clean off your body. The smell of his body wash was nice, not too manly but not girly either. After letting your muscles relax in the hot water for a bit you eventually decided it was time to get out of the shower. You noticed that Yeonjun’s towels were nice, they seemed high quality as you dried yourself off. Then you finally picked up the clothes he had brought for you. A big white t-shirt with some sort of logo on the front, and some sweatpants. You slipped the clothes on, not able to wear your beer-soaked bra, and ultimately forced yourself to put back on your sweaty panties. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked comfortable and cute. Your cheeks were pink from hot water and the clothes stuck to your damp body. Your nipples are easy to see in the shirt but you shrug it off, being a man you’re sure Yeonjun probably wouldn’t mind the free view. You decide to tie your hair up into a ponytail to complete the comfortable look before unlocking the door and stepping into the hallway. When you walk back into the living room you find Yeonjun in the kitchen cooking some eggs and toast. He turned around at the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

He hummed contently with a raised eyebrow as he looked you up in down in his clothes. “You look cute.” 

“Thank you.” You responded, feeling a little bit shy before joining him in the kitchen. 

It was quiet for a little bit while he cooked food for himself and you. You took a second to admire him, he was still in the button-down shirt but it was much more open and now he was wearing dark sweatpants. His figure was quite enjoyable to look at, his slender waist easy to see with his shirt tucked in. 

Eventually, he finished cooking and handed you a plate of scrambled eggs and some toast along with a glass of wine. “Here, I figured you might be hungry but if you’re not that’s okay!“ he said with a smile. 

“You’re so kind Yeonjun.” You replied before taking a few bites. The two of you sat and ate together while chit-chatting and getting to know each other a little better. After a while, you felt the wine turning your cheeks pink. 

“Do you… want to watch a movie with me?” Yeonjun smiled, cleaning up the table. “If not, I can take you home.” 

“I’m definitely not letting you take me home, you’ve been drinking too, stupid.” You said with crossed arms as you headed over to his couch. He chuckled before joining you in the living room. As he approached you, you could really see how nice his figure was, including the tent in his sweatpants. You quickly looked up after realizing you definitely had been staring for too long and met his eyes. There was that stupid smirk again. Had he seen you checking him out like that? If he did he definitely didn’t say anything. 

He sat beside you and that’s when you realized how much bigger he was than you. His hands were twice the size of yours, he was much taller than you, and his arms and thighs were muscular and toned. For a moment you wondered what other parts of him were muscular or big. You shook the thought off quickly embarrassed at yourself for even going there. But you couldn’t help but bite your lip as he put his arm around you. 

You could feel your skin light on fire as he pulled you against him. The sudden proximity warmed you to the core. You swore you’d never been so interested in someone like this before but you couldn’t understand what made him so different. He turned on the TV and put on a movie. You had a hard time concentrating on the movie though. Between the unprovoked lewd thoughts and the fact that you were exhausted, after a while you found yourself dozing off on him. Yeonjun was warm and he felt safe even though you had just met him. 

Yeonjun watched as your body began to go limp in his arms. He wasn’t surprised that he had taken control over you this easily but still, it amused him to watch as your head fell into his lap. He leaned his head back and tried to calm himself. He wasn’t usually like this but he hadn’t had sex in months and if he didn’t soon he was going to become sick and unable to control himself. He would become dangerous to those around him.

He was hesitant because of what happened last time. He was afraid of hurting or killing anyone. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He really didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. Maybe if he was quick you wouldn’t wake up and you wouldn’t get hurt. He knew he could keep you sleeping for a while as long as he maintained focus. 

Your head was sitting in his lap now. He adjusted how he was sitting but that didn’t help much because now he could feel the blood starting to pulsate into his cock. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled.

He looked down and watched as the tent in his pants grew. Your warm breath tingled against the head of his cock through his pants which caused him to thrust up against your face unintentionally. You didn’t respond, but you let out a little whine which only made things worse for Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun felt his body heating up. It’s not like he could just get himself off and be done, he needed this to stay alive. His cock only continued to grow, the head now rubbing against your unsuspecting lips through his sweatpants. 

He gently rested a hand on your head holding it in place as he began to slowly rut against your face. The drag of his sweatpants against his skin stimulated him in a way that only made him hotter. He continued this for a minute, watching your innocent features as you slept in his lap. This only aroused him more and more. He knew this was wrong, but he didn’t have a choice.

He clenched his jaw before carefully pulling down his sweatpants. His length sprang out just perfectly rubbing across your lips leaving a string of precum connecting to the head. 

“Oh fuck.” He cursed. The image in front of him was unholy like him. He ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but you were so beautiful and he couldn’t help it. Something like this was inevitable.

With one hand Yeonjun pinched your cheeks which parted your lips and with the other, he pushed down on your head gently until he was able to push the tip into your mouth. 

He paused, the heat and wetness of your mouth making his head spin. All he had to do was keep himself calm and not lose it. If he could just cum once he’d be able to deal with it for now. He needed to cum and to have sex to feed, to stay alive, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. It was a difficult cycle. He loathed it.  

He took a shakey breath before pushing himself further into your mouth. Right now, since he was calm and fully human Yeonjun’s cock was only about 6 inches and was a normal width so he was able to push himself father into your mouth without any issues. 

While the younger boy fucked into your sleeping mouth, he let his free hand wander around your body. He let his hand crawl under your top and his fingertips kneaded your skin. 

Yeonjun thrusted deeper and he could feel your gag reflex kicking in on its own as well as small whines signaling that you were starting to wake up. He sped up, not close enough yet to cum. 

“Shit.” He thought. He had taken too long and you were starting to wake up from the dream he had put you in. He was going to have to use a different approach…

You were having the most erotic dream when the constant motion against your skin started to awaken you. You felt like you were drooling and having to work harder to breathe. You felt hot and aroused but it had to be because of the dream. That’s when you remembered where you had been. You had fallen asleep in a stranger's lap. 

When your eyes started to flutter open everything was spinning. You were no longer lying down but instead, you were sitting up with something hard pressed against your back. It was dark except for maybe one lamp, but you were in a room you didn’t recognize. 

That’s when you realized there was something in your mouth. A hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head upwards. Your eyes met his, but they weren’t the same as before. Yeonjun. His eyes a dark burgundy color now.

“Hi there little bun. Be good for me and don’t move okay?” His voice cooed into your ears. 

You started to panic slightly when you finally felt his hips move and then you realized that his cock was in your mouth and that’s why you were dreaming the way you had been. 

He started thrusting quickly without much warning causing you to grab onto his thighs as you gagged. 

“You’re such a good girl. Taking my cock so well. Open up wide for me honey, I’m not going to hurt you.” He said while rubbing your head. His voice was as sweet as honey and the tender motion of his hands running through your hair with his words somehow melted into your brain easing your anxiety. You felt dizzy with lust. That was because of your dream right? 

He pets you a few more times before pushing your head back against the wall. His cock was sliding deeper and deeper into your throat as your spit continued to build. You started gagging more and more which began to pull you out of your daze. 

You started to panic adrenaline fighting against Yeonjun’s mental abilities. The rush caused you to start pushing against his thighs again, a sudden subconscious act of fight or flight.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe at all. Yeonjun had pinched your nose closed completely blocking you from breathing. 

“Don’t worry little bun, I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you, just trust me.” He said as he continued to keep you from breathing. 

However, now you weren’t gagging, he was pushing his cock all the way down your throat and your head was spinning. Although you were nervous and scared, you still trusted the younger boy. Suddenly, your hands felt heavy and weak so you let them fall to your side, no longer an obstacle for Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun continued to thrust into your throat sharply, the lack of oxygen to your brain was making you dizzy. You felt so weak and fuzzy. You weren’t gagging anymore but your body subconsciously started trying to gasp for air, your throat spasming around Yeonjun’s cock. You heard the younger boy curse above you before he pushed himself all the way in his body shaking slightly. You could feel his cock pulsing as he came down your throat. You looked up at him as your vision started to become spotty, you could have sworn this was a dream too because of the shadows coming up from the boy's back and how the pupils of his eyes were almost glowing and red. His cum was hot and the feeling distracted you from the fact that you were starting to black out. 

When you started to become conscious again, everything was still dark. You were lying down, it was warm and you felt a pressure behind you. You blinked a few times before you realized Yeonjun was spooning you. Your jaw was a bit sore, there’s no way everything that just happened wasn’t a dream right? You must have just clenched your jaw from the vivid dreams you were having.

You thought you could hear Yeonjun lightly snoring behind you which made you question yourself even more.

The larger boy adjusted and suddenly you could feel pressure from behind. You blushed. His cock was pushing against your clothed ass. His cock was hard, you could feel that it was throbbing and this made a chill go down your spine. You wanted more.

Yeonjun adjusted again, this time wrapping his arm around your waist and his face was near your shoulder. His breaths were heavy and even, so you were almost certain he was asleep. That was.. until you began to feel his hips rolling against you. His cock pushed against you, slightly dragging with the motion. 

You couldn’t move, you were so flustered by his actions you couldn’t help but want to see what would happen also, why were your limbs so fucking heavy. He continued rolling his hips gently for a few minutes. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter with every passing second, you wanted more than this. 

You bit your lip before slowly starting to pull the sweatpants you were wearing off. Since they were too big for you they slid off easily but you still moved with hesitation for fear of waking Yeonjun up. After another minute of gentle thrusting, you lifted your ass slightly and held your legs apart. With another thrust, Yeonjun’s cock slid down to underneath your ass and with this next thrust, his cock slid between your thighs against your clothed pussy. You gently let your legs fall back together and covered your mouth as the boy now thrusts against your heat. 

You felt dizzy with lust, your mind was racing yet only focused on what was happening behind you. The sweat made for a good lubricant between your thighs and you could feel Yeonjun’s cock growing harder. Yeonjun’s breath was hot against your neck. 

The thrusting continued against your heat until you felt your thighs slick with sweat and precum. You whined quietly, your mind was hazy and your pussy was throbbing. You wanted more but you also didn’t want to wake him. 

“Do you want me that bad princess?” You heard a voice but the voice was in your head? You shook your head a bit thinking you were literally losing it. “My previous actions weren’t enough for you? Are you that desperate?” The voice again. But that’s when everything started to change. 

“Do you know what you’re messing with Angel?” The voice spoke once more in your head. You felt Yeonjun’s body shift and you jumped as you felt sharpness digging into you where his hand was around your waist. A knife?

You’re body and mind were conflicted, fear pulsed through your body at the sudden change in mood but you couldn’t help but push back against Yeonjun’s cock which you swore had gotten bigger than when it was in your mouth. Wait but that was a dream? This is a nightmare, right? It was time to wake up. 

You shook your head again and pinched yourself. This earned you a deep chuckle from behind. “No use love. You’re mine now, but what happens next is in your hands.” The voice in your head again. 

“Yeonjun…” you spoke out loud the following words sounding ridiculous as they left your mouth, ���What is going on? Is that you.. in my head?”

“Mmm… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I couldn’t. It was much too risky. I’m an incubus, and you are my prey but.. I have no intentions of hurting you as long as you can handle it.” Yeonjun spoke aloud now, his breath tickling your ear. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as your flight or fight kicked in once more. “h-handle it?” You stuttered.

In a sudden movement, yeonjun had flipped you to where you were on your stomach and he was pressed on top of you. His cock still rubbing against your heat. The younger boy put his hands where you could see them and you watched in horror as his fingers shifted into slender claws. He lifted a hand to graze a claw against your neck. Their sharpness a likened to a brand new razor. You didn’t dare to move.

“Do you think you can handle me, princess?” He paused, “If you can’t, you don’t have to be afraid, I’ll make it quick and easy and you’ll never feel pain ever again. But if you can…. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He whispered into your ear kissing it a few times sending shivers down your spine. 

You didn’t have a chance to answer before Yeonjun flipped you over and pinned you down his claws tearing into the sheets like little knives. Your heart and mind were racing unsure whether you were more fascinated or frightened by the scene in front of you. You watched as small dark black horns grew from his head and then he grimaced as dark bat-like wings came out from behind his back and lastly a whiplike tail with a spade on the end. You were horrified truly but despite the insanity of the situation you were in you tried to focus on the boy's face. You watched his face as the changes in his body caused him agony. You could tell he didn't want to be like this, not when it hurt him so much. You wanted to hug him, do anything to ease his pain.  

When his eyes finally met yours again they were still the deep burgundy color. He smirked once more as he watched the tears trickle down your cheeks. Fear had pulled them unwillingly from your eyes despite how you wanted to appear brave. He pulled a hand back and wrapped it around your throat once more. You whined and then realized still hadn't answered him. 

You reached up and ran a hand through his tousled hair and then over one of his horns. “You won’t hurt me Yeonjun. You don’t want to.” You managed to choke out as his hand tightened on your throat. You were sure that his next move would have been to kill you if you didn't speak up.

He seemed surprised at your response. His hand loosened slightly and his eyebrow picked up in curiosity. “You’re not afraid?” He said. 

“Of course I’m afraid. This is possibly the worst nightmare I've ever had but… Yeonjun, if you wanted to kill me you would have done it already, and besides…" you paused, "I really really… want you right now.” You replied, still aware of how his body was pressed against yours and how wet you were. 

Yeonjun’s cock throbbed at your words. He hadn’t really ever experienced this. Usually, when his prey woke up early he would just kill them. They usually woke up screaming or crying. The fear in their eyes was unbearable for him. He hated to see people be so afraid of him. He didn’t like killing people either. Many times Yeonjun had wished one of his prey would have had the means to kill him so he wouldn't have to do this anymore.  

Yeonjun sat back, releasing his hand fully from your throat and you watched as his tail came up and slid underneath your shirt. It was cold against your burning skin. The spade traveled all the way up to your neck before coming back down in fast motion ripping your shirt cleanly into two with zero resistance. You jumped as the spade cut you slightly across your chest on the way out. You were now exposed to yeonjun. 

Yeonjun watched for a moment as the blood trickled down your bare chest. He was also taking the time to admire your bare torso. Then he leaned down and licked from your belly button up to your neck, stopping to lick up the blood from your skin. When he got to your neck he kissed gently, eliciting a quiet whimper from you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair again and tugging gently near the base of his horns. Yeonjun growled at this, continuing to kiss and suck beautiful bruises on your neck. Your head spun as he licked against the shell of your ear before coming back down to lick at your erect nipples. He sucked at one and then the other, only causing your pussy to throb with every slight move. 

You grabbed at his shirt wanting to be able to feel his skin against yours. The younger boy simply just tore his shirt open from the front before using his tail to pull it off of his wings. You ran your fingers down his chest surprised to find numerous scars, some more fresh than others, and black marks like tattoos all across his pale skin. 

He watched you patiently as you took in his features. “You should be scared of me.” He said quietly, glancing down at his own scars being reminded of the many atrocities he had experienced and caused. 

You looked back at him with a small smile. “I’m not afraid Yeonjun. You're beautiful” you responded, tracing a scar with your fingers. Yeonjun nodded before smirking once more. “Well, not yet you’re not princess.” 

You lifted an eyebrow but before you could question him, Yeonjun was pulling down your panties. You blushed now being fully exposed to him so quickly. 

Yeonjun licked his lips as he realized how wet you were for him. “Ah… darling… did you perhaps want this all along hmm?” he said as he ran his claws down your thighs scratching them but not enough to draw blood. “Pretty girl.” He cooed, pulling your panties all the way off. 

You turned your head away slightly embarrassed at the situation. Yeonjun wasn’t able to use his hands to finger you, so instead he opted for his tongue, pulling your legs apart to kiss and lick at your heat. You moaned at his actions, clutching at the sheets because of the sudden pleasure of friction against your clit. He licked you fully, including using his tongue to push into you slightly which felt so good that you reached down to push his head down more. Yeonjun seemed to enjoy this slight dynamic change, licking at you like you were the only meal he had had all day. 

After a few minutes of this, Yeonjun came back up to face you. He licked his lips again. This time you caught a glimpse of his elongated canines. 

Yeonjun leaned into you, wrapping his arms around you suddenly. He was holding you as if he didn't want to let go. You felt him begin to rut against you again. His cock was still unbelievably hard. “y/n.” He panted “I won’t be able to stop once I start. You have to trust me if things become… frightening.” 

You nodded, rubbing his arms in reassurance. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say but there wasn’t anything you could do about it now and the truth is, you didn't want him to stop anyway.

Yeonjun sat back up and began to pull down his pants. You desperately wanted to see what you hadn't yet been able to see. You were sure his cock was just as pretty as he was. You watched curiously until the lights began to flicker. Just as his length was about to come into your view everything went pitch black and you could feel as Yeonjun pushed his bare cock against your heat. You whined and the younger boy groaned both of you finally feeling the relief of skin-to-skin contact.

He continued this for a moment making sure to lubricate himself with your wetness before you felt the tip of his cock pushing at your entrance. He pushed in slowly at that’s when you realized something was different. The head of his cock was slender and more pointy than normal and as he pushed into you you could feel bumps and ridges that were more than just veins along the sides of his cock. This was curious to you but it felt much better than normal.

He was going slow but still, you felt so full already. You heard him moaning quietly above you as he bottomed out. You whined at the stretch. It didn't hurt but it was enough to leave you wanting just a little bit more.

The lights flickered back on but everything was dimmer than before. You met Yeonjun’s eyes and without notice, he began fucking into you. He wasn’t being rough yet, but the bumps on his cock rubbed the inside of you in ways you had never felt before. You couldn’t help yourself from letting out quiet moans as his cock slid in and out of you easily.

The younger boy leaned into your neck again as he fucked you. “God fuck. You’re so good, baby. Taking my cock so well.” He whispered into your ear. “Ah- yeonjun,” you moaned back, shuddering as his breath tickled your ear once again. 

He continued to fuck into you harshly but surprisingly it never really hurt. You felt full, hot and so much pleasure. You felt like you could cum at any second with one perfect stroke or one brush against your clit. You’d never felt anything like this and it felt so good. You wondered briefly if Yeonjun had any control over your pain and your pleasure.

Yeonjun pulled back after a moment to push your legs up. You squeaked at this sudden change and how much deeper it felt. You dug your fingernails into Yeonjun’s skin which elicited a slight growl of pleasure. 

His eyes were almost animalistic. Maybe this is what he had been talking about. That was until you felt a sudden throbbing in your heat. The throbbing was coming from his cock. For a moment you wondered if he was cumming?

The lights began to flicker again and you felt it as his cock pushed against your walls. His cock was growing, stretching you around double what it had been. It was overwhelming and a little bit painful. Your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and feelings you squeezed your eyes shut to dull the pain.

“Take it, princess.” He said with a devious smirk. “I’m not finished with you yet.” 

You whined at tears pricked at your eyes from the pain. It wasn’t overwhelming yet but it still hurt. But god you felt so full and the friction only made you hotter. You didn’t want him to stop, not that he would anyway. You just wanted more and more of him.

“Fuck.. Yeonjun” You cried, gripping the sheets around you unable to really reach him at the moment. 

He fucked into you aggressively. You could hear him panting as he thrust. You moaned as tears ran out of your eyes onto the pillow below. 

The younger boy reached down and wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling a whimper from you. This sudden intimate position caught you off guard. In return, you once again tugged on his hair. He groaned in pleasure. He had you basically folded in half pushing your physical boundaries to the edge. 

Yeonjun’s thrusts began to get shakey and you wondered if he was close now. You quickly lost sight of this question when you once again felt that you were becoming impossibly fuller except now this was only at the base of his cock and it was rubbing directly against your g-spot. 

“Fuck Yeonjun. I- I-“ you moaned as the feeling overwhelmed you. 

“There you go pretty.” He said, his voice dripping in lust. “Good girl.” 

Your head was spinning the sudden pleasure mixing with pain overwhelming you and orgasm approaching quickly.

“Yeonjunie- please. please I want to cum.” You whined, clawing at him desperately.

“Fuck, baby.” He said in response thrusting impossibly harder and faster. The sudden begging caught him off guard and encouraged him.

He grabbed a fist full of your hair before tugging harshly and in a deep raspy growl all he said was “Cum.” 

His knot pressed harshly into your g-spot along with his undeniable command causing you to see stars, waves of pleasure wrecking your body as your orgasm hit you. Your body was overstimulated and felt like it melting.

“Good girl.” was all you could process from above you as you came. Your tightening around him caused Yeonjun’s orgasm to come quickly after you. But in the heat of the moment, you grabbed the younger boy by the horns and pulled him in to kiss you. 

He kissed you roughly as he came, filling you up with his own heat. The feeling was euphoric, almost better than your orgasm. You still just wanted more despite being so full and wrecked. He continued to kiss you as you both came down slowly from your high. That was until he realized that you were no longer kissing him back. 

He pulled back quickly realizing his mistake. He looked at you in horror as you lay there limply. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Yeonjun said in a panic, fear running down his spine, “God fuck.” 

He had forgotten in a moment of weakness that kissing, especially along with sex, was the fastest way for an incubus to suck the life from its prey. And here you were, lying motionless in his arms.

He lifted your head and ran his fingers through your hair softly. “y/n, I’m sorry. I- I- didn’t mean to I swear.” Yeonjun began to cry, tears quickly running down his face. He didn’t want to be like the other ones. He didn’t want to hurt people. To kill people. He really didn’t want to hurt you. You were the only one who hadn’t been afraid of him. You were different. "I swear I didn't mean to. Please," he begged.

All you knew was that you had been kissing him when suddenly you felt very weak and felt yourself beginning to lose consciousness. Your head was throbbing and dizzy as you felt his tears dripping onto your face as he hung his head above yours. You could hear the younger boy sobbing quietly, strings of desperation slipping from his mouth. “Yeonjunie.” you managed to whisper out. “Please don’t cry.”

The younger boy lifted his head. “y/n?” He choked out between tears. 

You worked hard to get your eyes open, only to see the fully human boy once again. His hair was messy, his skin no longer scarred, no wings or tail, his face was red, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

He gently pulled you into his arms, both of you still naked and messy. He stroked your head as he continued to cry. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you please don’t be afraid of me.” You felt him trembling.

You let out a small huff of a laugh. “I’m not afraid yeonjun. I’m not afraid at all.” You replied as you placed a reassuring hand on his cheek and wiped his tears with your thumb. You stayed like this for a minute, Yeonjun must have been taking the time to calm himself down.

Yeonjun carefully picked you up and carried you back to the shower where this time he helped wash you and kept you standing. You still felt so weak but having him take care of you felt so good. You couldn't help but want to soak up every single moment of attention he was giving you.

He gave you water and carried you back to the bedroom before getting into bed with you and holding you close.

You reached up to play with his hair because you could tell he liked it before. Sure enough, his head leaned into your touch, following your hand in a silent cry for the much-needed comfort. But while cuddling into him you began to dose off. 

“I know we just met but… I hope you don’t plan on getting rid of me…” the younger boy said quietly. “Demons… we create really deep bonds you know… and nobody has ever not been afraid of me like that before.”

You weren't sure if Yeonjun had meant for you to hear him or not. But it didn't matter because you had no desire to leave.

You smiled and leaned up to kiss him once more. You held his face in your hands squishing his cheeks a bit. “I told you I’m not afraid Yeonjun. So now it’s your turn to not be afraid.” You said teasing him gently for his insecurity. 

You weren’t sure if you were under the spell of the young incubus or if what you were feeling right now was real or a dream but it didn’t matter. The handsome boy with fluffy hair or the demon with bat wings and horns, either way, you couldn’t help but smile as he held you closely. He nuzzled you before adjusting so your head was lying on his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of him rubbing your back. You decided that even if this was all a dream, it was one that you wanted to have again and again or never wake up from.

[infictionalwonderland]

hot physiotherapist | j.potter

SUMMARY, james has a rugby accident and has to take physiotherapy - he’s pretty down about, but all that depressions forgotten as soon as he sees you, his physiotherapist. why had he not done this sooner?

James Potter was miserable.

A very odd occurrence, although it did happen (evidently). He was pouting the whole way as Remus drove them to the physiotherapists, Sirius was giggling to himself in the backseat the whole time—Remus, ever the angel he was, tried to cheer James up by giving him complete control over the music in the car and even greeting him with his coffee order and a chocolate croissant.

James was still miserable.

“Have fun, darling boy!” Sirius chirped out the window as James got out of the car, “try not to break any bones on your way in. God forbid you need physiotherapy.”

He burst out into borderline manic cackles and fell down completely into the row of backseats, never one to wear his seatbelt as he hated being constricted—James glared with upmost venom and hatred at the backseat windows, Tarzan looking cunt.

“I hope everything goes well.” Remus’ voiced gently, shooting his boyfriend a blank stare even as he tried to stop his own amusement. “D’ya want me to fetch you any food or anything for you when you come out?”

“No. Thanks.”

Remus winced.

James was still miserable.

He trotted his way indoors, cursing inside his head at the shooting pains all up his back and his hips, with the largest pout there ever was he made his way over to the reception and told them who he was—why he was here, before behind asked to take a seat in one of the rooms where he would be joined shortly by the physiotherapist.

He sat, frowning at the large room with equipment and soft turquoise coloured walls for a short about of time and then the door opened.

And then his world stopped.

In you stepped. . your hair was tugged into a low ponytail, front strands out of the pony to frame your face. He had died, he was certain. Your skin looked so soft, the beaming white lights giving you the most heavenly glow, he was sure you were an actual angel. Your eyes gleamed beautifully, and he was lost in the exact shade of them—trying to pinpoint every little detail and speck of colour. Your lips were pulled into such a fucking lovely smile, he could’ve melted (he did melt). Even from where you stood in the door, he was greeted in the pleasant aroma of your perfume and he felt like he was floating.

Your mouth was open—oh my god he was missing an opportunity to hear your voice—wait, what had you been saying. Balls.

“Um—h—muhuh?”

Double balls.

Your beautiful smile didn’t even waver in the slightest, though, amusement weaved it’s way into your eyes and created a mesmerising pattern into your irises that he forever engraved into his memory.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter! My names Y/N and I’ll be your physiotherapist for the foreseeable future.” You grinned, walking closer to him, “Hopefully.”

Wha—was that flirting? No! You had said it in a normal tone, like Hi I hope I stay your physiotherapist because it is literally my job, James and I enjoy it. But—yeah, no. It was like that. You were so close to him now—so so much more beautiful up close, he didn’t think that was even humanly attainable.

“Yeah—i—I hope so too, ma’am.”

MA’AM?!

Somebody sedate me, he thought.

You didn’t seem thrown off or even slightly offended, or disgusted by him. Which was, good, really, really good.

Instead, you let out this little bubbly burst of laughter and fucking hell, James knew from that point he was gone and could never return. His eyes were probably comically wide and maybe in literal heart shapes but he could truly care less. He look at you in awe—your nose scrunched when you laughed, your eyes squinted and to James you just became even more perfect.

“Please, call me Y/N—Ma’am sounds overly American anyway—“

“Would you prefer Miss?”

I’m never leaving the house again.

You blinked.

He almost stumbled to his knees in apology though that would obviously only give you the impression he was more of a creep than you already thought he was—but—hold on. He watched, mouth falling open just slightly, as your cheeks flushed a very very pretty pink and your mouth formed into the cutest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.

He was definitely leaving the house again, and it was going to be to come here everyday.

“Just Y/N is fine, thank you for being so considerate though.” You laughed teasingly.

“Can I be upgraded to just James?”

“Oh? You don’t want to he called miss? Or Ma’am?” You grinned at him, white teeth glistening from under your full lips, cheeks turning a faint rosy shade under the strength of your grin and a strand of hair swooping in front of your eye. He was in love. “Or, Sir maybe?”

Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

James is one hundred percent that he would’ve fallen over fast first had he been standing and he’s never been more thankful he’s not. He can feel his cheeks turn red—his face heating up to an embarrassingly tomato red state at an embarrassingly quick rate.

“Nah—Ju—Just James, please.” He huffed out, moving the material of his shirt dramatically off his chest and fanning himself. “Is—um, is it hot in here or is just you? Me! Is it just me?!”

You smile at him, adorably crinkle eyed and slightly pink cheeked, looking every bit the goddess and the angel James already knew with certainty that you were.

James Potter was, as it turns out, no longer miserable.

In fact, he can’t wait for his next appointment.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

05 — THESE THINGS EAT AT YOUR BONES

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

You were seventeen when you enlisted.

Obviously, you had to lie about your age – just a year off, not a drastic difference. The recruiters wouldn’t care enough to double check, anyways. Anyone willing to join their forces was good enough in their books.

You’d been desperate, desperate for a sense of community, for a home, for something to occupy your time with.

Things hadn’t been easy after your mother had passed.

She’d raised you on her own; having taken you from your father before you could realise what a father was. Said he was a bad man, didn’t deserve an angel like yourself. Sometimes, you wished that you’d known him, or at least had a father figure to look up to.

That was rare, however. Your mother had done a great job in raising you – making sure you had morals and looked out for others. Always had a roof over your head, food made with love in your tummy.

It was only three months prior to your enlistment that she passed.

While you were at school, she was shot and killed in your childhood home. The day you walked through that front door, backpack a hefty weight on your shoulders, and saw her wide-eyed corpse on the living room carpet, was the day that a piece of you died.

That night, with the cool fabric of the paramedic’s shock blanket around your frame, you looked up what happens after you die with shaky, blood-stained hands. A question you hadn’t had to consider. Not until then.

The police wrote down your stilted words in their government-issued notepads, attempts of sympathy on their faces.

All you could focus on was the tap tap tap of your foot against the carpet, the chewed up flesh of your inner cheek, and the burning of your eyes.

You had, thankfully, managed a choked up explanation of what you’d seen.

“I came home. From school. She was just. There. On the carpet. Her eyes were open,” you managed to whisper, eyes remaining in your lap.

“How did you feel when you saw her?” The officer asked.

You had half the mind to ask him that very same question. You didn’t, of course.

“I felt that she deserved a better death than this. Sir.”

The time after that passed in quick, blurry memories. A hand on your shoulder here, a trauma nurse there, all the while your mind could only supply you with the image of the one person you had. Gone.

“Here.”

You’d looked up with bloodshot eyes and chapped lips. The man looked to be in his late forties, with greying hair and saggy features. In his hands was a steaming cup of tea – extended towards you. With trembling fingers, you took it from the man.

“Thank you,” you’d murmured, before blowing across the liquid with a soft breath. It rippled with the flowing air, tea leaves simmering on the bottom. If you looked hard enough, you could make out a tree.

“Is it alright if I join you?” He asked, gesturing to the chair in front of you. You nodded, and he moved to get comfortable in his seat, eyes remaining on you. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

That was, funnily enough, the first time you’d heard those words said to you. 

“I’m Herschel Shepherd,” the man supplied, with a small, comforting smile. He extended a weathered hand to you, and after a moment, you accepted it with a light shake. “I think I might know who’s responsible for your mother’s death.”

You swallowed. “What? Are you,” you worked your heavy tongue, “Are you in the FBI?”

He loosed a hearty chuckle at that, before shaking his head. “No, kid. I’m a bit higher up than that.”

You didn’t have it in you to push. Not then, not with the smell of blood a consistent rot in your nose. You just nodded, accepting that explanation, squeezing your hands together for comfort.

“There’s been some rumours,” Shepherd leaned his elbows against his knees, lowering himself to meet you at eye level. “Of a secret organisation, searching and killing those affiliated with the army. Especially those who served, and then ran.”

Your brows furrowed, mouth opening and closing around nothing. “What does this have to do. With anything – my mum, she wasn’t –”

“She was, kid,” Shepherd interrupted with a raised hand. “She was a renowned Lieutenant. Served for ten years.”

Tap tap tap, your foot goes.

“She would’ve told me,” you managed out, throat choking up and nostrils flaring. “She wouldn’t have hid that from me. I’d know. You’re lying.”

“She didn’t tell you to keep you safe,” he urged, resting his hand on your bouncing knee in comfort. “But… This is more than just her. This is an attack on our country, on you, kid. I’m investigating this group, their ideals, their plans. You can help.”

You shook your head adamantly. “No. This has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with you,” Shepherd immediately retorted, and you felt your chest caving in, your shoulders deflating. “It’s up to you. I hope to see you in my regiment, kid.”

Then, he’d stood, and dropped a card onto your lap. Without another word, he left.

It was later that night, when you found yourself near passing out, that you’d read his business card. It had his name, his title – Lieutenant General – and a regiment. You weren’t sure how any of it worked, if you could do this, if you were made for something like the army. That night, you’d studied and watched and learned everything you could about his regiment.

Three months later, you’d stood before him, gun in hand.

He just smiled, knowingly, and clapped a hand on your shoulder. He leaned down and whispered, “Together, we’ll avenge her.”

And you did, under his wing. You set things right.

*

Your ears ring, the bumps of the vehicle doing nothing to snap you out of your daze. It’s like your insides have turned inside out, every molecule of liquid evaporated with a single name.

“He’s a good man,” you manage to say, breaking the stunned silence of the 141. You don’t dare to look up, to see their expressions, their apprehension. “He saved me. Multiple times. He wouldn’t hurt anyone without a reason, he wouldn’t.”

Even as you say the words, try and plead, you find yourself losing faith. It’s a devastating thing, one that has you wanting to wretch your near-empty stomach.

“We did some digging,” Price murmurs, sounding sorrowful and almost guilty. “We found the truth.”

The entire time that Price retells the intel he and ‘Laswell’ found, you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into your pit of despair. Like you’re clawing with your nails to get out, yet all you’re finding is unrelenting stone, breaking the keratin with every scratch.

By the time that all the information has been told, your body feels as though it’s frozen. 

It isn’t until you feel a thumb wipe against your cheek that you realise you’re crying. Finally, finally, you look up, and meet Soap’s mirthful eyes. His thumb is rough where it wipes away your tears, gathering the salty liquid against the ridges of his fingertips.

Could it get worse than this? Worse than being told that the only other man in your life – the only other person you’d trusted – was a bad man? Working with Graves? How hadn’t you known? Why hadn’t Graves told you –

Why. Why. Why?

“He was the closest thing I had to a father,” you manage, feeling almost manic with it. “He – he and Graves, they’re all I have, I can’t, you can’t–”

You barely manage to open the small window before you’re hurling your empty guts, nothing coming out but air and some bile burning the back of your throat. Your throat, eyes, your entire body aches.

Two large hands rub at your back, and you can hear words being said, but you can’t understand them, can’t hear anything but a low buzz in the back of your mind. Your breath comes out in loud, sharp pants, and you can’t help but sniffle as tears roll down your cheeks and drip from your chin.

Your entire life has just been flipped on its head, and you can’t handle it. You are a Colonel, you’re supposed to be impenetrable, but this, this is everything you ever had. Gone with a few words, a single mission.

“It’s okay, lass, fuck,” you can finally make out Soap saying, recognising one of the hands as his. It’s an, admittedly, comforting weight, one that you find yourself leaning back into. “Steamin’ Jesus.”

“Kyle, do you have water?” Price calls out to the front, and soon, a hand directs your head to enter the van once more, an opened water bottle being pressed to your lips. Price holds it, his hand stroking the back of your neck in support. “Have a drink, darlin’,” he encourages, tilting your head back as you swallow the ice-cold water. “There we go,”he murmurs, his touch unrelenting.

“You good, love?” Gaz calls from the front, brows furrowed where he’s half-watching in the rearview mirror.

All you can give him is a small, weak nod, but he seems to accept it. 

Your mind is spinning at a mile per minute, shuddering when Price pulls the bottle away and Soap continues to rub your back in calming circles. This is, you think, the one time you’ll allow yourself to be comforted by them. This was already crossing too many of the boundaries you’d put up in your head, a clear violation of the separation you’d planned out.

Ghost, true to his name, remains still where he sits in front of you, calculating as he stares you down.

“What are the chances,” he begins, focus remaining on you even if everyone else’s is suddenly on him, “That General’s personal pet is also Graves’ girl who had a change of heart?”

“Si–” Soap begins, before Ghost cuts him off.

“How do we know she’s not a fuckin’ spy,” he spits out, glaring at you with everything he has, “And we’ve been too fuckin’ stupid to figure it out!”

You’re not in control of your body, at this point. Your emotions are.

With one breath, you pull out the blade hooked to your hollister, grip it in a fist, and grab the scruff of Ghost’s uniform and pull him close. Grabbing his hand, you slide the knife into it, grabbing his wrist, pulling it forward so the knife is pressed against your neck.

“Kill me,” you breathe, chest heaving, eyes burning with rage, “Kill me if you think I’m a spy. Slice the knife through my fucking throat, Lieutenant, do it.”

His irises are blown black, the white of his eyes stark against the grease paint smeared over his visible skin. You can feel his heavy breaths through his mask, brushing against your snarled lips. You pull him even closer, your fist unrelenting against the fabric of his uniform.

There’s an uproar around you, Soap yelling something to you both, Price trying to tug you away by his grip on your upper arm, Gaz trying to both focus on not crashing and whatever the hell is happening behind him.

You’re strong, however. Trained and built for hand-to-hand battle, and you don’t move an inch. Not when you’re so determined, so stubborn.

“Kill. Me.” You hiss, the words quiet enough to only be heard by the man holding a knife to your throat. You lean in closer, and you can feel a small trickle of blood fall down your bared neck, but it’s a thrilling type of pain.

“You’re a crazy bastard,” he spits back, but he notably eases the knife away from your skin. You just lean into it further, more blood being let. “If you keep tryna call bluffs like this, you’ll be sent home in a casket.”

“What home, Lieutenant?” You ask, almost desperate for his answer, a demand. You narrow your gaze, refusing to break eye contact. “If you can find where the fuck I belong, I’ll be happy to die within its walls.”

The two of you standoff, your eyes doing all the speaking, before Ghost allows the blade to fall from his grip, hitting the floor of the van with a clunk. “You win, Sweetheart,” he taunts, the words being breathed against your own mouth, mere millimetres apart. “Congratulations.”

You finally allow yourself to be pulled back, Soap shooting you a shell-shocked look, his jaw clenching as he looks between you both. Price finally eases his grip around your arm, barking, “Don’t pull that shit! One wrong move and –”

“My whole life has been one wrong move,” you grit out, falling back into your seat with shallow breaths. You drag your hand down your face, before resting against the sticky heat of your blood, pooling at the dip of your neck. “What’s one more?”

There’s no response. You don’t hope for one, don’t expect one, but it still leaves you unsteady. Unsure. Even when everyone just sits in an odd sort of limbo for a few minutes, you struggle to come down from that high, that overwhelming need for control.

“Here.” 

When you look up, it’s to see Soap, a medkit in his lap. Price is sitting on the other side next to Ghost, talking quietly to him, stern expressions displayed on them both. They seem lost in conversation – a serious one, considering your current situation.

“What’re you doing?” You find yourself asking, watching as he rips open an alcoholic wipe and takes it out, your leg bouncing. He gives you a friendly smile, this side of hopeful.

“Patchin’ ye up, Sweetheart. Goes both ways,” he explains, and your eyes go glassy once more. “Can aye fix ye up?”

You don’t trust your words, so you simply nod, tilting your head back. You find yourself rocked by the rhythm of Gaz’s driving, finding solace in the comfort of semi-safety. Although not as safe as you would’ve been at Graves’ base, there was a sense of… protectiveness that came with being with the 141.

Wincing, you grit your teeth as Soap cleans up the blood from your throat, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his bumbling, charismatic character. He’s precise, careful to not hurt you too much, delicate movements made by harsh hands.

“You sure do like playin’ with fire, lass,” he murmurs, swiping the last bits of drying blood from the hollow of your throat, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips.  “Can respect that.”

“I’m sorry for… that,” you sigh, watching as he deposits the used wipe into a hazard bag. Good practice, you think, prioritising avoiding any bloodborne diseases. You’re silently impressed. “Didn’t mean to lose my shit. Just. A lot.”

“I know,” he returns, earnest, opening a bottle of sanitary cream and swiping some onto his finger, bringing it to soothe over your small wound.

“I don’t know who to trust.”

Those words aren’t exactly good ones to say, not to a borderline enemy with his hands on your neck. But it feels like an otherworldly force makes you say them, makes you expose yourself even further to this man. Maybe a taunt, maybe a small punishment for saving his life.

He pauses, but quickly covers up his hesitation with returned fervour. “I don’t envy ya, hen. It’s an absolute shitshow. But…” he grabs some medical tape, cutting it to length to put over your wound. Apparently it’s worse than you’d thought. “Ye heard what happened. Shepherd, Graves, they’re not worthy of ya.”

That gives you pause. Worthy. What made someone worthy? What kind of clarifications?

Did he think he was worthy? Ghost? Price? Gaz?

“You think I’m better than the General?” You raise a brow, attempting to goad him, spark that flame of banter that always seemed to haunt the Scot.

“I know ye are. Seen it with my own eyes.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“We’re nearly back at the safehouse,” Gaz calls from the front, tapping his hands against the steering wheel to a silent rhythm. Price grunts out a reply, and Ghost remains silent, watching. Always watching.

Finishing up his quick first aid job, Soap tilts your head back down with a grip on your chin, his thumb stroking along your bottom lip. “There we go, Sweetheart. Good as new,” he whispers, the corner of his lips tilting into a kind grin.

“How’s the arm?” You find yourself asking, looking to the bandaged ligament. “Feeling alright?”

“Definitely better than if aye’d let it get infected,” he hums, looking down to his arm. “Once this blows over, nurses on base will sort it out.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but you realise that his thigh is pressed against yours, and your leg has stopped bouncing. No more tap tap tap. Just… the feel of fabric against your own, heated by the flesh underneath. The comforting touch of another human, not sexual, not for any reason but to simply… exist.

Ten minutes pass of comfortable silence between you both, before the vehicle comes to a stop, Gaz turning off the engine with a turn of his keys, unbuckling his seat belt and hopping out of the car.

“Out we get,” Price says to you all, gentler than he’d been before. The doors burst open, Gaz flinging the keys back to his Captain, urging the four of you to hop out and head in.

You’re the last to get out, Gaz extending a calloused hand for you to take, ever the gentleman. Accepting it, you jump down, looking to the awaiting men. The Los Vaqueros are rushing inside, talking amongst themselves, relief thick in their words, hands being slapped against each other’s backs.

Price is looking at you as he says, “I think we have a call to make.”

As it turns out, the call is to the last person on Earth you want to talk to right now. In the middle of the same table you’d stood beside Rudy at, mere hours ago, is a computer.

One with General Shepherd’s face on it.

Price had given you the mercy in deciding whether you’d show yourself or not. You still hadn’t made the choice, instead standing off to the side, Gaz and Soap at either side of you. Alejandro stands at the right of the table, and Ghost has his arms folded over his chest at the left.

“You hid this,” Price grips the table, livid, “Why.”

Not a question, not really, more of a command than anything. An order from a Captain.

Shepherd’s response has your blood running cold, reality finally cementing inside of yourself. You claw at your palms when he responds, drily, “We all keep secrets, Captain.”

And, oh, what a slap in the face that is.

“Why the hell wasn’t I informed?” Price snaps, his shoulders rising and falling with each barely restrained breath. He seems to fill out his uniform more than he had before, in the dim light of the room.

The boarded up window allows for a small sliver of sunset to cast against all of you, a small joy in the darkness of the safehouse. And the situation at hand.

“Consider yourself well informed now, John,” Shepherd’s tone lowers, more grating, forceful.

“Oh, that's really fuckin' helpful, General. Thank you. But you're a day late and a missile short. There's three of them – we only found two.”

“Then point yourself in that direction, and fix it,” Shepherd booms, and you can’t help the instinctual flinch of your body. You’d grown up being frightened of his raised voice, the threat that came along with it. Even in the safety of this house, you can’t help your response.

Price scoffs a laugh with no humour, his mouth falling into a grim, dangerous line. “And who fixes you, eh?”

You can hear, more than see, Shepherd’s returning snarl. “I don’t need fixing. I’m a patriot protecting my country.”

Gaz and Soap share a look above your head, but you don’t care, not now. Not when Price stands up, slamming his hand against the table, not when Alejandro curses under his breath.

Not when all you can think about is the empty promises Shepherd made.

“You’re protecting your own ass,” Price cusses, turning back to glare at the man on the screen.

“I do what needs to be done, and no one holds me down with a roll of red tape. I know what's best for the cause.”

Price chuckles, eyes a fire of fury, leaning down once more to the laptop. “You’ve lost your mind, General.”

“And you've forgotten what you're fighting for, John. To do good, you gotta do some bad. When we shit, we bury it, that's how it works,” Shepherd replies, hard and strong in his belief.

You’re at the verge of losing it.

“Yeah,” Price begins, before pointing his finger to the camera, “But we don’t bury each other with it, do we?”

“You need to turn off that side o' your head and face down the real enemy,” Shepherd warns, and it’s the final straw.

“Isn’t that what you told me, Herschel? That the organisation was the real enemy?” You quip, and for a minute, you wonder if he’s ended the call.

That is, until, a choked off voice filters in, “Kid?”

Rushing forward, you turn the laptop to face you, and your entire system seems to revolt as you see the man you once cared for like a father. 

“Tell me that you didn’t betray them,” you hiss, leaning in closer, your entire face filling the screen. “Tell me that you didn’t ruin lives – tell me you didn’t make a deal with my Commander behind my back. Tell me, Herschel.”

“You wouldn’t understand –” he begins, but that’s all you needed to know.

Stepping away, you give him a final, cold smile. “Was it worth it?”

“What –” he starts once more, before you grab the handle of your gun, pulling it up to rest as a comforting weight in your hand.

“Was it worth ruining my life? Was it worth ruining this mission?”

“You’re just a kid.”

“I am a Colonel!” You shout, emotions bubbling over as you slam the gun onto the table, eyes blazing. “And when I find you, you’re going to wish you never fucked me over. What was your favourite method? Flaying? Dismemberment?”

“You’ve always been too soft and easy to manipulate,” Shepherd snaps back, voice booming through the speakers.

Your voice is as dangerous as you’ve ever heard it.

“Immolation? That was your favourite, wasn’t it?”

His eyes widen on the screen, seeming to understand, to seemingly take you seriously. Too late. Too fucking late.

“Let’s see if it’s still your favourite when it’s your turn to be the victim,” you slowly say, annunciating every word with clear speech. “Thank you for your teachings, General.”

With that, you slam the laptop screen shut, and prepare to face the fire.

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee

author's note. im so hyped for all of the future plot points. and romance. ohmygod. yes, ghost does eventually come around. yes, he's the longest slow burn. yes, he's the most intense enemies to lovers. wbk. i also got covid so i have a lot of time to rot in bed and suffer while writing!! ALSOOO there is so much fire symbolism... ;)

your comments mean soso much to me, every time iread one i squeal and feel all excited!! thank u for ur support commenters, i DO read all of them. more than once. &lt;3

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! I saw your Percy Jackson asks where open and I wanted to send in a request! How would Percy react to a fem reader who is the child of Morpheus the God of dreams? Like I imagine being a child to the God of dreams would make one fall asleep randomly when they are still new to their powers, so how would the scenario play out if perhaps one day reader falls asleep on him during a movie night? Would he stay as still as possible as to not wake her up or would he do something else like gently wake her up/move her? Hopefully I made this detatiled enough but in anyway thank you!!

You were just halfway from dozing off when Percy’s voice brought you from the cusp of a deep sleep to ask:

‘Does your dad look like-‘

‘For the last time Percy no, my dad doesn’t look like Tom Sturridge from The Sandman.’ You replied before he could even finish his question. It wasn’t the first time he asked this question after watching the Netflix show ironically about a man who bore the same name as your godly father, Morpheus, the god of dreams; Something that you now had a bone to pick with Neil Gaiman over.

‘Sooo he doesn’t blow golden sand at people’s faces to make them fall asleep?’ Percy continued to ask but at this point you knew that he was only doing this just to get a rise out of you and also to keep you from falling asleep again.

‘No-will you pack it in, in trying to get some rest from today.’ You said as you lightly smack his arm whilst readjusting your head onto his shoulder for more comfort, already feeling the lull of sleep beckoning you to fall further when Percy once again spoke up.

‘But you already do enough sleeping as it is!’ He cried but tried his hardest not to move too much in fear of agitating you, knowing firsthand how much you hated your sleep being disrupted. ‘And I can’t help that!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’ve been falling asleep at random ever since Morpheus claimed me as his own. It’s almost as though I’ve suddenly developed narcolepsy or something.’ You were still getting use to your powers that for some reason would backfire now and then, causing you to have bouts of almost narcoleptic episodes where you could just be talking to someone then boom; there you were, fast asleep in the strawberry fields or on the sandy dunes of the lake as though it were the most comfortable place known to man.

It worried to everyone to begin with but upon being claimed, it started to make a lot more sense that whenever you did spontaneously fall asleep, it was easier to be accommodated for; letting you sleep because you were mad cranky when woken prematurely. Connor and Travis learnt that the hard way when for an entire week their dreams consisted of being chased by a very angry humanoid goose, as if being chased by a regular goose wasn’t scary enough. Just one of the few perks of being the child of the god who could morph dreams and enter them however he saw fit.

The subject of your tendency to fall asleep at random was soon dropped entirely as you and Percy went back to watching the movie that was already well within it’s third and final act. Well Percy was, you on the other hand…were fast asleep on his shoulder, uncaring of the crook in the neck that you were surly developing from your uncomfortable position. Percy doesn’t notice until he goes to look at you to make a joke on a certain scene but stopped and the words died on his lips as he stared at you adoringly. ‘Why am I not surprised that you’ve fell asleep. Again.’ He says softly to himself as he watched how your grip on his arm would occasionally tighten as though your dream had taken a tonal shift, only to loosen up and relax not a moment after.

Not that I needed my arm or my shoulder anyways. Percy thought to himself as he tried his absolute hardest to stay still for your benefit but he might as well have asked Medusa to make him into stone instead because he was doing such a shit job at not moving at all. It was almost as if all his limbs had minds of their own as they’d move or his fingers would tap against his thigh impatiently as the movie ended and the credits began to appear on screen; With the remote too far for him to reach without waking you up and nothing else to occupy his restless mind, Percy felt as though he was in his own personal hell and heaven, or fields of punishment and Elysium.

For one, he got to admire you as you slept, completely at peace and safe within his presence as you would oftentimes shuffle further into him, making noises of discontent when you thought you felt him move away and tightening your grip; Something he found undeniably adorable as he watched the twitches in your face and tries to guess what kind of dream you were having based off them. Secondly he desperately wanted to move, his brain was telling him to move, but Percy would rather not risk having an angry human sized goose chasing him in his dreams for the next week because he accidentally woke you prematurely from your nap. He knows you wouldn’t do that but in cases like these, it he’d know it be better to be safe and sure then expect special treatment; which upon retrospect sounded a lot worse then getting chased by a human sized goose.

So Percy allows himself the fate of being your makeshift pillow, though not before pressing a kiss to your head, wishing you the sweetest of dreams before inevitably falling asleep himself as he rested his head atop of yours, crook in his neck be damned.

[joekeeryswife]

Outbreak Day - J.M

a/n: hello angels! reader is 26 and pregnant and Joel is 36. there is a little twist 😵 best way to describe this imagine is that it’s sad, long and has a shitty ending lmfao. okay anyways, enjoy reading 🫶 please send me in some fluffy requests and some dad! joel requests too!!

big trigger warning this imagine is very gory and descriptive!

“Sarah honey, is that you?” you turned to look at the front door and saw your step daughter Sarah coming home from school. “hey mum” she said as she set her backpack down on the floor. “how was school?” you walked toward her and gave her a small hug and a kiss on her forehead.

“was good. got dads watch fixed but everyone acting weird, cops everywhere, shops closing early. i don’t know just weird” she said making your heart pound a little, you didn’t know why but hearing her say that scared you but you tried not to dwell on it too much. “yeah well it’s probably just people being stupid. we shouldn’t worry too much okay?” she nodded but then groaned making you frown.

“dad told the Adlers i’d go over there to help them make cookies” she sighed, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the Adlers it was just she wanted to spend time with you and her dad as it was his birthday. “look, go there for thirty minutes then say i need you home, i don’t mind you blaming me.” she smiled and thanked you.

“i was going to make your dad a cake but we don’t have the ingredients and i was too tired to go food shopping so he should be brining one home, he’s going to be home earlier today as well” her eyes lit up as you spoke “is it a chocolate cake?” she asked watching you nod. “i didn’t tell him it was because you have been craving one i told him it was because i was” Joel hated chocolate cake but for his girls he’d do anything to please them.

“thank you mum, you’re the best. i owe you one” she said as she turned to go out the front door again to the Adlers house. “no worries honey, if Mrs Adler bakes chocolate chip cookies please bring me one, the baby is craving them like mad” you said as you rubbed your growing stomach. she nodded and said her goodbyes before leaving to spend the worst 30 minutes of her life with the Adlers.

-♡-

“hey baby girl. how was school?” Joel asked as he finally got home, four hours later than expected. “you’re late” she said, completely ignoring his question as her eyes shifted from the TV to him. you had both been waiting for him on the sofa watching Harry Potter and you had fallen asleep not even halfway through the movie. being pregnant had made you extremely tired so it wasn’t a shock to Sarah when she saw you put a blanket over yourself and curl up into a ball on the sofa within the first 10 minutes of the movie playing.

“i know, im sorry. work has been crazy, guys calling in sick, it was just me, uncle Tommy and Dave in today. i meant to phone mum but my phone died” he said as he made his way over to the two of you. his heart melted when he saw you sleeping next to Sarah, you’d never looked cuter. “its fine, we had fun without you anyways” he lifted up your feet so he could sit between you both, careful to not wake you up in the process.

“did you at least get the cake?” she said shyly as Joel got comfortable on the sofa. “oh shit” he put his head in his hands “im sorry honey i completely forgot” she nodded, understanding that he obviously came straight home as soon as he finished work. “mum is probably gonna kill you. she wanted cookies earlier from the Adlers but they were making raisin instead of chocolate chip so i didn’t even bother asking if i could bring one home for her” Sarah said and Joel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other resting on your legs.

“i’ll get you guys a cake tomorrow, i promise it just completely slipped my mind” she shook her head, indicating that it was fine and she understood he was stressed. Joel felt you stir and you woke up, your hair all over the place and your bones cracking as you stretched from a very good nap. “hi baby” Joel said softly as you looked at him.

he unwrapped his arms from Sarah’s shoulders for a moment so he could give you a hug and a kiss. “i miss you so much” you said as you sat up so you could rest on him instead of the arm of the sofa. “i missed you too. how are you? how’s the baby?” you nodded, still half asleep.

“fine, kicking like crazy” you were only six months pregnant and your unborn daughter was already giving you a hard time. you rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around both you and Sarah, pulling you both into him. “did you bring home the cake?” you asked making him sigh “no, i’m sorry baby, i forgot” you shrugged, eyes closing again as you tried to fight sleep but it was no use.

“i love mum so much but she could have slept through world war 2 and not have been disturbed at all” she said making Joel laugh quietly, trying not to wake you up. to be fair, carrying this baby had knackered you out and he understood that you needed sleep but sometimes you would be halfway through a conversation with him when he got home from work and you’d be falling asleep whilst you were taking. “to be fair, you aren’t wrong there” he ran a hand through your hair gently as he admired you, you were stunning and he loved you so much.

“anyway, let’s try spend some time together tonight, let’s put on a good film, this is shit” Joel said making Sarah scoff and look at him “that is a lie. Harry Potter is the best” he shook his head. “take it back or you work get your present” she said making him gasp. “you wouldn’t dare do that” he said to her, making her give him the ‘try me’ face which made him quickly change his comment and apologise to her.

she grabbed the box off of the coffee table and handed it to him. he unwrapped his arm from her yet again to try open it with one hand without waking you up. he opened the box and saw his now fixed watched that had been broken for three months. “aww baby that’s so sweet, thank you” he kissed her forehead and tried to put the watch on but failed miserably making Sarah help him put it on. “okay now we can watch your stupid old film dad but don’t expect me to stay awake” she said as they both got comfortable again “i wouldn’t dream of it” he smiled at her.

-♡-

green and blue flashing light woke Sarah up from her sleep. she looked around the room confused, she had somehow ended up in her bedroom and didn’t hear any noise in the house. she sat up as she heard helicopters fly over the house and car alarms go off. she quickly got up calling out for Joel as she walked around the house but she only found you in bed asleep, no sign of Joel.

she felt awful waking you up but she had no other choice. she crept to the side of your bed and shook you awake. “mum, can you wake up please?” you jumped awake when you felt her hand on your shoulder. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” you asked but your question was answered when another helicopter flew over the house. “what the hell?” you said sitting up quickly.

you grabbed your phone which was on the bedside table but there was no service. “what’s happening?” Sarah asked as you quickly got dressed out of your pyjamas. you were going to go outside and you didn’t want your neighbours, if they were awake, to see you in your pyjamas so you put on a tracksuit before walking downstairs. “i don’t know baby”

you turned on the tv and heard the broadcast ‘stay home, do not let anyone into your house. we will post more instructions soon’ you frowned, what the fuck was happening? you checked your phone again, this time trying to phone anyone, your mum, your dad, your brother, Joel and nothing. no calls were going through.

the two of you jumped at the sound of Mercy, the Adlers dog barking at your front door. Sarah quickly put on her shoes and went outside to retrieve the dog and you quickly followed, slipping on your trainers. “Sarah i don’t think we should go outside yet. we should wait for your dad” but she ignored you. she walked outside, bringing Mercy with her to take him back home making you follow after her as quick as you could.

“Sarah please come back inside” you said but the curious girl went inside the Adlers house after she heard a glass breaking. “no Sarah don’t go in there” you sighed, you loved that girl but she did not listen. Sarah was quiet walking into that house, making sure to not make any sudden movements as she did. the noise was coming from the kitchen and she quickly made her way there and almost screamed at the sight infront of her.

you were right behind her, you felt sick to your stomach as you saw Mrs Adlers mum chewing on her daughter’s neck with some sort of fungus growing out of her mouth. your eyes widened and your heart dropped, what the fuck was going on? the once disabled old woman looked up at the two of you and quickly stood up screeching and running after you when you told Sarah to run.

you weren’t as quick as you used to be but you were luckily quick enough the run away from this infected woman, she had fallen over the crinkled carpet giving you enough time to escape. “Sarah we need to get back in the house right now” you shouted as you grabbed her hand and tried to pull her into the house but as you did Joel’s truck pulled up.

“get in the truck right now” Joel shouted at you both, he sounded scared and he was never ever scared. this made you feel even more sick than before. he had a wrench in his hand and he quickly pulled the two of you behind him when the screeching sound approached you again. you all looked at the front door to see the elderly woman fall over the steps of her front porch.

Tommy got out of the car with a huge rifle in his hand making your eyes fill with tears, you were absolutely terrified but you didn’t want to show Sarah that you were scared, if she saw that she would feel even more frightened then she already was. you grabbed ahold of her hand and tried to pull her into the truck but she wouldn’t budge. it was like she was frozen in fear.

the old woman’s head shot up, her eyes were black and she started crawling towards you then she stood up and ran towards Joel and Tommy. “what are we doing Joel” without a second thought Joel cracked the wrench on her head making her fall to the floor. you and Sarah both gasped at what he had just done. Joel was never a violent person and this had shocked you.

he dropped the wrench and they both turned to look at you and Sarah. both of your faces were filled with fear and Joel quickly pulled Sarah into him “you killed her” she said, voice filled with fear “i know baby i’m sorry” he kissed her forehead and looked at you. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. you were confused and scared. “we gotta go” Tommy said making you all quickly get in the car.

you were sat in the back with Sarah who hugged you closely “it’s alright honey, it’ll all be over soon i promise” you whispered and you rubbed your hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her but also trying to comfort yourself. you could feel the baby kicking vigorously “are you okay y/n? you aren’t hurt are you?” Joel asked as he looked back at the two of you. you just shook your head.

you didn’t know why but all this fear made you wish you were back to being a little kid, wishing that your mum was there to comfort you when you were scared yet now you were the adult comforting your child and you didn’t know if you would ever even see your mum again.

“dad-” Sarah said but Joel quickly cut her off “i don’t know” he said like he knew what she was going to ask him. “they’re saying it’s a virus, some kind of parasite” Tommy added making Joel look at him. “does it come from terrorists?” she asked making Joel repeat himself “we don’t know”

“are we sick?” she asked and this time you answered “no, none of us are sick” Joel nodded “of course not” he sounded mad but you didn’t know what at. “why were they blowing things up?” her eyes were filled with tears as she asked all these questions.

“no idea, there’s no phone, no radio” her eyes darted between Tommy and Joel “how do you know?” she asked, voice laced with concern “what?” Joel looked back at the two of you, cuddled up together with you trying to act your calmest but he knew you, you were freaking out.

“how do you know we aren’t sick?” she was practically crying now. “they’re saying it’s mostly people in the city, that’s why they have the highway blocked off” Tommy said but he was quickly silenced when he drove past a burning house of one of his friends.

“the Adlers would take nana to the city, so that’s why they were sick?” Joel nodded “your right, that’s probably why” his thick texan accent was filled with concern but he tried his best to stay calm. “we are going to be fine, trust me” Tommy said but he sounded unsure of what he had just said.

he drive around the corner and quickly slowed down when he saw a small family. “what are you doing?” Joel asked and Tommy just shook his head “they have a kid Joel” Joel quickly cut him off. “so do we, are you forgetting that my wife is pregnant?”

“Joel Tommy is right, they have a kid we should help them” he turned back to you “no, we don’t know them. keep driving Tommy” he’d never spoken this was before and this was definitely not the Joel you knew. you just prayed that whatever this is would go away and you could go back to your normal lives.

-♡-

you were driving through the town, planes flying low, catastrophe everywhere and you were just scared. “right keep going down this way” Joel said as Tommy drove down a side road leading to a whole group of people who were fighting and running away from the danger. “keep driving Tommy” Joel said even though there were people everywhere.

“are you kidding? Joel i can’t just drive through a whole group of people” Joel cut him off shouting “just keep going damn it” cars were crashing into each other, the sounds of people screaming made your eyes fill with tears. the next thing you knew the cinema doors cracked open with a lot more people coming out of it, all of them crying.

“shit” Tommy said as he quickly stoped the car “go go, fuck Tommy go get out of here” Joel said as he looked behind him out of the truck and slammed his hand on the dashboard “i’m going, i’m going” Tommy started reversing back, careful to not hit anyone in the process.

Sarah looked out the back window and so did you, seeing the huge airplane falling rapidly toward the floor. “Tommy, you need get out of here” you shouted as the plane darted toward you. “fuck Tommy go now” Joel shouted but it was too late, the huge plane crashed on the ground exploding into a million pieces.

the huge flame almost blinded you, you felt sickened at the thought of all those people on the plane that didn’t even stand a chance. “oh shit” you heard Sarah say as a huge chunk of the plane crashed into you car and then your whole world went black.

-♡-

“y/n” you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder as you awoke from the darkness “y/n honey we need to get you out, can you get out slowly for me angel?” Joel’s soft voice filled your mind as you sat up, a sharp shooting pain went right through your stomach making you groan. “my stomach is killing me” you said as you put a hand on your belly. you looked out the window and saw Sarah sitting on the floor and Joel crouching next to where you were sitting.

“don’t panic, it’s probably nothing okay?” Joel’s heart dropped when he heard you say that, a pain in your stomach was never a good sign especially when you are pregnant. “can you get out sweetheart? or do you need help?” you just nodded and started making your way out of the car.

once you had gotten out of the car you stood next to Sarah and saw Tommy was on the opposite side “we gotta get off of the street” he said as you stood up right, you right hand still back on your stomach hoping to feel any sign of movement. “Sarah can’t walk, i’ll have to carry her. do you think you can walk?” you nodded again. “shit” you heard Tommy shout as a police car crashed into Tommys now ruined truck.

the car set alight and you were lucky you even made it out of the car that quick before it crashed otherwise you would have been dead and you wouldn’t have wanted your family to see that. “Tommy” Joel shouted as he tried to see Tommys face through the flames. “i’m okay, head to the river and i’ll meet you there” with a simple nod Joel picked up Sarah and pushed you behind him.

“stay close okay?” he gave you a quick kiss before you both started making your way through the side roads trying to find a way to the river. the two of you stopped once you saw a group of bodies with people eating them. “what the fuck” you whispered as you saw this horrific sight in front of you. one of the people shot up, looking at you twitching weirdly.

“go” Joel pushed you in front of him and you both started running through a random cafe. the man chased you, snarling and screeching as he followed. you could hear the man tripping over different things but you didn’t dare look behind you. you could hear Joel comforting Sarah who was now crying as you finally made it outside but you didn’t stop running until a gunshot filled the silent field.

you and Joel both stopped, turning to look back and the now dead body in front of you. “don’t move” you heard someone say next to you as a bright light shone on the three of you. “my daughters hurt her ankle and my wife is pregnant” the man lowered his gun and started talking to his radio “i’ve got three civilians by the river, one of them injured, one pregnant”

you couldn’t make out what the other person was saying but your thoughts were cut short when Sarah spoke up “what about uncle Tommy?” she questioned Joel just shook his head “i’m gonna get you both safe first then i’ll go back for him okay?” she just nodded and you all looked back at the masked man. “yes sir….. yes sir”

he raised his gun “we are not sick” Joel said as the man approached the three of you. “sir, i said we are not sick” with that the masked man shot a round of bullets and Joel heard you and Sarah scream. you all rolled down a small ditch and Joel quickly turned to look at the man who was now approaching him with his gun raised. “i’m sorry” he said but before he could shoot Joel another shot was fired, killing him instantly.

he looked up to see Tommy with his gun raised, he had never been so happy to see his brother in his whole life. “are you okay?” Tommy asked Joel who was just grazed by a bullet and Joel just nodded but Tommys eyes shifted to you who was covered in blood and gasping for air. “oh god” he said making Joel turn around to look at you.

all you could do was feel a throbbing pain in you stomach. Joel quickly got up and ran to you and Tommy made sure Sarah was okay and turned her away from you. he knew Joel wouldn’t want her seeing you like this and it was bad enough he had to see you like this. “no no it’s okay” he could see the blood soaking through your jumper, the once grey colour was now a soaked dark red and it was growing by the second.

“you’re okay, move your hand honey” Joel said once you’d moved your hand, putting pressure on the wound. you cried in pain as you still gasped for air. “i know i know im so sorry sweetheart i am” he said and he pressed harder on the wound to stop it from bleeding out more. you managed to speak through your pain as you grabbed onto Joel’s arm “go” he shook his head.

“go Joel, take” you took a few more deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down “take Sarah and go” he just shook his head again. “no, i’m not leaving you like this. i can get help and you’re gonna survive this” he said, his eyes filling with tears as he saw your tired but pained expression.

“you know how much i love you, i don’t” you closed your eyes as you breathed deeply again “i don’t want you seeing me like this” you stuttered out. you felt a tear roll down your cheek as you realised what was about to happen to you. “meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me” you could hear Sarah sobbing next to Tommy and you hated that she was even watching you, laying there covered in blood.

“i’m sorry” he said as he sat down next to you, he took the pressure off of your wound and you were grateful he had given up, there was no way you were going to be able to survive this and you didn’t want to prolong it. you just shook your head at his comment. “don’t-”

you felt pain all over your body but you felt tired, so tired that you wanted to sleep desperately. “i love you, i love Sarah. just take her and run okay?” he had tears now rolling down his cheeks, his bloody hand now stroking your cheek softly. “im not leaving you here on your own” you just smiled at him. you knew he wouldn’t leave but you wanted to save him from the trauma of seeing you go.

“i know” you looked at him and he kissed you, one last for however long he has left on this earth. “i love you so much” you heard him say and with that your eyes closed. he sobbed quietly, you were gone and nothing was ever going to bring you back.

you were carrying his unborn child and he wished he could go back in time and taken the bullet instead of you. you were this ethereal soul who didn’t deserve to die this way and he hated it. he hated it so much. he tried his best to calm himself down as he took your wedding ring off of your finger and put it in his pocket hoping to keep it safe. it wasn’t like someone was going to steal it but he took it off so he could have something with him that was yours.

he kissed your forehead and carefully placed your body back on the floor and turned toward Sarah and Tommy, he had tear stains on his cheeks but his expression was neutral. “let’s go” he said, he was emotionless “dad, we can’t just leave her-” he cut Sarah off “i said let’s go” with that the three of them left and never looked back.

[asolareclipses]

“Isn’t she a beaut?”

“A what?”

“Gods Nico, you never know what i’m talking about.” Leo sighed, turning his attention away from the chariot he was just boasting about.

“Maybe because you never make any sense,” Nico rolled his eyes anticipating the next comment about to leave Leo’s mouth.

“Or…you’re just an old abuelo,” Leo failed to hold back his smirk.

Nico glared at him, he didn’t speak spanish but he’d heard that word enough to know what it meant. “Call me that one more time fire boy and you’ll wish you died the first time.”

“Holy smokes! Someone’s feisty today,” Leo raised his hands signifying a truce. “Anyways, moving back to the important things, just look at this masterpiece!” Leo gestured back to his creation.

As Nico’s eyes move to scan over the chariot, he had to try not to be visibly impressed. It was incredible. Each wheel had hundreds of gears all lined with celestial bronze and steel. The sides and rims danced with various contraptions, every piece was delicately crafted with the upmost detail. It looked as if it was built to withstand whatever may come in its way.

“You built this in a week?” Nico asked, hoping his awe wasn’t evident in his tone.

“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Perfect for the race don’t you think?”

Yeah? Nico almost sang his inner praises to Leo at that moment. But he knew if he were to boast Leo’s ego like that, he wouldn’t see the end of it for days.

“It’s not bad..” Nico spoke carefully.

Leo smirked, “Finally glad you decided to be on my team?”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Nico said. “You begged me for weeks and weeks on end until I said yes, just so you would leave me alone.”

“Hm, funny. I don’t remember that happening.”

“Leo-“

“Anyways- You said you had the horses taken care of?” Leo masterfully changed the subject.

Nico nodded with a sigh.

Leo stared at him, before looking around as if he were expecting something. “Well…where are they?”

“Right, you might want to step back.” Nico suggested.

“Step back why would I-“ Leo was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble, kicking up dust and small rocks. “Right that’s why,” he hurriedly stepped backwards.

The grass shivered and after a moment of rumbling, a bone popped out from the ground. It was then followed by another and another. Soon several bones came together forming two skeletal horses. They moved similar to regular horses, if regular horses had no skin or organs.

Nico stepped back, admiring his work. In the back of his mind he imagined the future lecture he’d receive from Will. ‘What did I say about unnecessary power usage?’ Still, looking at the horses, Nico figured it was worth it.

“Woah,” Leo smiled. “That’s so much cooler than a regular horse, or even a robot one.”

“More durable too, any attack and they’ll just reassemble.”

“Dude!” Leo was now practically jumping up and down, “we are so going to win this!”

Part of Nico wanted to join Leo in the excited jumping. But the other part of him thought that would be out of character; what this ‘character’ of himself was though, he didn’t know. Nico had struggled with displaying his excitement, every time he felt that burst of joy. That buzz of happiness. It reminded him of when he was younger, first arriving at camp with that same feeling. He wondered where that little boy had gone.

A horn blew, drawing Nico out of thoughts.

“That’s Chiron,” Leo said. “Time to head to the starting line.” A devilish grin appeared on his face that made Nico a little nervous. Clearly Leo’s chariot was armed with machinery that would even make the Stoll brothers jealous.

As they stood in the chariot at the starting line, Nico rethought all his life decisions. Why had he agreed to do this race again? At the time it seemed like the only way to get Leo to leave him alone, since he had been profusely begging Nico to team up with him every day. Now Nico couldn’t decide which one was worse, and annoying Leo or a brutal chariot race. Suddenly a cold chill ran down Nicos spine, he couldn’t place it but something was wrong.

Before he could dig deeper into this feeling, Chiron blew his horn again, signaling the beginning of the race. The chariot promptly took off, immediately blasting ahead with the upmost speed. Nico had to grip the railing just to not go flying off, struggling as the winds made it hard to keep his eyes open.

The Athena chariot tried to launch a net from behind them in an attempt to catch the chariot, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, the net came flying back at their chariot getting caught in the wheels and sending the campers into a panic. At the same time the Stoll brothers were shooting some contraption they’d made at the Ares cabin. When resulted in both chariots veering off track and into the woods.

As they continued to speed up, Nico watched as all the other chariots got farther and farther away. He’d began to think this was going to be a lot easier than he’d initially thought.

“Works just like a dream!” Leo yelled over the winds.

Nico nodded, pointing to the floating finish line, Chiron had decided the chariots needed to not just be fast but be able to account for height too. Of course for Leo that had been an easy task. For the others, well they had to hope their pegasuses were strong

Sooner than expected they were nearing the finish line, and Nico waited for something to go wrong. He was sure the others would catch up and give them a hard time, but when he looked back the other chariots were still lagging behind.

Then a hint of smoke began to fill the air, slowly becoming stronger. Nico looked around, the chariot was shaking now. A deep rumbling that shook his whole body. More smoke started pouring out from the golden edges, polluting Nico’s lungs.

Leo looked shocked, rushing around as he tried to find the culprit of the smoke. “I don’t get what’s wrong?”

A fire sprung up and danced along the rims of the chariot, Nico stepped away, coughing as his lungs begged for clean air. He looked at Leo with panic in his eyes at the same time Leo seemed to realize that Nico wasn’t immune to smoke.

“Oh gods what do we do?” Leo called out.

Turns out Nico didn’t need to answer that question because in a blast of light the chariot exploded, sending them both flying.

The world went black.

—

Why did every creation of his blow up? That’s what Leo wondered as he plummeted from the sky. He figured he would turn into a Leo pancake when he hit the ground, splat.

The idea would’ve made him laugh if he weren’t currently falling to his death. Leo could still see the flaming chariot above him, another masterpiece blown to pieces. Maybe that would be his legacy, the demigod who destroyed everything he made.

The wind was fast as he fell, blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. It was eerily familiar, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen from the sky. As he fell further, Leo tightly shut his eyes, expecting to hit the ground any second. But instead he felt something hit him. Well, less like hit and more like grab. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped out of his skin.

Jason had caught him, he was now face to face with him. Startlingly close. All Leo could see were his striking icy blue eyes. He felt Jason’s arms tightly secured around his waist, and he felt the breath of relief Jason sighed when he realized Leo was safely in one piece.

Why Leo obsessed over each of these small incriminate details, he would never say.

“Thanks superman,” Leo grinned nervously. He hoped the blush across his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

Jason glared at him as they began to descend to the ground. “Next time i’ll let you fall.”

Leo was about to make another comment when his heart dropped, “Nico.”

Jason’s eyes widened as he looked up at the chariot. They seemed to flicker across the sky, as he tried to locate the other chariot rider. “Oh gods.”

Splash.

Just in time Leo turned to see Nico plunge into the lake, Jason had been too far to reach him seeing as they’d somehow been blasted in two different directions.

Leo’s shirt was still smoking from the explosion and his bones felt like jelly, but it didn’t stop him from rushing to the lake as soon as they touched the ground.

Will had gotten there first, he’d always managed to get there first. He began dragging Nico from the water, a crowd of panicked demigods forming around them.

As soon as Nico was pulled to shore Leo stumbled his way over, pushing through the crowd. “Is he okay? Is he breathing? Oh gods this is all my fault.” He stuttered and tripped over his words as the guilt built up inside his stomach like rocks. He shouldn’t have made Nico join this stupid race, he should’ve known it would go wrong. Everything he did always went wrong.

“Leo, don’t say that.” Jason stepped forward putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

Leo wanted to believe him but the guilt was overpowering it consumed his mind.

He silently watched as Will hummed placing his hand on Nico’s chest. Leo didn’t know what he’d do if Nico didn’t wake up, but luckily he did. Shooting up, coughing and spluttering, Leo recognized the look of relief that flashed across Wills face.

Jason’s hand gripped Leo’s shoulder tighter as he remembered to breathe. Suddenly his adrenaline rush crashed and so did he. His knees went weak and he would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him, again.

“You okay?” Jason asked softly. A warm tone that felt delicate and strange, yet it reassured Leo every time he heard it.

Leo nodded, looking back at Nico who was smothered in a hug from Will. He seemed to be repeatedly telling Will he was okay, despite him being dripping wet with several burnt holes in his shirt.

Nicos seemed to search the crowd until he locked eyes with Leo, he figured Nico would be incredibly pissed off at him. But he wasn’t, his eyes flashed a look of concern before he mouthed you okay?

Leo nodded as convincingly as he could, overly aware of Jason’s warm presence behind him, being the only thing holding him up.

The crowd was dispersing as Will managed to pull Nico to his feet, draping his arm across his shoulders. “Both of you,” he looked towards Leo, “infirmary. Now.”

On the way, Jason did most of the walking, as Leo’s new jelly legs hadn’t regained their sense of feeling yet. His whole body was aching by the time they’d reached the infirmary. Turns out, being exploded hurts. Shouldn’t have been surprising as he’d been exploded before.

As Leo sat on the infirmary bed his mind was spinning. He thought through every piece of bronze, every gear, wondering what had gone wrong. He had double, scratch that, triple checked to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Yet something still went wrong, seemingly out of nowhere. He replayed when the fire broke out, despite his frantic waving and patting down of the fire it didn’t extinguish. The realization hit him like a semi truck.

“Greek fire,” he said out of nowhere while Jason and Will rushed around; checking that he and Nico weren’t severely injured.

“What?” Jason said, his hand freezing in place as he picked up a bandage.

Nico inhaled sharply, looking at Leo as if he immediately understood. After hanging out for so long Nico had learned how to understand whatever thought process Leo was on, “That’s what it was, that’s why it kept burning. Why was it in the chariot?”

“I don’t know,” Leo sighed. He racked his brain for any contraptions that would lead to the emergence of greek fire. But he was sure that it wasn’t built into his chariot at all. “I never used greek fire, I don’t get how it would just erupt like that…unless…”

Jason’s eyes widened, “Do you think someone put it there on purpose?”

Leo met his eyes, he knew an accusation like this was dangerous. It meant that someone intentionally sabotaged their chariot, in a way that could only be intended to kill.

“But why would someone try to hurt you with fire?” Jason asked.

Leo felt his heartbeat stick in his throat, “Maybe I wasn’t the one they were intending to harm.”

He looked over at Nico whose face was now unreadable.

“You’re saying someone tried to kill Nico?” Will asked, his tone laced with anger.

“That or they meant to injure him severely, I guess they didn’t account for the explosion preventions I had in place.” Leo replied.

“Explosion preventions?” Jason asked, his eyebrow tilting up in the way it always did when he was confused.

“Yeah, I figured with my track record i’d add an extra layer of protection. Something that would lessen the impact of a possible explosion. That’s why we went flying away and not…well everywhere.”

“First of all, that’s impressive.” Jason spoke, “Secondly, who would intentionally try to hurt Nico?”

No one answered. None of them could fathom the idea that someone in camp would deliberately do something like this. Leo grasped at straws to find meaning, to find an excuse as to why this happened. But there was nothing. He knew Nico had never done any harm to cause this, he’d been nothing but a hero. He thought that everyone knew that, that everyone should know that. So why did this happen?

“We should talk to Chiron,” Jason said, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.

—

Will was fuming. Almost literally. He was sure if he’d been Leo his whole body would be aflame. The idea that someone had targeted Nico in such a way, was impossible for him to swallow. His anger felt hot, it bubbled up like a volcano inside of him. He could feel it ready to erupt any second as he dug his nails into his palm.

Then a light touch pulled him from his inner turmoil. A cold hand had slipped its way between his fingers, releasing the tension. Will looked over at Nico and felt a wave of guilt, he hadn’t thought about how Nico must be feeling now.

Years ago Will had told Nico that he was welcome at camp, that no one had pushed him away. Now someone had tried to kill him.

His guilt was followed by fear. Will tightly squeezed Nico’s hand, pouring every ounce of assurance into the touch and praying in his mind that this situation wouldn’t influence Nico to run away again. Just the thought of Nico suddenly disappearing like he had years ago made his heart feel like it was being suffocated slowly. He had to remind himself Nico was okay, he was right by his side.

Explaining what had happened to Chiron was the easy part, it was Dionysus who was difficult.

“We must find this traitor at once!” Mr D. stood up slamming the table, vines began to crawl up from the floor and around the table legs.

Will had never seen him so mad. Of course, if it were anyone else he’d probably just shrug it off. But this was Nico. So Mrs D. was reasonably pissed.

“We have to handle this carefully,” Chiron said; his eyes were filled with a deep sense of sadness and disappointment. He too couldn’t imagine why someone had done this.

“Carefully?” Mr. D asked, his eyes glowed with a dangerous hue of purple. “I say we round everybody up and unrelentlessly interrogate them until the rat comes out.”

“We cannot tortue innocent campers in hopes of finding the culprit,” Chiron calmly explained.

“We can’t. I can.”

“Then you would be punished by several angry gods.”

Mr D. had no response this time, sighing as he sat back down. The vines following suite as they shrank back into the floorboards.

“I don’t understand who would’ve done this, and why now?” Jason said, his eyes seemed to be clouded in worries.

“Leo, is there anyway this could’ve been a prank taken too far?” Chiron asked, there was a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“I really wish it was, but there’s no way they couldn’t of known about the precautions. I added the explosion barrier last second. The greek fire must’ve been somewhere near the engine, whoever put it there wanted the chariot to catch fire and explode. Midair,” Leos voice was somber, he leaned listlessly on his elbows which set on the table.

Jason watched Leo carefully, his face seemed to analyze Leo’s every movement, every word. Will recognized his attentiveness.

Chiron sighed, “We will investigate this. Perhaps there is someone, something, whispering things to the demigods again.”

“We can talk to Clovis,” Will added. “If it’s something to do with dreams or visions he might be able to help.”

Chiron nodded, “Just be careful. I don’t know how whoever did this will react if they catch on that we are suspicious.”

Will nodded, he couldn’t help but notice how silent Nico had been. He seemed to be lost in thought. Will wish he could crawl into his brain and disintegrate all the negative thoughts.

It appeared Mr D. was also concerned, his face flashed with worry as he looked over at Nico.

“We’ll talk to Clovis tomorrow,” Will made the executive decision. “You two need rest.”

Jason agreed, not allowing Leo to protest by quickly grabbing him and dragging him out the door way. “Let’s go hotshot.”

It was dark, a cold breeze blowing through camp as Will and Nico walked; a blanket of silence lay between them. Nico seemed to be trapped inside his mind again, his eyes dancing with unspoken worries.

“You okay?” Will asked as softly as possible, reaching out to touch Nico’s shoulder.

Nico nodded, “I guess.”

Will frowned, “You guess?” He expected Nico to lie and hit him with a ‘I’m fine’ like he normally did.

“I’m not sure what to think to be honest.” Nico replied, he began chewing on his bottom lip; a nervous habit Will had taken note of several times.

“Yeah...” Wills voice was quiet, his racked his mind for the perfect thing to say, but came back with nothing.

The two of them kept walking as Nico slightly leaned into Wills touch, despite his uncertainty he still sought comfort.

“I’ll stay in your cabin tonight,” Will paused, “to protect you.”

Nico face spread into a smile, a smile that punched Will right in his stomach. He felt a sense of relief to see him smile, “Yeah i’m sure that’s the reason.”

“What?” Will raised his hands in false defense, “It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.”

“Uh huh, super convincing.” Nico’s voice was coated with sarcasm, which was a stark contrast to the smile that danced across his face.

“It’s an excuse that would hold up in court, you know i’m not a lawyer but I know these things-“

Nico cut him off by grabbing his hand, “Come on sunshine.” He tugged Will lightly towards his cabin, it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone. That’s not to say Will didn’t want to stay with him on his own accord, obviously it was a little bit for himself. But mostly for Nico, mostly.

—

“Gods Leo use your legs.”

“I can’t they feel like jello, my arms too, and my-my everything!” Leo whined as he let himself be dragged along by Jason.

“You sure you didn’t hit your head in the explosion too?” Jason feigned annoyance. He was intentionally bantering with Leo, trying to boost the mood. Anything that could distract him from the fact of a potential murderer in camp was good, and Leo was really good at distracting.

“I think the explosion hit everything,” Leo stumbled. Jason quickly caught him, snaking his hand around Leo’s waist. He hoped Leo couldn’t hear his heartbeat which was pounding so loudly in his ears.

“You’re clearly incapable of walking,” Jason sighed. He figured he was getting quite good at acting as he almost believed his own false annoyance. “Just let me carry you or at this rate we’re going to be eaten by harpy’s.”

Leo smirked, “If you insist.”

Leo was a light weight against Jason’s back as he locked his arms around Leo’s legs; and when Jason walked, Leo’s arms dangled from around his shoulders. Then with a sigh he rested his chin on the top of Jason’s head.

“Dang the weather is pretty nice up here,” Leo said, his hands absently drumming against Jason’s shirt.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jason replied, earning a small thump against his chest.

Leo paused as he noticed where Jason was headed, “Correct me if i’m wrong, but this does not look like the way to my cabin.”

“Well..” Jason almost panicked looking for any excuse, “I figure you need to be watched over. You know, with your jello legs and brain.”

“Aww,” Leo teased, “are you scared?”

Jason tried to bite back a smile when his lame excuse succeeded. “Yes, terrified.”

“Don’t worry Jace, I’ll protect you from the big bad scary Zeus statue.” Leo giggled as he tightened his arms around Jason.

Jason smiled, he didn’t say the real reason he’d wanted Leo to stay with him. He didn’t say it was because he worried about his safety, that he didn’t want him beating himself up with guilt. Or that he’d seen Will sneak into the Hades cabin and felt a sense of envy.

Jason contentedly carried Leo on his back into the cabin; and as they entered Leo seemed to shrink against Jason whispering, “He’s looking at me,” before bursting into giggles.

“Now you know how I feel every night,” Jason complained. He walked over to his bed, where he’d recently gotten a divider; placing it so that his view of the statue was obscured. When he reached the bed he turned and promptly dropped Leo onto his bed.

“Ouch,” Leo said, sprawling out on the bed with his eyes closed and tongue stuck out as if he were emulating roadkill.

“Looks like jello boy died, what a shame.”

Leo opened one of his eyes and when he saw Jason was still staring at him he closed it again; a grin began spreading across his face, though he’d tried to hold back.

“You leave me no choice,” Jason rubbed his hands together, creating a harmless amount of static electricity. “Clear!” He called out thrusting his hands towards Leo.

A small shock was produced and Leo sprung up falling onto the floor with a yelp, pieces of his curly hair stuck up in the static.

Jason burst into laughter, almost doubling over as his whole body shook.

“What the hades man,” Leo looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I resurrected you,” Jason said between giggles. He’d laughed so hard his eyes began to water.

Leo stood up, patting down his hair. “Okay, i’ve been resurrected before and it did not feel like that.”

Jason shrugged, “What can I say? I’m too good.”

Leo shoved him lightly, pretending to be mad although he was still smiling. “Whatever, because of that you’re sharing the bed.”

“Fine.” Jason pretended it was an inconvenience. In reality he was desperate to be near Leo, to be by his side in any way possible. As close as possible. Leo emanated this warmth in a way Jason had become addicted to. It was a warmth that filled his bones and soul completely and fully.

So when Leo curled up next to him, it took all of Jason’s willpower not to wrap his arms around him and bask in the warmth. Just being beside him had to be enough, yet still he yearned for the full closeness.

Soon he heard the soft breathing from Leo next to him, the moonlight from the window filtering in and sparkling my across his face. His eyelashes look so delicate in the light and the splash of freckles across his face started to resemble a constellation. Jason almost hoped that the moment would last forever; that tomorrow wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to face the harsh truth that someone in camp had tried to hurt his friends. He didn’t want to leave Leo’s side. Not again. The fear of losing him was always so strong because he’d lost him before, they’d both lost each other. Now they were together again and Jason prayed that they could stay that way.

But he doubted anyone was listening to that prayer.

(Part Two)

[selarina]

This is Part 2 because you guys asked

This florist guy is a peculiar lanky character, who later revealed himself as Gojo Satoru, who is apparently the son of a rich guy, the grandson a rich guy. He descended from a whole lineage of rich men and women, and so, it seemed particularly odd that this scion of affluence was was cooped up in a barely running florist shop.

So, you didn’t end up texting the guy after he cheekily slipped his number on the card but you did get rather… intrigued?

There’s something so strange and unreal about him. Apart from the oddity, the lankiness, the outright boldness that could only be a result of a privileged upbringing, he’s also interested in you — and boldly so. It’s never truly happened to you before, even your current boyfriend took about 6 whole months of weighing out the pros and cons before asking you out. It feels nice, you do suppose.

You’re lounging on your bed, the red roses from the shop lying beside you on your bed table almost dead from the rejection of the apology you gave. And honestly, you thought not to put waste to such pretty flower. You intended to put it into a vase or an empty bottle but you never ended up doing it. It’s funny how you’ve managed to neglect them over the past few days. It seems like a cruelly fitting metaphor of your relationship.

you: remember that florist guy

yue: sighh

yue: yeah you haven’t shut up about him all week if you haven’t noticed

you: shut up i only mentioned him like twice

you: anyway

you: i’m pretty sure he told me he wished my boyfriend died

yue: WHAT

yue: he’s just like me fr <3

You sighed. He is just like her. She’s never liked your boyfriend and saw right through him to be the facade of a temporary high school relationship based on nothing but superficial optics that would hurt at least one of you on the way.

But now, at the very least, she felt safe knowing it won’t be you, regardless of how cruel and selfish that may be. She always prioritised only the people around her. It’s something you admire about her, you wish you could care about the people around you as much as she did.

You mulled over the prospect of texting the florist, Gojo Satoru. For starters, he’s clearly interested in you, and you’re clearly in an odd limbo of a relationship and the ethics of that are well… pretty grey. And also, he came off strong, bold and you’re just meh. The first taste of your bitter sweetness and he’ll run.

A week passes, the withering roses sit comfortably at the bottom of your trash bin, amid ruffled paper, tissues and other junk alike. You stil find yourself thinking about Gojo Satoru, pondering whether you should send him a message.

If he's going to run away, you reasoned, you don't see the harm. Well, you do see the harm for your current relationship but again, he's going to run. So, it doesn't truly matter. So, you text him.

---

A week elapsed, and you received no text back, it started to eat you alive just a bit. The single checkmark next to your message mocked you every time you opened the chat. Did he give you a dead phone number? Was he just being nice?

It's all too odd, and the memory of you meeting the guy starts to feel like something you made up. You try not to dwell on it much, focusing on school, chores, sports, friends. Yet, after exhausting these distractions, you found yourself lying in bed, bones growing drowsy, thinking and dreaming about the man.

So, several days later, you do something slightly insane. Some might argue it was the most sane course of action, namely... Yue. But who cares? You're the only one here to judge.

You really, truly do not have interest in him but you do find yourself slowly taking the long route back home, walking past the flower shop every chance you get this week. But you always made sure to maintain a distance, choosing to walk on the other side of road, because like you said before — you aren't interested, just curious really.

And it would truly insane if this meant anything because he's just some guy you met while buying roses for your boyfriend.

You start to notice the little things about the shop itself — how it seems perpetually quiet, how the flowers displayed outside changing is the only sign of it being active, and then you eventually manage to catch a glimpse of Satoru inside, tending to the blooms like he's a practiced still from a movie.

You started to wonder if he was purposefully ignoring you. His quaint and unpopular shop always seemed devoid of customers. What did he do with all his time? From all the times you have crossed past the shop, not a single one of these instances has had any customers in them.

And one day, you decide to finally go back into the shop. No excuses prepared, you decide to make it all up as you go.

"Thought you'd never come in," he greeted you with a grin, leaning casually against the counter as if posing for a photograph.

You turned to scan every corner of the shop, checking to see if anyone else was present, reluctant to divulge your teenage romantic conundrum to an audience.

But to your relief, the shop was empty, save for the two of you.

You turned back to Satoru, noticing how his signature black sunglasses lay perched on the bridge of his nose. That's another one of those unusual things you've noticed about him, how he's always wearing his glasses.

One day you got late at school, having stayed back to hang some posters, so when you walked back you noticed the man still donning his glasses, even though the night had already set itself in the sky. You didn't understand why he would wear them. Perhaps, he has an eye condition.

"So, you didn't reply to my text," you say, striving for a casual tone as you pocketed your hands and approached the counter. You try to ignore the implications of him knowing you were walking past here all week.

He doesn't say anything, tilting his head, before he startles you by taking off into the backroom.

You wait there, confused, staring at the silent flowers beside you, as you wait and you wait.

He reemerged with a bag, rummaging through it for something? His phone, maybe?

Yes, his phone. "Right! Sorry! Sorry, I had my phone off," he explained, his eyes focused on his loading phone.

"You have one... right here," you remarked, removing your hand from your pocket and pointing at another phone resting on the counter.

He chuckles, "Huh, yeah. I do have another phone, but that's more for business stuff. My personal phone is the one you texted," he clarified, nodding toward the device in his hands.

"I see," you replied plainly, slipping your hand back into your pocket.

"I'm sorry for not responding. How about I make it up to you over some Mochi?" he grins. "Today? Right now?"

"Whoa, hold on. I didn't agree to go on a date with you. Remember, I have a boyfriend," you reminded him.

"Right," he grits with restrained chuckle. "Well, I didn't ask you out on a date. Just Mochi."

You can't help but raise an eyebrow at his response, amused by his persistence.

"Just Mochi, huh? Are you always this forward with all your customers?" you tease, finding yourself intrigued by him and all his boldness and audacity.

"Well, you're not really a customer today. Unless, you want to buy me flowers before our date?" he grins, abandoning his apron, as he comes from behind the counter.

"Hey! I said this wasn't a date," you find yourself yelling back at him, leaving only a slew of chortles as a response from him.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

The Scenic Route

More dead boys! Post-canon, Payneland, pre-slash/getting together-ish, bestieism, bickering, sex talk/innuendo and soppiness. 2k. Enjoy!

Also on Ao3 (need to be signed in to read)

~

"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."

Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."

"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."

"He's just not used to taking the scenic route," Charles joked, nudging Edwin's shoulder. "Whole world out there if you look up from the crossword, mate."

"I've already finished the crossword," said Edwin.

"With my help," Crystal pointed out.

"I died in nineteen sixteen. How am I supposed to know which songstress recorded 'Strike Me Once More'?"

"’Hit Me Baby One More Time’," said Charles.

"Atrocious name for a song," Edwin muttered. "I was given to believe violence against women was frowned upon in this day and age. And yet here you are, making popular songs about it."

"It's a metaphor, innit?" said Charles. His brow furrowed. "I think. Haven't heard it."

"We get it. You're both old ," Crystal groaned. "Now shut up, I'm trying to sleep. Some of us still need to do that."

"You would've had more luck in my day," said Edwin, wrinkling his nose in distaste at their surroundings. "Decent benches, private compartments. Of course, travelling without a chaperone might’ve raised issues. I hardly think Charles and I count, given that no one but you can see us."

"And we're lads." Charles winked at her. "Fit, single lads."

Edwin gave him a withering look over his paper. "Yes, that as well." He flipped through to the personal ads, voice dry as a bone. "Lord only knows what tomfoolery we could be getting up to without supervision."

"No offense, Edwin," said Crystal. "But I don't see you and me getting up to 'tomfoolery' no matter what century we're in."

"Hm. Something else we can agree on."

"Well, I'm game," Charles grinned, folding his arms on the table and waggling his eyebrows. "Never done tomfoolery on a train before."

Crystal snorted. "Don't. Not fun. And don't ask me how I know that,” she said, cutting Charles off sharpish before he could quiz her. “Anyway, without Edwin's fancy private compartments your options are the bathroom or risk a sneaky handjob in your seat."

Edwin perked up. "There's that word again. Charles, you never did tell me what it means."

Charles winced. "Didn't I? Um. Right. Basically, yeah, it's when you..." 

"If you're gonna sit here giving grandpa a sex ed class, I am definitely getting up for coffee," Crystal muttered, throwing her coat aside and levering out of her seat. 

"Sure you don't wanna weigh in?" Charles called after her. He fully expected the middle finger she flipped him before stomping off down the aisle.

"So," said Edwin primly, newspaper set down in exhange for his notebook. He was poised and at the ready with his pen in two seconds flat. "Handjobs."

Charles squirmed. "It's not exactly arcane knowledge, mate," he said, struggling to look Edwin in the eye. "It's when you..." he made a strangled noise, and a descriptive hand gesture. "Y'know. For another bloke."

Edwin watched his hand, and realisation dawned. "Ah,"  he said, slowly tucking his book and pen away. "Indeed." He sniffed. "Crude name."

"Well, what would you call it?"

"Well. I haven't an equivalent term for the act as... bequeathed to another, so to speak.”

Charles bit his lip, holding back a grin. Who the fuck else in his life would use bequeathed in normal conversation? In a sex conversation? He crossed his arms before he could do something stupidly soppy and fond, like drop his head onto Edwin's shoulder and ask him to list his favourite words.

Edwin carried right on, oblivious to Charles' little moment. “But my father would've referred to the solo variation as ‘self-abuse’."

Charles snorted. "'Course he would."

"Yes, it was... a different time." He picked up his newspaper with an air of rigid discomfort. "People are certainly much more liberal in that regard nowadays."

"Yeah. Nowadays." Charles watched him closely. He'd always been a buttoned-up sort of chap, but. Since all that stuff in Port Townsend, with Monty and that bloody Cat King he'd... opened up, sort of. Wasn't going out snogging people or reading dirty mags in the office or anything, 'least not as far as Charles knew. But there was a curiosity in him, now. Something in those keen eyes that sparked up, latched onto certain things. All still wrapped up in good old fashioned Edwardian manners, of course, but Charles knew Edwin like the back of his hand – and he knew what his face did when he was interested in something. Just so happened what he'd been interested in lately was, well. Blokes. Some more than others. "You never try it then?" Charles teased. "The old, uh. Self-abuse?"

Edwin couldn't exactly, literally blush on account of being dead, but Charles could spot the signs. "Privacy was hard to come by," he said, carefully measured.

Charles raised his eyebrow. "But not impossible?"

"...No. No, not impossible." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should change the subject. Crystal will be returning shortly. Impolite to discuss it in mixed company."

Charles chuckled and sank back in his seat, casting his eyes out the window. The countryside rolled by, arid and golden. "Never been to France before."

"I suppose we haven't had any cases lead us here," said Edwin. "Nor have we had the need to travel through it," he added, voice clipped and curt. "Up until recently , that is."

"Got a right bee in your bonnet about the bloody travelling, haven't you?" said Charles. "C'mon, mate. Not like you and me are short of time, innit? Got all eternity to sit on bloody trains if we want to."

"I can think of better things to do with our time."

"Well – think of Crystal, yeah?" Charles reasoned. "I mean, she's alive. She's got what, eighty years or something left to be alive. How d’you think she feels 'bout having to spend half of it on public fucking transport?"

Edwin sighed. "Being alive was rather inefficient, in retrospect."

"I'm just saying... don't hurt to keep her company, eh?" He offered his best winning smile – and he had a good winning smile. “She's one of us, in't she?

Edwin rolled his eyes, but for once he didn't argue – Charles had him, and he knew it. "I'll... endeavour to be lenient," he offered.

"That's right big of you,” said Charles. He let their knees knock under the table. "Don't worry, not saying you have to be nice or anything. Just give the grumbling a rest for a bit, yeah?"

Edwin smirked. "Very wise of you to manage your expectations. 'Nice' is not a particular specialty of mine."

"I know." Charles grinned. "That's alright. I like it when you're a rude prick."

Edwin looked at him, and the hard lines of his face softened some. "Yes, you do seem to," he said; light, fond . "An ailment for which I fear there's no cure."

Charles ducked his head, smiling something daft. "We should do France properly sometime,” he said. “Go to Paris. Bet there's a load of old bookshops and that in Paris.”

Edwin brightened, with a little happy hum. "Capital idea, Charles. I haven't had reason to practice my French in some years." Then he sighed, proper dramatic. "Though I suppose we'll be taking the train again."

"Depends on if Crystal wants to come."

"Why wouldn't she?" Some of the stiffness had returned to Edwin's shoulders, but he was doing an alright job of hiding it. Anyone who wasn't Charles might not've noticed at all. "I daresay you two will want to take in the romantic sights while I peruse the booksellers."

Charles chuckled. 

Edwin flashed him an annoyed look. "It's a fair assumption."

"Yeah, well, we're not exactly like that."

"Is that so?"

Charles shrugged. "Had a bit of fun, but. She's still figuring some stuff out. Not looking for anything serious."

Edwin hummed, tightly, eyes fixed on the newspaper. 

Charles swallowed the lump of anxiety in his throat, and flicked the corner of the paper to get his attention. "Besides: had some stuff to figure out myself, too, haven't I?"

Edwin froze, the paper rustling in his hands as his fingers tightened on it. "Oh." He glanced furtively to Charles, while obviously trying not to look furtive. For a detective, he was a right crap actor, sometimes. "Yes. How is that... progressing?"

Charles rolled his neck, tilting his face in Edwin's direction. Edwin looked right strange, perched all prim and proper on the polyester train seat with its bowling alley fabric pattern. Charles could almost squint and see through time, to how he would've looked on a train in the nineteen hundreds; surrounded by wood panels and velvet, by family who wouldn't touch him unless it was to fix his hair, straighten his bowtie. He looked out of place here – but he was right next to Charles, so actually, he was exactly where he ought to be. And the afternoon sun on the yellow fields looked dead pretty scattered across his cheekbones and his nose and that neat, handsome sweep of dark hair from his temple.

Yeah. Charles was figuring a thing or two out, alright.

He looked away and fidgeted, trying to shut his eyes and settle back in his seat in a way that looked relaxed, unbothered – and not like he was trying to avoid looking too closely at his best mate's lips or his eyes or his long, clever fingers. "Let's make it just a you and me thing," he said. "Paris, I mean."

There was a moment of quiet, then the sound of Edwin's newspaper coming to rest on the plastic table. "...Yes. Yes, I'd like that."

Charles smiled, and let the rhythmic motion of the train roll over him – if he had a heart, it'd be thumping in time to the clickety-clack on the tracks. He couldn't sleep, not even in the dark behind his eyelids, but he could daydream. Imagine that he could feel the sun on his face, the vibration at his back.

And while he was at it, he could reach out, just a little, and hook his pinky finger through Edwin's. Just 'cause.

A very, very small laugh escaped Edwin – almost like a runaway gasp. "I suppose," he said, mildly. "The scenic route has its charms."

 ~

Soon, the thud of Crystal's boots rejoined them, along with Crystal herself. Charles didn't even need to open his eyes, so he didn't bother.

“Charles,” Crystal greeted – and then, curtly: “Edwin.”

“Crystal.” Edwin replied, with matching coolness. But the ice soon broke on an audible, weary sigh. “Truce?” he offered.

She took a loud, long, deliberate swig of coffee before answering. Her and Edwin were peas in a dramatic, petty little pod, much as neither of them wanted to admit it. “...Truce.”

Edwin cleared his throat. “Yes. Very good.” Then, after a moment: “Thank you for your patience.”

The sounds of Crystal getting resettled stopped abruptly. Charles opened his eyes and found her half in her seat, hand and coffee cup on the table, staring at Edwin like he'd grown an extra head.

"So you're in, like… a good mood, now?” she said. “That was almost an apology. What'd I miss?”

Charles glanced sideways. Edwin had his face angled to the window – and a small, soft smile barely tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh," said Edwin lightly. His finger twitched around Charles’, just a little. Almost a squeeze. "Nothing of import."

Charles fought – and failed – to suppress a grin.

Crystal looked between them. "Charles. You didn't like..." She made the same crude handjob gesture he'd done earlier. "Give him a demonstration ...?"

Edwin squawked in indignation, Charles burst into surprised, sheepish laughter; and the golden fields outside the window gave way to row upon endless row of lavender and grapevine as Provence rolled alongside them, painting the plodding hours in green and purple.

And Edwin only complained about it ten, maybe eleven more times. New record, that!

~

Hope you liked it! Consider dropping us a comment or a reblog if you did 😊

Wrote this in part to distract myself from a horrifically busy train ride, in part as wish fulfilment while daydreaming about a world where the British public transit system isn't in shambles and I can get on a cross country train that isn't cancelled and sit in my pre-reserved seat as planned. Written and posted on my phone so apologies if that's reflected in the form and formatting!

Til next time!

[fancyfeathers]

I'm Bad, But Then You're No Prize Either Yandere Wriothesley x reader, songfic

part three to this (1 and 2)

This is about Wriothesley’s darling, told more from a 3rd person, following him

When I was a babe, I fell down in the holler

When I was a girl, I fell into your arms

Wriothesley had a meeting with Neuvillette today mostly about employment of guards and incoming inmates. Life was fairly normal for his standards anyway, expect the fact that both his and Neuvillette’s darlings were running around Teyvat. It had been two months now and it’s been a miracle that you two have avoided capture for this long, thanks to ties between nations there was a warrant out for your arrest in almost every nation so you couldn’t stay anywhere for more than a day or two at most. For your friend anyway, Neuvillette’s darling, it was becoming exhausting, at first she was a driven to be free as the anemo archon but now after months of running she became homesick for Fontaine. That leads to what  Wriothesley and Neuvillette are seeing now.

We fell on hard times and we lost our bright color

You went to the dogs and I lived by my charms

Standing in front of them here in Neuvillette’s office is the judge’s darling, soaked to the bone from the rain outside, heavy bags under her eyes, honestly looking like a wreck, all except the anemo vision that rested on her hip, a cruel reminder of what she’s giving up. The guards who escorted her in when she requested to see Neuvillette looked shocked that she just turned herself in. Wriothesley watched as Neuvillette stood from her desk to approach the shivering woman. He stood in front of her, towering over her until he placed a hand on her head, combing her hair out of her face. She broke down sobbing, collapsing in the judge’s arms. From where Wriothesley was sitting he could hear the soft words from the woman of, “I’m sorry.”

I danced for my dinner, spread kisses like honey

You stole and you gambled and I said you should

It took some time for her to calm down, being sat down on one of the couches in the office and wrapped up in blankets. Wriothesley wanted to ask where you were but thought it may be insensitive to how she may be feeling now. But luckily he didn’t have to wait long for that answer because luckily she told it on her own. “She’s saying goodbye to her family.” 

Something with hearing that hurt the duke, but it did tell him where you were. He excused himself from the room, leaving Neuvillette and his darling to talk and to go fin his own.

We sang for our suppers, we drank up our money

Then, one day, you left, sayin' I was no good

He knew where your family lived, in the countryside of Fontaine. He had visited your family after your trail and runaway, it was your mother and younger siblings, your father had died years ago in an accident, leaving you and your mother to look after the rest of the family. Wriothesley had guessed that’s where your tough exterior came from, having to be tough for everyone around you. So now he stood in the entryway of your family’s home, your younger sister had let him in and told him that you were outback talking to papa. He found his way to the back door and looked out the window and saw you sitting against a tombstone under a tree, you had your guitar in hand and then he saw it.

A pyro vision, pinned on your coat.

Well, alright, I'm bad, but then you're no prize either

Alright, I'm bad, but then that's nothin' new

“Just like her father.” Your mother had silently come up behind the duke, watching you as well with a sad smile. He looked over to the older woman, seeing the silent tears falling down her face. “He taught her everything, that guitar she is playing was his, same type of vision, the same fire in their souls.”

“I’m sorry for your loss ma’a-“

“He died years ago, don’t be, it was an accident after all.” She paused in her words before looking over at him, taking the duke’s large hands in her small, fragile, ones. “I know we won’t be able to see her for a long time if ever again, but do me just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t take her guitar and don’t take her vision, ever. We may still be alive, her siblings and I, but that is all she has left of her father and words cannot describe how much of him is in her.” That request could be tricky, the vision bit, the guitar you could always keep, but the vision could be dangerous. He thought about it longer, you couldn’t escape the fortress even with a vision, so what true harm could it do? 

“You have my word, ma’am.”

The older woman smiled and nodded before excusing herself as Wriothesley stepped out the back door and he could hear your mother’s silent tears become sobs. 

You say you won't love me, I won't love you neither

Just let me remind you what I am to you

He stepped out into the field of a backyard, and he sat down across from you and the tombstone you sat against. You didn’t stop your strumming of your guitar and you didn’t look up to him. You two just sat, not speaking a word, just listening to the music. When you did finish you didn’t look up at him or speak, just sat in more silence. 

'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leapin'

I am the one who knows how you were brave

“We could come here on weekends, take a holiday. Visit your fami-“

“I’m not going with you, Wriothesley.”

There was a pungent silence for a long moment before he let out a heavy sigh and stood up, reaching down to pull you up.

“I’m afraid you don’t have choice- agh!”

When he grabbed your wrist in an attempt to pull you up, you reached a hand up to slap him across the face, but fueled by the power of your new vision behind it, leaving a burn on the side of his face. He staggered back for a moment, startled by the sudden act of violence. He quickly composed himself and looked up to see you, guitar thrown to the side, you standing up, fists literally blazing and an emotionless expression on your face.

“If I’m going to be locked up, I at least want a reason behind it and not a set up trial. I’m sure assaulting the Duke of Meropide would be enough.”

And I am the one who heard what you said sleepin'

I'll take that and more when I go to my grave

Before you were able to get another strike in Wriothesley slipped his leg under yours, knocking you off your feet and your head it the group with a thump, knocking you unconscious. Your mother was right, you had a fire in your soul, just like your father. He reached down and picked you up, holding you against his chest with one arm before reaching down again and picking up your guitar, swinging it over his shoulder with the strap. He didn’t go back through the house, carrying you around it, giving your mother a view of your unconscious body through the window as he carried you away. Maybe one day you two could come and visit, but that day wouldn’t be for a long time.

It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under

It's sooner than later that you'll be alone

You awoke, hours later, in an unfamiliar room and bed,nyour clothes were changed into pajamas, nothing scandalous or anything, comfortable if anything. Your head had been bandaged up from when it hit the hard ground. You sat up and looked around, you were in a room, a nicer room, you knew you were in the Fortress of Meropide, but this wasn’t a cell, you would much rather be in a cell. You went to stand and found you couldn’t, you looked to your ankle and found it on a very short chain attached to the end of the bed.

So who will you turn to tomorrow? I wonder

For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own

You sat there, alone for a long time, hours passed or at least it felt like it. There was no clock in the room, so you were only left to your thoughts and the silence. Then the door opened and a slightly disheveled Wriothesley stepped in, he roomed tired. But when he saw you awake, he smiled and walked over to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hope you got a good rest in, you were out for a pretty long time.” You didn’t respond, just sat in silence one more which drew a heavy sigh from Wriothesley. “Look I know I’m the last person you want to see right now but I’m the only person you’ll be seeing for quite awhile. Just so you know I’m not that bad, you still have your vision, it’s in the bedside drawer. Neuvillette has your friends, keeps it in his coat pocket.”

“Just fuck off.” You said, turning on your side so not to have to look at him. “This is your and Neuvillette’s faults, you did this.”

I am the one who you let see you weepin'

I know the soul that you struggle to save

You felt his hand intertwine with yours, forcefully, because when you tried to pull your hand away he only squeezed harder, to the point where it hurt slightly. You didn’t look over at him but you could feel his eyes on you and you could feel his hand loosen slightly and his thumb rub circles on your skin.

“I may be kind and I will always treat you well as long as you behave, but remember my kindness isn’t weakness.”

You heard his words and you saw your guitar in the corner. He would ask you to play sometimes, but you never would. You may be kind to your family but he is not your family, and you may weak to him but at least you would have the strength to say no.

Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reapin'

Now, what will you do when I go to my grave?

[cultofdarkwood]

If you'd like a fun and silly prompt, Cats of the Cult vs Lanolin. (Or even Leshy vs a Lanolin-high Yellow Cat.)

oh my godddd yes yes. Yarrow, yellow cat, they/them!

Leshycat and narilamb, but its mostly leshy teasing nari. i alsooo wanted to try writing from solely leshy's perspective, which is why there are no visual descriptions :3 unfortunately this means leshy cant see yarrow's HUGE giant kitty cat pupils

-

The first winter after the seasons had begun to change again was harsh. Unused to the cold weather, the Lamb's flock did what they could to stay warm, huddling against each other in the temple, day and night. The fields withered and died, and those who died succumbed to either chill or hunger.

The second winter was different. Determined to embrace the new seasons as they changed, the Lamb was prepared for winter this time. They stockpiled food in the autumn to prepare for the barren fields. They built better shelters. They dug out all their shearings of wool from over the years, brought them to the cult tailor, and instructed them to create as many warm pieces of clothing as possible.

What nobody was prepared for were the cats.

Leshy remembered what winter was like. Though it was a dim, distant memory, he remembered the chill and cold, the snow and how the beautiful leaves of Darkwood would change color and fall. It wasn't his favorite season, but he found that after all these years, he missed it. He had been enjoying kicking up snow and shoving ice down the robes of the Lamb's followers before the Lamb forcibly confined him to the dining hall, where the cooks of the cult were preparing lunch. Now, he sat in the corner and brooded.

"Leshyyy!" The familiar voice of the first friend he'd made in the Lamb's cult had him turning his head, despite the fact that he could not see. The sound of footsteps and the sudden rush of cold air announced the arrival of Yarrow, and the fluffy cat sat down next to him. He barely said a word before they pushed their whole weight against him.

"Yarrow-!" Leshy said in surprise, his leaves flaring up as the cat began to purr loudly and nuzzle their head into his shoulder. Despite the fact that there were other people around, eating lunch and staying warm and looking at them, Leshy couldn't find it in himself to push the cat away. He huffed, shoving down an involuntary chitter. "What are you doing?"

"Leshyyy," Yarrow purred, grabbing his arm and pushing their head underneath it to snuggle into his side. "You're so soffft."

"Did the Lamb open the drinkhouse when I wasn't paying attention?" Leshy asked with a grin, confusion and amusement creeping into his tree bark voice. "Why are you-"

"Warm," Yarrow said firmly, as though that explained everything. They purred again, nuzzling into Leshy's side. "Smells nice."

The familiar scent of bones and cat fur approached, and Narinder sat down on his other side with a huff. They had hurt each other in the past, but now that Leshy was mortal, Leshy wanted to hold on to the present, and Narinder seemed to feel the same. Leshy tilted his head towards his brother with a questioning sound low in his throat, and Narinder sighed.

"Damned lamb fucked up," was all he said, and Leshy snorted.

"That's not hard for them to do," he said with a grin, poking his brother in the side. Narinder swatted at his hand, and Leshy laughed. "Where are they, anyways? The two of you are hardly two steps apart these days."

"Not important. Every cat in the damn cult is-" Narinder paused. Leshy could almost picture the look of contemplation on his face. "Well. Like the one clinging to you currently."

"Warmmm," Yarrow said helpfully, purring as they nuzzled closer to Leshy.

"Are you not a cat too?" Leshy asked through a creaking chitter, bringing a hand up to run his claws through Yarrow's soft fur. "Why are you not- what's causing this, anyways? Did the Lamb bring back catnip from Darkwood or something?"

Narinder muttered something so quietly that even Leshy's crisp hearing couldn't decipher it. His leaves rustled, and he poked Narinder in the side again. Narinder hissed, but it was Yarrow who answered.

"Wool," they purred, their fur brushing against his leaves as they leaned up to rub their cheek against his. "Leader's wool... smells so nice."

Leshy turned his head and Yarrow's nose pressed into the leaves of his face. The fluffy cat was close, judging by the warm purring breaths he could feel against his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he had to will himself not to bloom, knowing that Narinder would most certainly tease him for it. Instead he carefully felt over Yarrow's clothes, the thick, soft fabric they wore covering most of them up.

"Narinder!" the Lamb called as they entered the dining building. Narinder stiffened up. Leshy immediately put two and two together.

"Are you avoiding them? Are you avoiding them because you don't want to make a fool of yourself?" Leshy laughed, a loud cackle that immediately caught the Lamb's attention, judging by the quick jingle of their bell from across the hall. The worm grinned, ignoring Yarrow's snuggling for the moment. "Damned lamb this, usurper that-"

"Shut up," Narinder hissed, shoving Leshy before getting up and all but fleeing. The Lamb called after him, and followed him as he left the dining building.

"Leshyyy," Yarrow purred, and Leshy turned his attention to the cat that had all but just crawled in his lap.

"Okay," he said, more affection than he'd meant to let out bleeding into his voice. He scooped them up carefully into his arms, laughing as they let out a delighted noise and clung to him. "Let's get you home."

[maxbruiser]

*Desperately shaking your shoulders* Where is the Viking Fic!?! I need it!! I want it!!! ;0;

uhh here’s the first draft of chapter 1 if you wanna see.

untitled Viking fic, chapter 1:

 Long ago, before civilization existed, the beasts of the earth first roamed the lands. Animals which were made and born of the flesh and blood of their mothers, then were returned to the earth when they died. 

Then came the creatures from the heavens, who were made of magic dust in the place of flesh and bone. When they died, their bodies would be turned back into dust. These beings called themselves “monsters”. Among them there was peace.

Beasts and monsters could be found in all corners of the earth and lived amongst each other in the competition of “kill or be killed”.

Another being which owned a flesh body like beasts and possessed strong magic like monsters also walked the same earth as the beasts and heavenly creatures. Where they went there was war. These were humans. They- 

“What do they look like?”

Red stopped mid-sentence and rolled his eyelights, tired of being interrupted by his little brother again for the umpteenth time tonight. He laid his gaze on the image of his younger brother Edge sitting cross legged on the sleeping mat beside him. 

Their skulls’ angular features were illuminated in the lamplight. Sharp teeth and crimson eyelights shone brightly in the darkness of the tent. The amber glow of the lamp flickered as the flame fought against the draft. 

“What’d who look like?” Red asked impatiently.

Edge scooted closer to his brother and elaborated, phalanges laced and held tightly against his ribcage in wonder. “The humans brother! What did they look like?” 

Red blinked at him and thought for a moment, trying to remember how his father told him the same old story when he was a babybones. Come to think of it, he didn’t really know what humans looked like either. Well, he supposed, when a story is passed down through several generations without being written down, details tend to get lost.

He shrugged it off. Most of them have probably died out already anyway from starting stupid wars with themselves. Humans were stupid like that. Or so he was told.

“Hairless. With flat faces. That’s how Dad described them anyway.”

“Hairless?” Edge echoed, unclasping his hands and bringing them eyelevel. He was hairless. Other monsters weren’t. Did he look like a human?

“Yeah, and wrinkly too probably.” he said with a grin, sniggering at the reaction it brought out of his little brother.

“Eeeww.” Edge wrinkled his nasal ridge at the imaginary image of a huge hairless beast shaking a spear in threat. 

“Mhmm. And not only were they ugly, but they were strong too.” Red raised his arms above his head and flexed in example.

Edge snorted at his display. “Their magic was?”

Red nodded. Lowering his hands to brush the stray fur strands from his parka trim away from his face. He continued. “A single human soul could defeat an enemy army of more than a thousand monsters.”

Edge’s brows raised in surprise before furrowing into a glare. “A thousand monsters? You’re pulling my leg bone.”

The older skeleton sighed and laid on his back. It was getting late, and he was already plenty tired from walking from one merchant post to the next. But he’d stick it out. After all, the fate of the wealth and prosperity of their homeland was riding on his shoulders.

“I aint. And If you don’t believe me, then you can paddle your way back to the island and ask Dad.”

Edge huffed, head lowering as he let his fingers trace over the stitching pattern of the mat beneath him.

“Maybe I would if we weren't already so far from home.” he shot back, unenthused.

Red sat back up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Edge. “Says the babybones who blubbered and begged me to come along.” Red teased. His little brother bristled at his words, an offended gasp sounded from him.

“I AM NOT A BABYBONES!!” Edge screeched. Red was quick to clamp a hand over his loudmouth little brother’s teeth, shushing him and holding a finger to his own with his other hand.

“SSHHhh! What are ya tryin’ ta do? Wake up the whole mainland!? Fine! You're not a babybones, just please keep it down!”

Under normal circumstances, Red couldn't give a rip about how loud and annoying his brother was, but that was back in their home on the island, not camping behind a random trading post in a paper thin tent!

A beat of silence passed before Red’s hand slipped away from Edge's mouth, narrowly avoiding being bit by him and losing a phalange.

“M’not a babybones.” Edge mumbled, fishing out a brown, tattered blanket from his pack and shaking it out over himself. He didn’t bother undressing or even taking off his scarf, knowing that as soon as he woke up he’d have to be back on his feet and hiking to the next town in search of traveling merchants. It also didn’t hurt that his day clothes added a bit of extra warmth to help ward off the biting cold of the late Autumn. Not that he needed it, he was a skeleton of course. ‘The cold goes right through him’ as his brother would say. But he liked the little bit of comfort it gave him.

He pulled the blanket over his head and rolled over, curling up as he did so. From under the blanket Red heard a quiet and muffled “finish the story”.

He settled again, this time choosing to rest on his side. Now, where was he?...

Another characteristic that separated humans from the likeness of monsters was that their souls were inverted and held a color that would predict their greatest attributes. A crimson soul represents the trait of a human’s strong determination, orange equated to bravery, yellow meant justice, green kindness, cyan patience, blue integrity, and violet was perseverance.

At some point in Red’s storytelling, Edge had rolled back over to face Red, eye sockets peeking out from under his covers.

 “They sound like they’d make great warrior allies.”

Red held back a laugh, instead letting it go as a sigh. “Yeah? Well, maybe they woulda been if they hadn't all died tryin’ ta kill all the monsters.”

“What!?”

“Yup. Humans’re evil. Strong magic and a soul trait couldn't beat us. Now they're all dead. G'night.”

Red blew out the lamp and rolled over.

“Hey!” 

Red ignored Edge and tried to get comfortable on the floor mat unsuccessfully. Its thin design allowed them to be lightweight and easy to travel with, however, being easy luggage didn't mean comfortable. Like sleeping on a napkin-

“Ow!” Red yipped, hovering his hand over where Edge just kicked him in the back.

“But how? I thought you said a single human soul could defeat an entire monster army?” Edge questioned, clearly unsatisfied with the story’s ending.

‘Fuck it, he ain’t gonna let me sleep until he gets an answer.’ Red thought bitterly.

He rolled back over and said to him;

“Cuz they were already fighting among themselves that’s why. Couldn't stand each other already. Add another war on top of that mess and it just wipes them all out.”

Red’s glowing eyes find his brother’s in the dark 

“Monsters help each other. Humans don't do that. That's why we're still here.” 

He takes Edge’s silence for the end of the conversation. And a long night.

He shrugs off his parka and lays it over the both of them, the thick fur material giving them more insulation than the old blanket ever would.

“Get some sleep. The next post is farther up than the previous ones.” 

It’s still in the tent. The sound of the wind whistling is the only noise. The brothers find solace from the cold under their coverings. They drift off to sleep

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back! Thank you kindly for your patience, we're done with Act III! It was probably a terrible idea to wait because this is so long, I'm so sorry.

previously, in harrowhark! a vagrant the ninth:

this happened

also a couple previews that will show up in this but are in the tag

currently, chapters 24-31 (END OF ACT III!!!):

harrow wakes up after sleeping a sensible amount of hours in yandere twin's room

yandere twin, who's into chomping cavaliers, complains about having had some harrow soup

they have a sort of tender moment, I guess

they have a complicated dynamic

harrow falls asleep again

she's in the bed and yandere twin is sleeping on the floor

and harrow is woken by the sound of self inflicted pain and torture

harrow gets tired of this and decides to just rip yandere twin's arm off

@lady-harrowhark reminded me that I called this (!!!) in this recap

I had absolutely 100000% forgot I said that but congrats past me!!!

so, there's this scene in which harrow rips yandere twin's arm off and puts a new bone-y one in there, remade with her own parts

like this

some people have told me in the replies that it's a sessual sort of scene, and I get that, I suppose it was the vibe it was going for

total respect to that

but I'm gonna be honest here

it felt like I was witnessing a birth and harrow was the midwife

so harrow lets yandere twin know that she's been improving her necro powers via studying and practicing to try to make up for her being "lyctor lite"

harrow and alleged gideon aka ortus are the only people here that seem to be getting any work done tbh

so now, with the new arm, inner chad can use the sword again

and yandere twin is happy because she's now a proper lyctor and has senior chad aka augustine's approval

harrow is proud of herself for doing nice necro things like chopping and reconstructing arms

as a thanks, yandere twin agrees to help harrow to kill alleged gideon the first aka ortus

nobody asked you, but ok

I actually have no qualms with alleged gideon aka ortus

because he's at least direct and honest about it

everyone here has an agenda, at least this guy's like directly trying to physically kill harrow

at this point, I respect the direct approach

augustine and emperor reverend professor john can go fu—

WELL, ACTUALLY, WE'LL GET THERE LATER

CHAPTER 28

we're back at gideon-less canaan house

canaan house isn't safe in any universe, all the trails lead to death

everyone who's alive or accounted for is having a sleepover

there's a bunch of people unaccounted for, actually

the kiddos from the fourth are allegedly hidden elsewhere

who knows, at this point

I don't trust anyone

there's a fog and rain and water rising still

which reminds me of the movie identity, in which they all were trapped in that motel because it wasn't actually a motel and they weren't actually alive per-se

magnus and abby say that protozoa should have decked mayonnaise uncle

which is one of the reasons why the gideon universe is superior

aside from the presence of gideon and camilla

I miss them so much I'm gonna start biting cavaliers

anyway, where in the hell is duracell bunny nephew???

he wasn't with mayonnaise uncle when he yeeted himself

his soul, which got detached from his body in the gideon universe, is still flying like a balloon across universes and dimensions, I guess

abby didn't expect regina george twin to die, apparently, and says "if she's gone, then perhaps that means..." but doesn't elaborate

nobody ever elaborates

abby also makes harrowbean read another one of the "harrow texts"

I can't keep adding them all together in recaps because this will end up being super long but here goes the new one

"I will remember the first time you kissed me —you apologized— you said, I am sorry, destroy me as I am, but I want to kiss you before I am killed, and I said to you why, and you said, because I have only once met someone so utterly willing to burn for what they believed in, and I loved him on sight, and the first time I died I asked of him what I now ask of you. I kissed you and later I would kiss him too before I understood what you were, and all three of us lived to regret it—but when I am in heaven I will remember your mouth, and when you roast down in hell I think you will remember mine"

so yeah, we've got a triangular situation, I suppose

I need to put all of them together to continue to draw connections

my though was that this could be ice cube barbie aka annabel lee, because of the long-lost sun, but I'm unsure still

I don't think the timing fits the other side of the 3d model that's the gideon's mom and rebel leader situation

inconclusive still

abby suggests harrowbean she might be haunted

which might also fit with ice cube barbie??? maybe??? idk

CHAPTER 29

harrow says she doesn't remember shit about chad

get perpetually owned, chad

mercygirl asks harrow things about her necro process for the arm reconstructing and the last thing she asks is "what is the name of the saint of duty?" to which harrow says "ortus the first" and mercygirl goes

me and my "alleged gideon" theory are very happy about this

the hill I will die on

mercygirl continues to use onomatopoeias to express herself

I do not want to think about what that would imply in a later situation I don't want to dig into

"you read unholy omens in the way people say good morning" that's what these recaps are, thank you very much harrow

that's our tagline over here, that's our brand

"how you loathed any sentence beginning with augustine says" SAME, BESTIE

I HATE THAT MAN

he can go fu— ANYWAY

harrow and yandere twin are having sleepovers so that harrow isn't murdered in her sleep

apparently the nudes are cyrus and his cavalier and yandere twin likes that energy

they gifted them to others as souvenirs too

it's like if you had a university classmate who sent nudes to the groupchat every birthday

yandere twin says augustine the asshole has agreed to help kill alleged gideon aka ortus the first

I don't trust any of these lyctors if they're willing to kill each other this easily

how do I know they've got my back in combat if they don't have each other's backs—

I CAN'T EVEN ARTICULATE MY THOUGHTS AND NOT SOUND TERRIBLE NOW THAT I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS LATER IN THE PARTY

ANYWAY

yandere twin reminisces about not having been apart from regina george twin much in their lives and hoping she's sleeping well wherever she is

I also don't know where she is

yandere twin tells harrow that she was more farsighted than her

which I'm sure she was, but she doesn't seem to remember shit about it, and the letters remain unopened

harrow thinks it's kinda gross that the cyrus lyctor murdered his cavalier to become a lyctor and then took all of their nudes to the emperor's bolthole

none of these lyctors are operating from a place of common sense, harrow

"you were lucky that the memory of your own cavalier did not hurt you—except sometimes in the form of a sick headache in your temples, or in words stuck on repeat in your head"

so, augustine's plan involves dinner

harrow, hearing that, is like this

they look for clothes in the cavalier's things

yandere twin says "valancy trinit was my height, weighed more than both of us put together, and —judging by her portraits— had a body that did not quit"

I sure hope she's a thick girl, because I've had enough disappointment with the gideon cover not letting her have the arms she deserves

I hope valancy trinit looks kinda like this

ANYWAY, here's the makeover vibes, as previously shared

apparently chad could embroider, which I have to admit is a good quality

hate giving him any props, but I must be fair

harrow painted the less cute skull in her repertoire and we respect that

they went to augustine's room and he's still an asshat

I don't like how he treats yandere twin tbh

I feel like yandere twin has a thing with validation because of how her life has been and he uses that

augustine justifies his betrayal to his fellow lyctor saying that he "caused more pain over these last scant forty years than I dare to admit"

mercygirl is also here for the party, all dressed up

SO HERE'S THE THING

I am so embarrassed I didn't pick it up on the fly and it took me the whole chapter to put it together

augustine tells her "dios apate, minor"

at the time, I didn't remember what it meant, and when I finished reading the thing, I was like "oh, it's exactly like the deception of zeus"

I forgot that's what it was called

I mean, I got the "dios" part, obviously, but forgot the "apate"

my ancient greek professor is going to come back into my life to shoot me at my doorstep

to be fair to myself, it was a long while ago that I took ancient greek

AT LEAST I PICKED THE REFERENCE UP AFTER, OK????

god, I'm so embarrassed

palmolive, I'm so sorry, I promise I figured it out eventually

mercygirl punches augustine in the face, which is great

he insists on it being "minor", which idk where the line is there and I'm not gonna ask

idk which things are or aren't...involved in a minor form of zeus's deception

mercygirl says she's not wearing the right dress, I don't think it matters, it worked just fine

CHAPTER 30

everyone gets drunk except for alleged gideon aka ortus and harrow, because they're the only people in this group project who are doing the work

augustine and mercygirl start fighting about something their cavaliers did back in the day

they start toasting for cavaliers and talking about how "hot pyrrha was"

there is no respect for the dead in the emperor's bolthole

there's about to be something else in the emperor's bolthole in a minute though

I was excited about them drinking, though, because that's when people start spilling some truths

the lost commander of BOE is a "she", her name is/was Commander Wake, she almost killed alleged gideon aka ortus

I'm still spinning with the gideon's mom theory

and the background telenovela I've got going on

BOE found a Herald, killed it and turned it into weapons against these clowns

good for them, tbh, kill these drunk irresponsible bastards

emperor reverend professor doctor john thinks it's narcissistic of him to toast to himself

I want to murder him in cold blood

I hate this man so viscerally I want to rip him apart with my hands

the twist in this book is that I'm gonna reach to his murder and it's gonna be me

it's like bastian reading the neverending story but it's me killing this man

his full name is john gaius but I had been spoiled of his name by people not tagging their posts

he also does a "your mama" joke because he's my villain origin story

"part of your brain temporarily calcified into atheism" I'M GLAD, HARROW

so, they start to make out, all three of them

I finally caught up about zeus's deception and all about here

emperor awful is sandwiched between mercygirl on a table and augustine behind him and they forget there are children in the room

well, not children, but same difference, they're a million years old

harrow and yandere twin get the hell out of that display

CHAPTER 31

yandere twin wants to kiss harrowbean before she leaves to kill alleged gideon aka ortus, but harrow doesn't let her

harrow says "my affections lie buried in the Locked Tomb" to which yandere twin responds "Somebody might even exhume them for you"

when harrow mentioned not wanting to be touched while sleeping beside yandere twin, I remembered the pool hug and all that, that was a nice time

people were being killed left and right but it was a nice time

ANYWAY

harrow has a whole plan and has it all figured out, it's a really good plan, it works very nicely, but alleged gideon aka ortus isn't where they told her he was

sometimes, life works that way

the man you plan to kill isn't in the training room and all

she goes to look for him in not!dulcinea's crypt or whatever

and she sees this

and the spear

she follows the children's hospital trail of blood to the incinerator

alleged gideon aka ortus is inside the fire thingy and not!dulcinea is operating the controls

I wonder who could have predicted that this woman could still be an issue even after death

me, it was me

anyway, no time for I-told-you-so's because harrowbean decides to help him out of there

I'm very happy because I need him alive

he knows things and he's less bad than everyone else around here

because he's upfront about the killing

he tells her some things while he's kind of out of it

like to use blood wards instead of bone ones

that it will make her safe from "us"

"I know you're there. Kill me all you like. I would know you in the blindness of my eyes" he says and, among other things "Just tell me—back then—why you brought along the ba—"

WAS HE GONNA SAY BABY???? WHAT IF HE WANTED TO SAY BABY???

I'm still on my gideon agenda, sorry if it's embarrassing to read

of course emperor dickhead stops him before he can finish it

alleged gideon aka ortus says he doesn't remember shit afterwards and harrow sees her own mental state reflected in his

they can't find not!dulcinea, apparently

she's probably operating heavy machinery elsewhere

harrow is putting up her blood wards when she hears augustine and mercygirl argue about the whole zeus situation

the incinerator alarm apparently interrupted their plan of letting this happen

whether or not they had a hand on the not!dulcinea thing idk

mercygirl says she didn't move her

we end this act with ice cube barbie maybe annabel lee saying "The water is risen. So is the sun. We will endure."

obligatory yearning for camilla moment

That is the end of Act III and of my commentary because this was way too long and I need to make less chapters at a time istg

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE l JJK (02)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

←Previous Chapter (01) | Next Chapter (03) →

******

Eight Years Ago; 2015

Jungkook couldn’t lie. Life at Port Mafia was exhausting him down to the bones, but he felt an onslaught of energy rush through him when he saw you leaning on your car while waiting for him.

“Oho~ Perfect timing. My best friend is here to pick me up~.” Jungkook said in a sing-song voice as he happily skipped down your car. Unfortunately, you didn’t mirror Jungkook’s glowing mood.

“Yeah, I’m here to save your shitty ass from perishing. Here—” You pushed a paper bag into Jungkook’s chest before opening the passenger’s door and shoving him inside.

Normally, Jungkook whined about how roughly you treated him, but he couldn’t ignore the savory aroma wafting from the paper bag anymore. Jungkook had no time for drama when his stomach was growling this loud.

“Crazy bastard. When was the last time you ate!?” You scowled as soon as he entered the car.

Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes glistened with crystals when he saw a container full of crab spring rolls. His favorite! He happily uttered your name and asked, “Are these for me? Can I eat them all?”

A scoff escaped your lips when Jungkook stuffed five spring rolls in his mouth in one go. His question did not need a response, but you answered anyway: “You’re the only one I know who eats spring rolls like there’s no tomorrow. Of course, you can eat them all. I made them for you.”

“Aw, aren’t you a sweetheart~?” Jungkook licked his fingers before extending his arm to demand, “Now give me a drink.”

Room-temperature bottled water touched Jungkook’s hand.

“Huh?” Jungkook didn’t accept the water and looked at you with confusion. “Why are you giving me this bland drink? I want banana milk!”

“Shut your trap!” You unscrewed the bottle cap and forced Jungkook to drink it. “You don’t eat in time and even refuse to drink water. You really wanna die, huh?”

Jungkook’s lips puckered. He breathed, “I agree on the last part, but you got something wrong. I do drink water! I just prefer it with flavor. Jimin-hyung and I had coffee earlier. Although, it’s too bitter for my liking..”

A pause.

Jungkook shut his mouth when he noticed your frown deepen. There was a limit to his jokes, and Jungkook knew this. You and Jungkook had been friends since you were five. You might curse and beat him, but you cared for Jungkook. You really lived up to being his best friend.

“You haven’t eaten all day, and your precious hyung made you drink coffee? Very good,” you said sarcastically.

Jungkook let out a breath, “Hey, it’s not like that, okay? We were busy at the office all day. You know we’re a start-up business.”

Start-up, my ass. The words died down in your throat. Some things didn’t need to be voiced out for them to be valid. One look at Jungkook, and your chest tightened. The bags under Jungkook’s eyes were deep and black. If you argued now, Jungkook would be more exhausted. You didn’t have the heart to watch your best friend suffer. You just wanted to bring him home.

“Right.” You gulped and leaned closer to Jungkook to help him buckle his seatbelt. The move invaded Jungkook’s personal space. He could feel your hot breath on his neck.

You owned a secondhand car that Jungkook helped you pick. The previous owner said it was fully depreciated, but you thought it worked perfectly fine—except maybe the seatbelt. Jungkook always lost his temper every time he fastened this ridiculous thing.

You had to do it for him.

Normally, it took two seconds or less to fasten one’s seatbelt, but for some reason, you took a long time helping Jungkook buckle up, almost as if you wanted to stay in this position for the rest of your life.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” Click. The seatbelt was locked in place. You straightened your back and drove the car.

Present; 2023

Nostalgia hit Jungkook in the face like torrential rain.  As of the moment, you, although allowing Jungkook to sit in the passenger seat of your car, had no intention of getting close to him or whatever.

Jungkook heaved a deep sigh.

It was too cold inside your car. Everything had truly changed. Jungkook often complained about the broken air conditioning of your cheap vehicle back then. However, you were driving a top-of-the-line car now.

The atmosphere was awkward. If someone were to tell Jungkook that he’d one day sit inside your car in silence, he would surely call that person crazy.

There was never a dull moment when he was with you. Currently, the only sound that could be heard was the seatbelt warning signal.

Jungkook hadn’t fastened his seatbelt. It was unknown if he had forgotten about it or lost his mind, thinking he had traveled back to when you still fastened his seatbelt.

Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen again. The only thing you could do was remind him about it.

“Buckle up,” you clenched his jaw. ‘Buckle up’ was the second thing you had said to Jungkook after many years of not seeing each other. You two were at the facade of The Guild earlier. Jungkook was rooted on the ground for a long time, thinking he had gone insane to imagine you waiting for him just like before.

But when he returned to his senses, you were still standing before him, and then you opened your car door, gesturing for Jungkook to hop in.

Jungkook didn’t know what kind of demon (presumably the greedy one) had possessed him to enter your car.

Blame it on his brain that short-circuited, relying only on what happened years ago. He didn’t even hesitate. He just got the hell in, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

What was unnatural was how he tried to fasten his seatbelt. He was a bit drunk, after all. His brain was working slower than usual. Jungkook buckled up while wearing the thick yellow Ronald McDonald gloves.

It took him seven tries before realizing that he should remove the gloves, but before he could, you had already leaned closer, buckling the seatbelt for him.

So much for not helping Jungkook, huh?

Since you were close, your unfamiliar scent assaulted Jungkook’s nose. Gone was the soft fabric conditioner that usually stained your clothing. It was replaced by something expensive that seduced someone instead of overwhelming their senses.

Jungkook suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. In all honesty, it wasn’t just him. The strong smell of alcohol on Jungkook terrorized you—instantly turning your mood sour.

“You are drunk.” You moved away, focusing on driving once again. Your hand clenched the steering wheel tighter.

Jungkook didn’t speak. He knew how much you hated it when he drank. It brought you pain and memories from the past you’d rather forget.

Jungkook trembled just thinking about those harrowing memories. Meanwhile, despite your apparent anger, you still turned on the car’s heater when you noticed Jungkook shivering; this awakened another memory.

Once, Jungkook couldn’t stop complaining about how hot it was inside your old car, so you, completely crazy over him, brought out a folding fan to help Jungkook cool down.

It was ridiculous and sweet at the same time. Imagine driving with one hand while using the other to fan the annoying person in the passenger seat. Jungkook didn’t have the heart to see you suffer like this, so he snatched the folding fan from you and fanned himself. Besides, it was dangerous.

Looking back, you had always risked many things to make him happy. Jungkook’s heart throbbed at this realization.

So many years had passed, but you still found a way to care about him.

Jungkook found that he couldn’t take it. He wanted to get away right now. 

“Where are we going?” He asked. Only now did he realize how stupid he was to get into this car.

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it again. You wanted to say something but changed your mind at the last minute.

“Where do you live? I will bring you home.”

“No need.” Jungkook turned you down in a heartbeat. Who would have thought you would clench your jaw and disagree?

“You are drunk. I am bringing you home.”

Jungkook inhaled sharply. There must be something wrong with his head when he wished to see you. Your relationship was severed years ago. You two no longer understood each other. Just look at you—even your way of speaking changed. Jungkook’s tooth ached while listening to you talk formally.

But in the end, Jungkook told you the way home—just not his exact address.

“I’ll be okay here. The streets going to my apartment are narrow. Your car won’t be able to get in.” This wasn’t a lie. Jungkook lived in the poorest area of the city. Going there would only burden you, especially because many gangs waited there. They did not appreciate newcomers. Besides, your car was too flashy. You might end up walking home with a stab wound.

Thinking about that ugly scene, Jungkook shivered again. “Seriously. Just drop me off here. I’m not that drunk, okay?”

It was meant to be a reassuring statement, but your face turned ashen upon hearing that. The rims of your eyes even went red.

Jungkook touched on a sensitive topic that made your heart beat like a drum. He expected you to lash out just like before, but contrary to Jungkook’s thoughts, you simply pursed your lips like you were enduring something painful.

And then you finally stopped the car.

“Contact me.” You handed a calling card to Jungkook. The latter hesitated to receive it because for what? Why did you two need to contact each other again?

You sensed his hesitation. Your grip on the calling card constricted. You almost pushed it to Jungkook’s chest.

“Give me yours,” you demanded as if you knew your former best friend would never call you.

Jungkook held his sneer. He didn’t have a business card. Nobody would want them, so what’s the purpose of printing?

“I’ll call you.” Jungkook snatched the business card and hastily opened the door. He got out in the blink of an eye.

You were stunned but didn’t stop him.

“Thank you for the ride. Happy New Year. See you around.” A lie. He would not see you ever again.

It was too embarrassing. Jungkook was not used to feeling his heart beat crazy again. He was an old man now. He couldn’t handle intense emotions.

Seeing you after a long separation opened wounds he thought had already healed.

He fooled himself. He was a clown.

Literally.

Jungkook went straight to the comfort room of his apartment. His system really knew how to cooperate, huh? He was only vomiting now that he was out of your judgmental stares.

But really, could he blame you? Jungkook also looked at his reflection in the mirror, judging his clown self. He wished the brown patches in the mirror could cover it whole.

He didn’t want to see his face—didn’t want to think that he really met you while wearing the Ronald McDonald mascot costume.

Jungkook: “...”

Jungkook punched the mirror. 

And then let out an animalistic groan.

Jungkook hated physical pain, but he had a rush of dopamine seeing his hand bleed.

His thought of wanting to die was unleashed. He suppressed his pain and anger for years but couldn’t hold on any longer.

Just for today, Jungkook wanted to let it out. It was New Year, after all. He swore this was the last time he’d cling to his past.

And so he punched the mirror one more time. It hurt. It hurt so much that he wanted to cry or die.

Jungkook collapsed on his bed, breathing heavily.

Breathed in.

A tear fell.

Breathed out.

More tears.

He couldn’t die, so he just cried until he fell asleep.

***

Jungkook was jolted awake the next day by the banging on his apartment door. The sound was piercing, perfectly and annoyingly matching his pounding head.

A groan escaped Jungkook’s lips. He had to drag his heavy body to open the door. His eyes were still bleary from having woken up, and before he could properly look at the person in front of him, a knife had already penetrated his skin.

“Good morning, Jungkook-ah. I’ve come collecting debts~” The person who stabbed Jungkook had a saccharine voice, but the killing intent mixed in it was apparent.

Jungkook touched his aching stomach, unable to pay attention to the intruder. He looked at his hand; two colors were mixed together, giving an illusion of something hopeless and terrifying: reddish-brown, the color of dried blood from punching the mirror last night, and now fresh red blood stained his fingers.

Jungkook had been stabbed and was pushed to the ground before he could groan in pain.

“Why the long face, Jungkook-ah? Aren’t you happy?” The intruder mocked.

Jungkook was familiar with this intruder. He was Lee Sung. This man collected debts on behalf of Jang Min, his master.

“Eh? You’re not answering me? Jungkook-ah, it’s New Year. Where’re your manners? Haven’t you learned anything?” Lee Sung sneered, hauling Jungkook to his feet only to slam him against the wall.

Jungkook cursed internally: Bastard, yes, it’s fucking New Year. Won’t you give me a break!? But as usual, he couldn’t voice out his indignation. He didn’t have the energy and power to do so.

Powerless people had no voice. If there was one thing Jungkook learned in life, it was to act according to what the one in power wanted. It would make his life easy because he didn’t see the point of fighting when he knew he would lose from the start.

“You promised to pay eleven thousand yen for this month’s interest. Where’s the money~?”

Jungkook screwed his eyes shut. He lost track of the amount of interest accumulating in his debt. He didn’t even know how much the principal amount was. How could he remember? He was drowning in debt. Would you care how many times the waves hit you? No, right? You would only think about surviving or grasping for a life jacket.

His current life jacket amounted to nine thousand yen, so that’s exactly what he said.

“I have ₩9000 with me,” Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Cold sweat slid down his spine. “Can I...pay the remaining amount next week? I swear I—”

Lee Sung slashed Jungkook’s exposed collarbone with a knife, possibly to get him to stop bargaining.

“Of course, Jungkook-ah. I’m a generous man, don’t you know?” The lunatic with a weapon slashed another layer of Jungkook’s skin. “But I’m afraid I must cut your skin twice. One for each won you cannot pay today. Seems fair?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lee Sung already hurt Jungkook. The latter didn’t fight back. By the time the intruder was done, he had spat on Jungkook’s face and then pushed him.

The wooden floor creaked as Jungkook’s trembling body fell down.

“See you next week. Prepare the money, or I’ll have to cut your throat the next time we meet.” And then Lee Sung was gone.

Jungkook gritted his teeth, clutching his bleeding stomach. He had to call for an emergency before he lost consciousness. Unfortunately, his phone was on the bed. He struggled to crawl just to reach for his phone.

Perhaps the universe saw how helpless he was that he was granted exceptional luck: he had managed to call for help before his hand lost all power, dropping his phone as darkness clouded his vision.

***

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A/N: Please leave a like or comment if you enjoy reading this fic. It motivates me to write faster. Thank you ~~

[morganski-19]

With All My Love

ao3 link if you don't want to read this on here.

One

It started with silence. Husk was never one to speak unless he had something to say. But when Angel came home from one of his many shifts, he always had something to poke at. Something to push and pry. Get a rise out of Angel and make him admit that he needed someone to talk to. That something was wrong. 

Truthfully, something was wrong. It was always wrong when he came home from a shift, tired and bruised. Makeup a little heavier than when he left, depending on how the day went. 

Today was too different. And then the day bled into night, and Angel felt the pull on his bones to go to a club. To drown himself in alcohol and coke, or something stronger, just to feel the haze start to erase his mind. Find some guy who wanted to fuck him, because most of them did anyway, just so that the last person who touched him wasn’t Valentino. 

Maybe then, he would be able to sleep a bit better. 

But instead, he went home. His new home where he was trying to be better, trying to change. To be a person that looked in the mirror and didn’t hate what he saw. He went home with a fresh bruise around his eye, already starting to purple, and his limbs so exhausted they might just fall off the bone. But he was still ready for the accusations of the man standing behind the bar. 

Except they never came. 

Instead, his drink was already poured and placed at his seat at the bar. The condensation just beginning to form on the glass, waiting for him. And he didn’t even have to ask.

Angel sits down, taking a sip. The faint taste of alcohol rests on his tongue before he swallows. He’s tempted to ask for something stronger. Something to wipe his mind off the day he just had. But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he looks at Husk and feels everything start to fade away. The man just cleaning glasses, putting them away softly. Waiting for Angel to say the first word between them. Waiting for Angel to choose to speak. 

Giving Angel a chance to breathe. 

“Not going to say anything, Whiskers?” Angel teases, trying to get under the other’s skin. Still unsure of what is slowly blooming between them. 

When Husk turns his face and looks at Angel for the first time since he left this morning, Angel’s breath can’t help but stutter. And his heart stopped like he almost died again. 

“What do you want me to say?” Husk replies in his low, uncaring voice. Even though Angel was starting to see right through it. 

Angel huffed. “Well, normally you have somethin’ to say whenever I get home.”

“Well,” Husk leans on the bar, “sometimes ‘normally’ changes. And you looked like you didn’t want to talk, so I didn't say anything. But if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

Angel’s mouth is suddenly dry. 

The dynamic between the two of them shifted some time ago, and Angel couldn't pinpoint it. Maybe it was a few months ago when Angel went out and Husk was the one who came looking. Maybe it was the time Cherri brought them out and Angel said no to the pills. Or maybe it was right before the battle when all Angel wanted to do was sit and talk to Husk. And the look that he knew painted his face as soon as Husk looked away. 

The same face he felt the want to make now. 

But now, he was tired. He felt used. His body was calling for sleep, and Angel knew he needed to go to bed. To his cold, empty bed. 

Swallowing the rest of his drink, he stands. Takes a moment to bring the rest of his strength to his legs enough so he can walk up the stairs. 

“Thanks for the drink, Husk,” Angel says with a slight yawn. Too tired to talk with his persona, so he just talks. “Night.”

“Have a good night,” Husk says while Angel walks away. Each word pulling him back to his bar seat. Where he could talk to Husk for hours, or just sit there in the other’s safe company.

As he walks towards the stairs, Angel feels the familiar tingle underneath his skin that lets him know he’s being watched. Only this time, he doesn’t mind it. Doesn’t feel pressured to put on a show. 

Instead, he turns back and looks, catching Husk’s eyes for just a second before the other man turns away. A smile finds its way to Angel’s face and stays there until he finally falls asleep. 

Two

“But I don’t want to marry the boring old duke,” the dead roach in Nifty’s hand says in the high-pitched voice it’s been designated. “He’s too boring.”

“Well that’s too bad,” the other roach with a much deeper voice grumbles. “You have to for the family.”

The roach puppet shows are always something new. Angel was a bit disturbed by it all at first, but when the TV breaks down as much as it does, there’s only so much entertainment. And if he was being honest, Nifty scared him, but he would never admit that. 

But it made her happy, and kept him out of the stabbing line, so he watched. Laughed even. Enjoyed himself with people he grew to care about. Was able to let loose for a while. 

Husk even joined in for this show on the couch instead of behind the bar. He was grumbling about being forced to care about this shit, but everyone knew it was just a facade. 

Deep down, old Husker was a big softie. And Angel liked him for it. Liked the way he got to tease him about it. 

Just for a second, Angel shifts his head under the ruse of fixing his hair, looking at Husk to his left. Just sitting with his arms crossed and a smirk resting on his face. At peace. Calm. 

It was moments like these that Angel enjoyed the most. Where they could pretend that their lives were normal and the fate of their existence wasn’t constantly up in the air. Where the chain wrapped around Angel’s neck was looser, and Husk’s was too as long as Alastor didn’t need them. 

They could be free for a moment. A brief fleeting moment, but it still felt amazing. 

Angel ends up staring a bit too long, and Husk turns to catch Angel’s eye before he quickly turns away. Feeling a faint flush bloom in his cheeks, as if he was embarrassed. 

Angel Dust doesn’t get embarrassed, not like this. He’s brash and flirtatious. Made every sex joke in the book, and every sex act in the book. Was the first to talk and fast to spit back the next line. He was great at improvising shit. But he didn’t want to improvise this. 

Husk shifts beside him. Moving his arms so that one rests on the arm of the couch, holding his head, while the other rests in between his and Angel’s legs. Lightly brushing against Angel’s lower hand, lying open facing upwards. 

It’s so soft that Angel would normally brush it off, but can’t. The first brush is an accident, the second is a coincidence, the third is purposeful. Especially with the gentle press against Angel’s finger. Like Husk is telling him that his hand is resting between them for a reason. 

Angel looks down, watches as the finger stays still. It did what it needed to do, got Angel’s attention. After that, it was all up to Angel for what happened. Husk wasn’t going to push, not with this. 

Gently, Angel slides his hand into Husk’s. Letting their fingers lock into place. With his lower hand, as the upper two are crossed over his chest. He may not be afraid of the spotlight, but sometimes things are best kept a secret. Silent. 

Most of the things Husk does are quiet. Silent judging from behind the bar, simple smiles or smirks. He wasn’t one for big shows of affection, or anything really. On the outside, Husk was a man who cared about nothing other than booze and the cards in his hand. But on the inside, Husk cared more than he liked to admit. 

And he cared about Angel. 

So much so that he didn’t pull his hand away when Angel interlocked their fingers. Instead, he just gave it a squeeze, gently rubbing his thumb against Angel’s. Silent, simple, and sincere. 

Nifty’s maniacal laughter brings Angel’s attention back to the roach show he was supposed to be paying attention to. 

“And then, because she was forced to marry the very boring duke, she stabbed him in the chest while he was sleeping,” Nifty yells, no longer pretending to play with the roaches and fully just stabbing the duke with a sharp needle. 

“Fucking Christ,” Angel mumbles. “That got dark.”

Husk chuckles. “Yeah well, it’s Nifty, what did you expect?”

“I’m not sure.”

Three

“And then I said, ‘If you like him so much, go ask him out on a date,’ and he got so mad his entire screen of a face glitches. Like he actually glitched out like a fuckin’ broken TV,” Angel laughs. 

Husk lets out a low chuckle, cleaning up Angel’s latest empty glass. “Overlord’s and their shitty tempers.”

“Literally. And then Val gets all pissy just because I offended his boyfriend. It was worth it though just to see the sick fuck go off on a tirade. The shoot ended early cause Val needed to do damage control or some shit.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re bugging me this early in the day. Normally I get a few hours of peace before you defile the bar with your presence.”

Angel props his head up with his hands. “Aww Husky, and here I thought you were starting to like me.”

“And what if I was,” Husk asks, looking Angel up and down. 

Blood rushes to Angel’s cheeks. He’s used to being hit on. Used to being the object of desire. But just that, an object. Angel Dust was who the people wanted. The persona, the whore. All things that Angel usually prided himself on. He did like sex after all. 

But this was different. When people hit on him, they wanted something. He knew that, they knew that. It was all just a ruse to get him into bed and sleep with the famous porn star. Didn’t matter if Angel was left broken afterward, or if he was too drugged or high to remember who it was. It was purely physical. That’s all Angel was used to. 

This wasn’t physical. Whenever Husk gave it back after one of Angel’s lines, it was real. Husk didn’t bullshit. He gave it straight, not caring what others thought of him. Always said his opinion, not caring if anyone asked to hear it. It wasn’t easy to get on his good side. Until it was. 

Until Husk looked at him with those eyes after saying a line that was geared to make Angel pounce. But instead, it just melts everything inside of him to a useless fucking puddle on the ground. Leaving him vulnerable and defenseless. But he didn’t care, because Husk made Angel feel something again. Something real instead of just pure pain. 

Part of him was terrified. It’s been so long since he felt like this, and the last time he did left him fucking broken in more ways than he could count. He should be cautious, should run away. Lock himself in the deep confines of his mind and let Angel Dust take over again. Ruin all of his progress just to get high and forget all over again. 

But the other part of him wants to reach out. Grab the thing that it’s always wanted, but never got to have. Finally find a way to break free of the chains and live the life that he wanted to. That he chose. Angel was born into a certain life that he couldn’t get out of, and was bound by a contract in his afterlife. 

Maybe just this once, Angel would get to choose something that would end up making him happy. 

“Well,” Angel says. “That would just mean there’s a big softie behind all that fluff.”

Husk huffs, rolling his eyes, mixing a drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you say so.” Angel watched Husk pour the drink into a glass. “That looks like a fruity drink ya got there. Not normally your style.”

“No, it’s not,” Husk laughs. “That’s because it’s not for me.” He places the drink in front of Angel, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pours a drink for himself. 

Angel stares at the drink in front of him. “I-. How did you know this is what I wanted? I didn’t ask for it.”

“You went to work so you wanted something strong to begin with to cool down but the day wasn’t terrible and you’re in a good mood right now, so you want to switch to something more flavorful on the tongue,” Husk rattles off as if it’s nothing. “Am I right?”

Angel feels as if he can’t move. Heart pounding in his ears with something that feels like panic. Like his shell was ripped away and he’s left defenseless and raw. Open for anyone to see what hides inside. 

And Husk is just waiting for a response as if this wasn’t a whole psychoanalyzed therapist situation. Like he didn’t just read Angel perfectly in a way no one has before. Or in a way that he ever wanted. 

The walls threaten to rebuild, the mask already halfway down his face. He has to remind himself that this was Husk. Husk was safe. He wouldn’t play with Angel’s mind, with his emotions. He wasn’t a psychopath freak. He cares. 

Husk knowing Angel wasn’t a bad thing, so Angel shouldn’t make it a bad thing. 

“Yeah,” Angel whispers, mouth dry. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

He takes a sip of the drink, almost tipping it higher to throw it back in one gulp. Get on with it so he can stop feeling so vulnerable. So known. But when the sweet taste of the drink hits his tongue, with the slight tinge of the strong alcohol that can’t quite get covered up, it doesn’t betray him. If anything, it’s better than the hundreds of drinks he’s had like this before. Because someone knew him enough to know exactly what he wanted before he could say it, and it was right. 

It wasn’t an assumption that was harmful or wrong. Wasn’t one that put pressure on Angel to say yes to. It was a simple drink with nothing attached. Nothing hidden inside. Nothing in the space between the lines. 

Angel takes another sip, reveling in the taste of it. In the experience. Husk continues the conversation, saying something that makes Angel laugh. Really laugh. The kind that makes eyes water and lungs heave. 

And for the first time, Angel doesn’t feel afraid of being known. Not if he’s being known like this. 

Four

Angel wakes up to Fat Nuggets rubbing gently against his face. A small beam of light came through his open blinds illuminating his room. Soft sheets tangled around his limbs as sleep calls to him again. 

Gently shooing away Fat Nuggets, Angel rolls over, Untangling the sheets and pulling them up to his chin. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table before closing his eyes again. Only for the time to register as his eyes fly open. 

“Fuck, it’s ten,” he whispers to himself, one of his hands running through his hair. Charlie never lets him sleep this late, not on days when there are seminars and lessons. Picking up his phone, he checks the shared calendar for the hotel. There was definitely supposed to be an activity this morning.

Charlie’s never late. And never misses his absence. If he didn’t wake up himself, she wasn’t far behind to burst into his room along with the harsh light from the hallway. Why was he allowed to sleep this late? Undisturbed?

Not that he’s complaining, really. For the first time in a while, he actually feels refreshed. Looks like it too, without any help from his makeup bag. And if no one has come to get him yet, he might as well make the best of it. 

Getting up from his bed, he notices a piece of paper that was slipped under his door. Picking it up, he reads the note.

Convinced Charlie to give the hotel a day off and let you sleep. Take a bath or some shit. 

-Husk

Angels smiles to himself, laughing a little. Places the note on his dresser before walking to the bathroom. Bringing a set of comfortable clothes with him. 

He washes his face, does his hair. Everything he normally does but slower, more carefree. He has time in the morning for once. He savors it. Gets dressed in a sweatshirt and soft shorts. Puts on less makeup than normal. Relaxes. Because he can. 

He spies the note on his dresser again. Picking it up and reading it again. Angel hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Like his heart was lighter in his chest. Like everything felt lighter. Even the corners of his lips rise without him telling them to. A stupid smile forms, he knows. But he lets it stay. Real things deserve to stay. 

Walking over to his mirror, he takes a piece of tape and sticks the note to the side among the other pictures. He doesn’t really know why. Just that it needed to be there. And if it happened to be underneath a picture that Angel forced Husk to take with him, that was his business. 

When he does go downstairs, there is laughter coming from the living room. Charlie and Vaggie sit on the couch watching a movie. Nifty is running around chasing bugs. Alastor is fuck knows where but that’s not important. 

What is important is Husk standing behind the bar like he always is. Cleaning some glasses that are probably already clean just to bide time. He didn’t have to work today, Charlie gave them a day off. Which should include Husk. But there he is waiting behind the bar for Angel. Like he always is. 

Husk sees him approaching and smiles at him, even if Angel knows he tried not to. “Thought I wasn’t going to see you till noon,” Husk comments as Angel takes a seat. 

“Thought about it, but then I wouldn’t be here talking with you.” Angel rests his head on his hand. “Thank you.”

Husk looks down at the bar, a little sheepish. There might even be a blush behind all that fur. “What for?”

Angel laughs. “If you wanted to stay anonymous, you shouldn’t have left a note.”

“That would be a dead ringer,” Husk snorts. “There’s still some breakfast left if you’re hungry.”

“Only if you come eat some with me. I don’t like to eat alone,” Angel flirts. It wasn’t exactly untrue, he does prefer to eat with other people around. Just doesn’t most of the time. “You said Charlie gave the hotel a day off, that should include you, Whiskers.” He reaches across the bar to poke Husk’s nose. 

Husk swats his hand away. “Not exactly how that works. I work here.”

“So,” Angel questions, determined to give him some time off too. 

“Just how it is,” Husk shrugs, going back to cleaning glasses. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Angel turns, looking toward the living room. “Hey Charlie,” he calls out, “Can Husk have the day off too?”

“Absolutely,” Charlie beams. “We all have the day off today, including the lovely staff.”

“See,” Angel gloats, turning back to Husk. “So unless you really don’t want to have breakfast with me, you are out of excuses, Husky.”

Husk sighs, finishing the glass he was polishing and placing it back on the shelf. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he starts to leave the bar. “Aren’t you coming?”

Angel can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “You can say this is my payback, for this morning.” He walks with Husk to the kitchen. 

“Don’t have to pay me back, it was nothing.”

“Oh my fucking god, can’t let me say thank you, can you? You did somethin’ nice for me let me thank you for it.”

Husk smirks. “No.”

Five

Angel isn’t quite sure how he’s still standing. He can’t feel his legs, having become numb halfway through his shift and stayed that way since then. His arms fall limp at his sides, barely able to reach the door handle when he gets to the hotel. 

This is a new for him. He is never this sore. Never this tired. Never this used. Today was excruciating, to say the least. Val was pissed about something and took it out on him. Like normal. Like always. But this time was worse. It just keeps getting worse. 

There was a time when Angel liked his job. Liked the attention it gave him. The money. The fame. But now all of that is a sick reminder of the permanency of ink-stained paper. And a name that is no longer his. 

Now, he comes home bone tired and ready to crash for a millennium. But harsh reality comes in each morning in the form of a wake-up call and breakfast that he can barely stomach. He wants to just sleep. Hoping that when he wakes up he’s able to wash what happened to him away in the shower. Knowing that it’s all just going to happen again. And again. Forever. 

Last week’s surprise was a blessing. Getting more than five hours of sleep, feeling refreshed. He hoped the same miracle would come tomorrow. With another note under his door that makes him feel like everything doesn’t suck. That tells him that someone does actually care about him. 

Somehow that was possible. Somehow Husk could look at all the ways Angel was fucked up and still decide that he deserved another glance. Angel knows he doesn’t deserve it. There was so much better out there than him. With everything that was broken, not able to be fixed. He was damaged goods and knew what that meant. 

The door doesn’t even shut before Angel falls into it, slamming it closed. His legs shake as he tries to stay standing, trying to push himself off the door. Eyes spying the stairs that taunt him. Will take everything out of him. Just one flight between him and his bed. Where the satin sheets can cover up the marks that will be bruises, and the tears can fall where no one sees. 

All he has to do is climb the stairs. 

He takes a trembling step forward, coming into the light of the hotel. A few more steps and his knees buckle. He starts to fall. But gray flashes before his eyes and suddenly he isn’t falling anymore. Warm arms wrap around his torso, holding him upright. 

“Come on,” Husk mumbles, throwing Angel’s right arms over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Angel has a line waiting at the tip of his tongue, but doesn’t have the energy to say it. Or to protest the idea of being helped. When he’s fully upright again, he leans all he can on Husk, feeling the slight relief of less weight on his feet. 

The stairs prove as difficult as Angel thought they would be, but he doesn’t fall. Husk doesn’t let him. He almost picks Angel up entirely in order to get them both up the stairs. Angel almost lets him. 

When they reach Angel’s room, Husk opens the door and carefully walks them through the doorway. Fat Nuggets runs up to them, rubbing at Angel’s leg when he senses that something’s wrong. 

Husk leads Angel to the bed, pulling back the sheets before helping Angel lay down. There’s part of Angel’s mind that has a blaring siren. A warning that things are going to turn bad as soon as the door closes. But this is Husk. He hasn’t hurt Angel yet, he wouldn’t start now. 

“You need help getting changed?” Husk asks gently, placing a glass of water on Angel’s bedside table. 

Angel tries to ignore what that means when other people say it. Just focusing on what it means when Husk does. “Just, just help me get the jacket off. And the boots.” 

The room is still dark, so Husk can’t see what lies underneath. The marks, the faint bruises still left on his skin. Part of the job, for most of them. But some of them, they’re damning. But even if the light was on, Angel had a feeling that Husk wouldn’t say anything about them right now. He’d ask later, let Angel decide if he wanted to share or not. He can tell that tonight has already been enough.

Husk helps him sit up, undoing the buttons on the front of his jacket. Gently sliding the fabric off his arms, leaving him bare. Taking off his boots next, leaving him in his socks. Angel points him to the drawer in his dresser that holds the soft shirts he likes to sleep in. 

There’s something intimate about this moment. Being taken care of without any pretenses or conditions. By someone who cares more deeply than they’d like to admit. Even being here in this moment is something that wouldn’t have happened a few months ago. The walls each of them built over time started to lower together. And it led to this. 

As the fabric gets pulled over his head, and onto his upper pair of arms, Angel feels safe. Safe with another person seeing him like this. Without a camera in sight, or payment in the end. That all stops the second his eyes meet Husks. When he starts to feel love for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 

It hits Angel like a truck when Husk helps him lay down in his bed. Angel loves him. He didn’t even know if that was possible anymore. After the last time he fell in love went to shit, he swore it off all together. Determined that anyone that would ever spare him a second glance would want one thing and then fuck out of his life forever. 

But here Angel is completely defenseless, and Husk doesn’t make him feel like he is. It might be common decency, and his bar for romance might be six feet under, but that face makes his heart pound faster than it ever has. With a singular word, Husk would stop what he’s doing and leave. Angel doesn’t want him to, though. He very much does not want him to. 

The sheets are draped over Angel’s shoulders, covering him in warmth. Sleep calls to him, his eyes almost closing when his head finally hits the pillow. He needs to say something before he can sleep. 

“Wait,” Angel says, reaching out to grab Husk’s arm when he turns to leave. “Stay, please.” 

Angel doesn’t like to be alone on nights like this. Before he moved to the hotel, Cherri would sneak in through the window and stay with him. Lay next to him when he cried after the high wore off and the hurt set in. Now was different, he was sober, for what it was worth. It only made the hurt worse, though. 

The only reason why he isn’t crying right now is because he’s too tired for the tears to form. For the anger to bubble and the rage to set in. To want to find a way to go over to Val’s stupid fucking studio and rip the wings off his chest and put a million bullets through his head. He can’t, but he wants to. 

But he still wants another person here when he falls asleep. Extra protection. For his body and his mind. If that person was specifically Husk, it shouldn’t matter that much. Yet it did. He was in love for Christ’s sake. Even if it wasn’t reciprocated, he wanted to pretend like it was. To feel safe with someone for just another moment. To go to sleep thinking that hell might be heaven enough for them. 

Husk doesn’t say another word, but walks around the bed. Angel rolls over with a wince and holds the covers up for him, letting him know that it was ok. The bed dips when Husk lays down, keeping a small distance between them. Angel wants it gone, but that could be a later issue. 

Right now, his eyes finally shut as he finally falls asleep.

+One

Warmth radiates beside Angel when he starts to wake up. Comforting warmth. Such a drastic difference from the cold sheets that greet him each morning. Enough to pull him back to sleep. Comfortable sleep. 

Angel moves closer to the warmth. He falls back asleep. 

When he wakes up again, his eyes blink open fully this time. Confused at the textured feeling under his hand. Running his fingers through what feels like fur, the events of last night come back to the forefront of his mind. His eyes finally meet Husk’s sleeping face. 

It’s so peaceful. So quiet. Other than the heavy breaths and gentle snores. A smile finds Angel’s face as he takes it all in. He feels so safe it’s crazy. And so many other things that he can barely name. Mushy, mostly. 

He takes his hand and brings it up to Husk’s face, brushing past his cheek and gently scratching at the side of his neck. Husk makes a sound, scaring Angel into thinking that he woke up. But he just lays his head back down and his heavy breaths resume. This time with a slight purr. 

It’s stupid how much this makes Angel feel. How soft he feels. Finally knowing what all of those love songs were talking about. He thought them stupid back when he was alive, even more so when he was dead. It was all fake, too good to be true. But good and true were synonymous now. There’s no mistaking it anymore. 

Peaceful, is all Angel can think. He didn’t know love was supposed to be this peaceful. It never seemed like it was. With the screaming matches his parents would have, and the way people treated him. Love never seemed this way. 

He’s sure that there will be moments where it won’t feel peaceful. Where he’ll mess up and cause an argument, defenses raised. Knowing how he can be when he’s upset. When he feels broken and unfixable. Husk’s already seen some of it, back when Angel didn’t care about him like this. Husk ever held him against it. Letting that moment be in the past. Even in the moment, Husk didn’t make Angel feel lesser, only equal. 

“I love you,” Angel whispers in the dark. Not even realizing that the words slipped out of his mouth. Needing to say the words somewhere other than his head in order to make them feel real. 

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it. Or if Husk even feels the same. There’s something between them, he can feel it. But this. This is so much more than attraction. So much more than a drunken night or tangled sheets. Angel wants more than the physical this time. Without even knowing what the physical is. They’ve never even kissed, let alone anything else. 

Yet, he feels so sure about this. So fucking sure it scares him. 

“I love you, too,” Husk whispers back, his eyes opening slightly. 

Angel pulls back his hand in shock, fear filling his head. “What?”

Husk’s wings stretch out in a flutter as he lets out a yawn. “I said I love you.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Angel says in disbelief, not registering what Husk had said. 

Husk laughs. “I wasn’t really, could still hear you.”

Angel rolls onto his back, burying his face in all four of his hands. “Fucking hell, this is so embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?” Husk props himself up on his arm. 

“Because I only said what I said because I thought you were asleep. Now you’re awake and probably thinking I’m this fucking idiot and whatever friendship we had is now fucking ruined because I opened my stupid fucking mouth. Cause you don’t feel the same. How could you when I’m such a broken fucking mess? I just-. Just don’t hate me, please. I can’t lose you just because I was stupid.”

Angel doesn’t look at Husk until he starts laughing. Full on laughing, dropping down onto the bed and rubbing his hands down his face. A flush finds Angel’s face, and embarrassment fills him as he turns his head away. Making him want to curl up and make himself smaller. 

Bearing his soul to another person wasn’t easy, but it was easier when it was Husk. Now he’s shared one of the most vulnerable things anyone can, and Husk is laughing at him. 

“I get I was an idiot, but you don’t have to laugh at me like that, asshole.” Angel sits up, pulling his legs close to his chest and resting his chin on his knee. 

“No,” Husk gets out between laughs. “No, no, that’s not why I’m laughing. Did you hear what I said at all?”

He knew Husk said something, but didn’t pay attention. Too riddled with shock and embarrassment for anything to register. “No,” he admits, sheepish.

Husk sits up and Angel can feel his gaze. “Angel, could you look at me for a second?”

Angel turns his head, not sure what he’s expecting. But Husk’s face is so soft, so gentle. Looking at Angel with admiration instead of disgust. Like Angel’s something special instead of a piece of broken glass left on the ground. Without trying, his heart starts to beat a little faster and there’s the tight pull of nerves at his stomach. He doesn’t feel like he ruined anything anymore. 

“I said that I love you. All of you. Everything that you think is broken and everything that I know isn’t,” Husk says like he means it. Like this isn’t just some big joke. 

“You love me?” Angel whispers, waiting for the other shoe to drop and the curtain to come crashing down. No one can say those words and truly mean them. No one has. Even if his heart is telling him that this is true, his brain convinces him that it’s fake. 

Husk shifts closer to Angel, gently pulling Angel’s hands away from his legs. Breaking down his defenses. The touch so gentle, so nondemanding. He’s not asking for anything other than Angel to understand. To tell the voice in his head whispering it’s a trap to shut up. There’s no pressure behind the movements. No expectations. 

“I love you,” Husk states, like it’s some fact in a history book. Taking his hands and cupping Angel’s face, brushing a stray strand of hair up out of the way. “And I’ll say it as many times as it takes you to believe it.”

Angel forgot what it felt like to have something like this. Where the sparks are so bright they’re almost visible. Tension so thick not even the sharpest blade could cut through it. Both people in it just as much as the other. With nothing else behind the words they said. Just pure truth. 

A soft smile forms on Angel’s face. And if a small line of tears formed in his eyes, no one mentioned it. “I love you, too.”

Husk for the first time in what feels like forever, is left speechless. Mouth opening and closing, like he’s trying to say something but nothing comes. Instead, the softest smile forms on his face. Like Angel just did something that was worth the world to Husk. 

He doesn’t understand it. With the way Husk was, it was easy to love him. No one ever wanted to see past the persona enough to actually care about Angel. That’s all Husk wanted to do. Everything else paired with that, it was easy to fall. Angel on the other hand, he’s harder to deal with. Loving him is harder. 

It doesn’t feel like it anymore. Not with the way Husk holds him like he doesn’t believe it’s real. Expression is rich with disbelief. Maybe he too was scared that this was never going to happen. That someone could never love him for the way he is. 

Being honest with himself, Angel knows that Husk isn’t perfect. The same ways that he isn’t perfect either. They both have their vices. Their reasons why they’re here. But despite all of that, they found each other. Someone who can understand better than anyone else in the hotel. Maybe even in Hell. 

Angel takes his hand and cups Husk’s face. Revels in the way Husk presses into the touch. Using the others, he pulls Husk closer, letting their foreheads meet. Letting this moment be this moment and not pushing for anything else. Even if he wanted to, they had time. 

Husk takes a deep breath, still a part of him not believing this is real. Angel’s feeling the same. Pulling back, Husk looks at Angel studying his face. Eyes drifting down to his lips before jumping back to his eyes. Angel does the same, nodding slowly. 

When their lips meet, it’s nothing that Angel’s ever experienced before. He’s kissed a lot of people, but never like this. Never where his love was truly reciprocated. Where there’s no pushing in the motion, using it as a key to something else. The other person wanting only this and nothing else. 

It’s refreshing. All of this is. 

[recurring-polynya]

Hi! I know you don't write her very often, but I love your Unohana. I don't know if this is an extra scene request, exactly, but re: your Renji joins squad 4 au, you've mentioned that he's probably seen Unohana's bankai. How would that even go down, and how unhinged would Unohana get? In this au, does Renji ever learn more about Unohana or does she just skirt around the topic forever? (If this is a no go then no need to publish, or, heck, even if it's fine I'm a nervous wreck just sending this)

I really did try to stick to the prompt this time, but it ended up being more about what Unohana knows about Renji, instead of the other way around. Thanks, queen who gives us nothing!! Anyway, here you go, just a lil story about a very normal relationship between a guy and his very hinged captain.

| read on ao3 |

(This takes place between Part 1 and Part 2) TW: Blood. Lots.

💀 ⚔️ 🩸

Unohana Retsu looked on, gently, but attentively, as her Fifth Seat poured her a cup of tea.

He had hands that were meant to grip a sword. Long fingered, knobbly knuckled, criss-crossed with scars, not a few of which she had given him herself. Nevertheless, his pour was steady, graceful, even.

"I know that you and Third Seat Kira are friends," she said, "so I suspect you've already heard the news."

Fifth Seat Abarai waited until he had placed the teapot back on the tray before responding.

"About his offer from the Third?"

Retsu nodded. "He told me this morning that he had accepted it."

Abarai nodded back, as if he was confirming the information to himself. "He told me he was gonna. I wouldn't--" He stopped himself and cleared his throat before continuing. "It's not a position I think I would like, but he seems excited about it."

"It's been wonderful having him here," Retsu observed, "but I've known for a long time that the Fourth wasn't a home for him."

Abarai's brows furrowed momentarily. Retsu wondered if he objected to this characterization of Kira, or if perhaps he was pondering a different unstated implication. "I guess you don't want me to try to talk him out of it, then." Or maybe he was just trying to figure out what any of this had to do with him.

Retsu took a sip of her tea. It was too hot, slightly oversteeped and worst of all, had a strange phantom sweetness to it. How?? They were her own tea leaves. She had watched him brew it. How did he do it? She placed her teacup back down on the table again. "I want you to take his seat."

Abarai blinked at her for a moment, owlish behind his thick-rimmed glasses. "Can't, ma'am. I haven't passed my Level 12 Kaidou Certification. Third Seat has to be able to run the Relief Station if you and Lieutenant Kotetsu get called away. And I don't think you should make an exception for me. Not for this."

The Fourth Division had a rigid set of exams and certifications that qualified its members for various positions. Retsu was not in the habit of granting exemptions generally, but Abarai wasn't the sort of person that rules were made for.

He was hardly her first involuntary transfer. Retsu was all-too aware of her squad's reputation as a dumping ground for underperforming shinigami. In his first three months at the Fourth, Abarai had cast zero kaidou, avoided three-quarters of his medical shifts, and submitted sixty-two transfer requests (Retsu still sometimes wondered about four that had come in on the same day. She never asked him about it. It must have been a Hell of a Tuesday.)

Exactly one month after she made him a deal--if he actually started trying, she would arrange for Isane to give him swordfighting lessons, and promised to transfer him if he was still unhappy at the end of a year--Twelfth Seat Aoga came to her and in a hushed voice told he that he thought Abarai might be a prodigy.

"Prodigy" wasn't exactly the right word for it. Abarai was just good with bones. Aside from herself, Retsu had four medics who could perform a full skeletal reconstruction, all senior officers, brilliant surgeons with distinguished tenures. Now, she had a fifth who couldn't otherwise heal a skinned knee. Everything he did was like that, though, backwards and out of sorts. He was excellent at chest compressions and setting bones and anything that required physical strength, but he struggled with the basic healing spells most people learned at the Academy. Long before he could do an anesthetic or antiseptic kaidou, the trauma surgeons were squabbling over him, simply because he was an incredible battery. When he couldn't get the hang of the common cold relief kaidou, he dug up one of Kirinji's horrible old techniques from somewhere in the depths of the library. It had been developed for highly infectious diseases that shinigami sometimes brought back from the deep Rukon and involved using your own immune system to turbo-charge the patient's. (Retsu had forbidden its use because there was a high probability of fatal backslash on the healer. Abarai usually just ran a high fever for a day or two afterward.)

That was all years ago, though. Abarai had grown into a perfectly competent healer. He wasn't the fastest or the most delicate, and his flesh healing still had a tendency to leave scars, but if there was one thing he excelled at, it was keeping people alive. No one could figure out exactly how he did it, or replicate his technique, but he was exceptionally good at pulling people back from the brink.

The real reason, though, she'd started giving him the exceptions that let him take on shift supervisor roles before he had the healing qualifications, was that Abarai was a natural leader in exactly the way that many of her subordinates were not. He had steel nerves. He was decisive in a crisis. He had a loud voice and people listened to him.

But shift supervisor wasn't the same as Third Seat.

"I agree," she said. "But I think you can get that certification. You've come a long way since we made our deal, Fifth Seat Abarai."

Abarai's cheeks colored, and he took a quick slug of his tea to cover his embarrassment. "I think I've pretty well held up my end of that bargain," he managed with a sheepish grin. "Level 12 Kaidou certification seems a little beyond what I agreed to."

"You have already gone quite far past what you agreed to," Retsu acknowledged. "But why stop now? You're hoping to make vice-captain yourself someday, aren't you?" She didn't point out that he was perfectly capable of passing the vice-captain's exam any time he chose to take it. He must be aware of this; he'd spent the better part of a year helping Kira through his own preparations.

Retsu chanced another sip of the tea while she waited for him to answer. It had not improved.

Abarai sucked his teeth for a long moment, then sighed in defeat. "There's a self-healing portion on the Level 12. I can't do it. I've tried and tried, but I got nothing. Can't heal a single scratch if it's on my body. Ask Kira, he's given up on me."

Retsu stared at him in amazement. "That can't be true. Everyone knows that your healing system--"

Abarai shook his head and shrugged expansively. "It's all involuntary. I'm a fast healer, but I got nothing to do with it. No kaidou involved."

Impossible. Abarai wasn't just a fast healer. His recovery ability, both in speed and magnitude, was a topic of hot speculation among her top officers. The very specific circumstances where his kaidou was above average were generally attributed to some form of leveraging off his own natural talents. She herself, who was quite familiar with his zanpakutou, had long assumed that it had a secondary healing aspect. Nevertheless, she had also assumed--

"Last week," she said, more curtly than she had intended, "when the Eleventh's Third Seat put his spear through your shoulder--"

"I mean, I cleaned it and bandaged it," Abarai admitted it. "Then I just slept it off."

And had been on shift eight hours later. Retsu closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "What do you do after our spars, Fifth Seat? That thigh wound I gave you last time. The one you said 'only looked bad.'"

"Oh, yeah. That was a poor judgment on my part. Kira and I were sposed to go out later, though, so he. Uh. Found me passed out from blood loss in the hallway and gave me a patch-up. I woulda woken up eventually, if he hadn't! My body is very good at making blood!"

Retsu gathered her inner serenity. Abarai was not, by far, the most worrisome of her officers, but she had to worry about him in very different ways than her other officers. "Don't you find it strange," she said slowly, "that you have so much natural ability at healing, and yet you're unable to take control of the process yourself? That's all it is--a matter of mind over reishi."

Abarai's eyes clouded, and he looked away. "I know. It should be. But it's certainly not the first time something about my healing doesn't make any damn sense."

"That's not true," Retsu reminded him. "Everything about your healing makes sense. For you." She knew he didn't like it when she brought these things up. He was more willing to talk to Isane about feelings-related things, and Retsu was usually content to leave it between the two of them. But there were times where more directness was necessary. "It's a mental block, most likely."

"It's quite common to not be able to heal yourself, actually," Abarai prattled back emptily, a notch too loud, as though he hadn't heard her at all. "Most people got something or other they just can't do, right? That's why that 12th level certification is so rare! But you know who does have one?"

Retsu narrowed her eyes at him. Of course she knew.

"I'm sure Fourth Seat Iemura's been looking forward to Kira leaving for a long time," Abarai went on. "He'd be pretty mad at me for leap-frogging him, I think." As if Abarai didn't drive Fourth Seat Iemura to the edge of apoplexy on a daily basis, primarily by the mere crime of existing. "Besides," he said, sincerity returning to his voice, along with a slight edge of desperation, "now's not a good time for me to be thinking about exams. I'm so close to bankai, I can almost touch it. I know it."

Retsu knew it, as well. And she knew that his goals were not her goals. His earlier point had been well made--he had been more than fair to her.

"I understand," she said. "I have been thinking about that, as well, you know. There's a special training I have been considering, but I wasn't sure you were ready to get serious about it."

Abarai's eyes widened. "Really? I mean--I am! I really am! I'm ready!"

Retsu smiled sweetly at him. "In that case…when is your next day off?"

💀 ⚔️ 🩸

Abarai was quiet from the time they left the eastern gate of the Seireitei shortly after dawn on Saturday morning. Isane and Kira both had a habit of getting very chatty about nature whenever Retsu took them out of the city to train. It wasn't just the lack of conversation, though. Straining her ears, Retsu could still barely hear Abarai's footfalls. Despite his size, the leaves and branches rustled no more at his passing than at her own.

It was easy to think of him as a city boy. After decades in the Seireitei, Abarai's accent had been worn down to an occasional colorful expression, although it occasionally flared back to life when he was putting an unruly patient from the Eleventh in their place. He knew every street of the Seireitei, though, could name every player on the city football team. He was generally a cheerful and boisterous presence around the Coordinated Relief Station. You tended to hear him before you saw him.

Retsu knew as well as anyone, though, that you could change yourself on the outside, but you never really lost the old versions of yourself. You just covered them over, like an oyster creating a pearl. And she knew well what lay at the center of Abarai's soul. She had been to the deepest depths of the Rukon. Places where reality became thin, where time looped back on itself. Most Souls didn't survive long there, and those that did were…something else.

Abarai had grown up at the frayed edge of Soul Society. Still within the borders. Still in a place that resembled civilization, she reminded herself. He was the soul of a human child who had died and taught himself survive against all odds, a soul who had learned to move silently through the woods and chose to fight with tooth and claw for every drop of blood in his body. He wasn't a monster-boy created out of the bloody, ragged edges of Soul Society itself, the love of fighting made into the shape of a person. He just reminded her of one sometimes.

The sun was high in the sky when Retsu found a place that she felt would do. A wide, grassy clearing was ringed by a stand of stately pines. They were tall, but the trees were still young by the standards of Soul Society. Younger than her. She and Abarai set their packs off to one side, took a drink of water, did some stretches.

"You said we were doing something special?" Abarai asked as they lay on their backs, each hugging one knee to their chest.

"Hmm," said Retsu, switching legs. "Maybe that was a lie."

He turned his head to look at her.

"An exaggeration," she clarified. "It's not that special. We're just going to fight."

He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not buying this.

"You've already done most of the preparatory work," she explained. "You're strong enough. You've fully mastered your shikai. You can externalize your zanpakutou spirit." She stretched both legs out in front of her and sat up. "All that is left is to convince them that you need it. You need a challenge. A rock to crash up against, something that will break you to pieces without their intervention."

Abarai sat up and frowned. "I thought that was what fighting Captain Kuchiki was for."

"That's theoretical," Retsu replied. "You need something more imminent. You could go fight him, I suppose. I am not sure Zabimaru would be sympathetic to your cause."

Abarai stuck out his lower lip. "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't."

"It's no matter," Retsu said, rising to her feet. "That's never been your plan anyway, remember?"

Abarai nodded. "Right. You're right. Gettin' ahead of myself, as usual. Captain Kuchiki's had his bankai for ages. I need to master mine before I can face him. Which means I gotta get it, first."

What was it like, Retsu wondered, to be so impossibly young? To have so much laid out before you, to want so badly. She could hardly remember it.

"Just so," she said, striding to the center of the clearing. "And to do that, you will fight me."

Abarai rolled to his feet in a smooth motion. "I've fought you before," he grinned.

"I haven't been serious before," she replied, drawing her zanpakutou and examining it in the sunlight. There was an eagerness in her sword today, one she hadn't felt in a long time. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," said Abarai, "whenever you are. Look, there's really nothing special about this? Just a regular ol' fight? There's nothing you want me to focus on or try to--"

"Try," Retsu replied, " not to die. Bankai." The blade of her zanpakutou began to loosen and sag, dripping between her fingers to form a thick pool of blood-like ooze around her feet. "Minazuki."

If this were Kira, or perhaps even Isane, she would have given them a moment, let the impact sink in. But this was Abarai, who had grown up on the edges of the world, breathing violence into his lungs like spores, letting it spread through his blood and marrow and bloom from his skin. He blocked most the first volley of Minazuki's blood whips before his sword was even fully from its sheath. She still got in a good lash across one cheek, another against his calf. He had Zabimaru unsealed in time for the second round, and managed to block it completely. Minazuki was fast, though, too fast for Renji's shikai. The third attack hit before Zabimaru could reorient, severing the elbow tendon. Next, both knees. His legs hadn't finished buckling beneath him when she laid a deep gash across his gut, and one on the chest to match.

The wounds were carefully chosen. They both knew it. Immobilized and laid open, a sure death by exsanguination. Well. A probable death. Retsu stepped closer and placed the tip of her sword at his throat. His superhuman will to survive might be able to regenerate blood fast enough to keep pace with the torso wounds, but she didn't think that even he could outlive a slashed throat. Minazuki's ooze slithered around them, fencing in the growing lake of blood that poured from his body, soaking into her socks and sandals. "If you yield," she said, "I will heal you."

Stubborn as ever, Abarai tried to prop himself up on his good arm, which caused a fresh gush of dark liquid to fall out of him. Retsu waited. The arm failed him. He fell back down in his puddle again, then rolled onto his back. "After you heal me," he groaned, "can we go again?"

"No," replied Retsu. "That will be it for today."

Abarai was silent for a long time.

"Renji," she said. "You need to make a call. The patient is dying."

An angry growl rattled through his chest. "Save 'im," he finally sighed. "I yield. Whatever."

Retsu flicked a hand, and ropy tentacles of Minazuki clambered up onto him, sealing over his wounds with loud, wet slaps.

Abarai squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment and made a distressed noise in his throat. After the initial discomfort passed, one eye opened and swiveled to regard her. "This is just Minazuki's usual goop, ain't it?" he wheezed. "Does it change? Between fighting and healing? Chemistry-like?"

"Is now really the time to be thinking about this?" Retsu asked. She didn't usually use Minazuki's bankai form to heal people, and honestly had never thought about it much. Also, unlike Abarai, who practically had a summer home there, she, herself had never spent much time in Shikai-Minazuki's stomach.

"If I only get to fight you for twenty seconds at a time, I gotta learn as much as I can from it," Abarai said, closing his eyes again. Retsu's heart thumped in her chest. He wasn't anything like any of her other children, not even the lost one she kept trying to make him into, and for a brief moment, she loved him more than she could stand.

"When can we do this again?" he finally asked.

"Next week, if you like. If you feel ready to go again."

He let out an irritated whine, or possibly a whimper of pain. "Took…two hours to walk out here," he said, sounding more than a little petulant. "This is really how it's gonna be?"

"Yes," she said. "I don't like to release my bankai where people can feel it. This is how it's going to be."

He was quiet, and they both listened to Minazuki glorp and blorble away at his injuries for a few minutes.

"I need to fight your bankai to get bankai, but I'm gonna need a bankai if I'm gonna last long enough to figure out what kinda bankai I need to fight yours," he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

"Well," she said, "you only have to yield if you want me to heal you. If you want to heal yourself, I'll give you as many time-outs as you want."

Abarai's eyes shot open and his head rolled to the side, so he could regard her fully. "Time-outs?"

She nodded sweetly. "Mm-hmm."

"If I…I if heal. Myself." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes again, and rolled his head back to face the sky. "Fuck." Another deep breath. "Sorry for the language, ma'am."

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "And I know you can do it. I believe in you."