#anyway. here's to giving in to the screaming impulsive voice trying to convince you to just get it over with.

[luvvsoft]

THANK U SM FOR THAT CONNOR FIC it made my whole month fr now i feel complete.

anyways i’m here to suggest another idea 😝😝 enemies to lovers somehow. ur writing style could make it work it’s just too good

notes: hii, tysm for the request<3 i enjoyed writing the connor fic a lot ! i could definitely make the enemies to lovers trope work !! i hope its what you wanted !

ᰔᩚ connor lassiter x reader, angst + fluff, enemies to lovers, rivalries, some violence, jealousy, mutual pining but you’re both too stubborn to admit it

word count: 2.9k

thank you to my love @salaimoi for helping me write the kissing scene <3 don’t ever expect that again i haven’t kissed anyone

You were simple, as simple as a teenager could get. You liked going outside, drawing, reading, all things people around your age did. Maybe you were too simple sometimes but it wasn’t a bad thing.

Your parents thought otherwise though. Costs of living were going up: food, clothing, housing, everything. They were forced to make hard choices, and when push came to shove, they signed your unwind order. An order that would take away all your rights — primarily your right to live as a whole human being.

Cry as you tried, scream as you tried, nothing would get them to change their mind. In the end, they stayed firm on their decision, deciding you out of all your 6 siblings, were to go.

You were forced to bow your head and accept your fate. There was nothing you could do but give in, or at least that’s what you thought until Roland convinced you otherwise. Roland, who was one of your closest friends, was also sent to be unwind when he retaliated against his mother’s boyfriend.

At least you wouldn’t be alone in your final moments. Your final moments wouldn’t come as fast as you thought though.

“Roland, what are you doing?” you asked as you saw him packing a bag.

“Changing my fate. Now, come with me.”

Roland had made the rash decision to run from his fate, and you, scared of being alone, went with him. You would face all that was to come together. You just weren’t ready for what that meant.

Your “small” detour brought you to Sonia’s basement, a kind old lady who took in AWOLs. For her you were glad; she sheltered and fed you, what more could you ask for?

It would seem Roland wasn’t satisfied with that. He thirsted for more, never being satisfied with what he had. You didn’t always understand his motives, but you stayed by his side, acting as a right hand for him.

He slowly rose up, being a voice for the kids and taking control of the situation. No one challenged it, they simply didn’t care enough or were too scared. Of course they would be, Roland was big, buff, scary: a person someone rational wouldn’t mess with. But, the coming of a girl and a boy changed that.

The boy dared to challenge Roland, starting a rivalry that seemed to heat up the room whenever they were near each other. Connor, as you learned, was impulsive, worse than Roland, and seemed to care too much about the girl who came with him. The girl, Risa, was someone Roland used to toy with Connor. Roland tried pinning her in the restroom once, flirting with her, trying to get close to her, all in order to get Connor angry and irrational. It worked sometimes, other times it didn’t.

Roland was difficult, wanting full influence over the basement kids. Connor, on the other hand, wanted Roland to back off. This power struggle between them erupted in many ways, oftentimes leading you to intervene, and others to get caught in the crossfire.

It was late, too late to deal with Roland being a pain in the ass. You should have expected this, of course he would pull something deep in the night. He was messing with Risa, and now, Connor was pissed off, leading them into a stand off.

You only came to know of this when one of the little kids woke you up, whispering “Roland and Connor are at it again.” You were forced to get up after that, once again having to settle their nonsense.

It was definitely too late to be dealing with Roland. You didn’t get paid enough for this (or at all).

When you arrived at where they were in the kitchen, you saw Connor hiding Rida behind him, while Roland stood across from him with his arms crossed and a smirk lining his lips. You could see Connor’s rage boiling in his eyes, threatening to erupt and burn everything around him, including his friend. You took that as your cue to intervene.

As Connor was about to open his mouth, you stepped in, “Do you guys really have to do this so late?”

All three of them turned, not even surprised at your appearance. They knew this would happen, it was a routine at this point.

“I didn’t do anything, simply wanted something to eat,” Roland said, keeping the smug look on his face, which only seemed to irritate Connor more.

You sighed, you didn’t get enough sleep to deal with this. “Come on, Roland,” you said as you walked over to him and pulled him by his arm, walking away.

You shot Risa a look on your way out, silently telling her to deal with Connor and calm him down before he scared the other kids.

“You need to learn to leave them alone, it’s annoying dealing with this drama this late at night,” you scolded Roland as you left the kitchen, heading to the sleeping area.

Roland didn’t say much at first, settling with an “I barely touched her.”

“You know anything you do sets him off, he’s like a fuse waiting to blow, and you’re not helping.”

Back in the kitchen, while Risa tried to calm Connor down, he thought about you — about how you chose to involve yourself with someone like Roland. He was sure you were no better than him, maybe worse than Roland, as you tried to act sweet.

Sweet you were, he was sure you made cavities grow on everyone’s teeth. He saw how you tended to the kids, how you patched up people when needed, how you made new kids feel welcomed and at home. It led him to wonder how you ended up at Roland’s side, highly treasured by him. He could understand why Roland kept you close, you were like caramel, sweet and inviting, even your lips were inviting him to press a soft kiss on them.

Connor shook his head, he shouldn’t be thinking of you that way. You were someone to be thought of as an enemy, someone he couldn’t align himself with. He had to hate you.

Time passed, and you all stayed the same. Roland and Connor squabbled, while Risa and you tried to stop them. The kids were lively, not as much as before though.

Soon enough, you’d end up stuffed in boxes, being shipped somewhere no one knew. It was a long trip, and your circumstances didn’t help. You were, unluckily, forced into a box with Connor and 2 other boys.

It was dark inside the box, but someone kept their gaze on you, staring daggers through you. You were sure it was Connor, why wouldn’t it be? You knew being friends with Roland would lead you two to be enemies by association.

You sighed, it would be a long trip after all.

Connor, on the other hand, tried to distract himself from your presence by talking to the other boys in the box. It was always nice to make friends, especially if they’re be in there for however long. They’d try to involve you in the conversation, but you didn’t respond much, opting to keep to yourself.

You were strange, Connor thought. He didn’t understand you try as he might, which only led him to more questions about you and your motives. How’d you end up here? How’d you end up stuck to Roland’s side? How’d someone like you be sent to be unwind?

As much as Connor wanted to voice these questions outside of his head, he knew he couldn’t. It was strange to talk to you, you only gave short answers to anyone but Roland. He wondered if you and Roland had something else going on.

Thinking of Roland only seemed to make him tense and anger to vibrate inside the box. He was losing himself in his thoughts about Roland till he felt a hand on his arm. A soft, warm hand that interrupted his thoughts, and made his mind dizzy and his head cloudy.

“Calm down,” he heard from a voice in the dark: your voice. The voice he longed to hear. Connor settled his thoughts and tried to turn to you, sitting across from him. He couldn’t see you in the darkness, but he could feel your warmth. It was comforting.

“Thank you,” Connor whispered, as he felt your hand retreat back into yourself. He was weirdly disappointed by it, though he tried not to show it.

It was only hours later that movement stopped and someone opened the crate they were in, letting sunlight in and rushing them to get out. It was chaotic and loud, airplanes could be heard and seen everywhere, along with tons of kids.

Connor learned later on they were in the Graveyard, and were to reside there until they turned 17 or they managed to get them fake identities. It was a new setting, but they didn’t have to live in fear of being unwound and think out their next plan to survive.

After, Connor looked for Risa, instead finding you and Roland alone. He didn’t know why, but his blood boiled at the sight of you and Roland hugging. He could hear you asking him if he was okay and if he was injured.

Connor hated you. He was sure he did, yet why did this feeling arise when you were near Roland? Why did he feel like he was suffocating when you got too close and clutched onto Roland like your life depended on it?

He couldn’t be jealous, no. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was actually jealous of Roland. He couldn’t admit that he wished you were hugging him and not Roland. Connor, not knowing how to deal with these feelings, instead chose to distract himself with other things, like helping kids around the Graveyard and being the Admiral’s helper.

Eventually, everyone got acclimated to their new environment. Every kid had a job to do, with you being in the infirmary. It seemed like the best option since you were used to patching up your siblings and kids in Sonia’s basement. It wasn’t everyday Connor came though.

“Alright, all you needed was some alcohol and a bandage. Don’t worry dear, you’ll be fine to play, just be careful,” you said as you finished tending to a little girl who scraped her knees. She got up, thanking you and then leaving.

You looked at the time, lunch was soon and you were starving. You had no time to eat this morning, and your mouth threatened to water at the thought of food.

As you were tidying up and getting ready to leave, the door slammed open and revealed Connor, an injured Connor, to be precise.

“Connor?? What happened, are you okay? Come and sit here,” you said as you hurried to get supplies for him.

The injury looked deep and was bleeding a lot, you definitely wouldn’t be eating any time soon.

Connor looked out of it, so you grabbed him and sat him down, pressing a warm cloth to the wound. He hissed, murmuring a small ow before settling.

“I’m sorry, bear with it for now while I try to find some stitches,” you whispered to him.

You found them, taking a small second to “Aha!” yourself before returning to his side. You took the cloth, and instead tried to disinfect the area around the wound, “How did this happen?”

“I wasn’t careful enough, I got distracted by someone else and dropped a part of the airplane on my arm,” Connor whispered, opening his eyes and staring straight at you.

“Hm, be more careful. I’m gonna try to stitch it now.”

Connor looked at you while you worked; you looked focused, your eyebrows furrowed as you worked to stitch up his wound. He liked your facial expressions, they were full of life. He saw a piece of your hair slide down and cover one of your eyes, moving it with his other hand.

“Thank you,” you murmured, continuing on with what you were doing.

Once you were done, you stood up straight, and looked right into his eyes, “You’re done now, good job. Try not to strain that arm and don’t put pressure on it okay?”

He nodded, thanking you. You moved away so he could stand up, but he stayed. Connor grabbed your arm, pulling you back in front of him and almost making you fall on him in the process.

“What are you doin—“ he cut you off in the middle of your sentence and brought you closer.

“I like your eyes. They shine like the sun, so bright and glowy,” Connor said before getting up and leaving. Leaving you with your swirling thoughts. He was confusing.

What he said stayed in your head, leading to many thoughts you knew you shouldn’t have.

His eyes had stared deep into you, making you feel like he could see into your soul. His hands were calloused, yet soft at the same time. You wondered what it would be like to hold them close to your face at night.

You knew you shouldn’t think of him that way, but you couldn’t stop it. The little acts he did tricked your mind into thinking what it would be like to be his.

You used the newly brought piano as a way to distract your mind from Connor. You played a few tunes when you were a normal kid, and not an AWOL.

The piano keys felt familiar under the pads of your fingers, inviting you to play. It was dark and everyone was asleep, so you saw no harm in losing yourself in the music.

You pressed one key, then another and another, till you started remembering a tune you played frequently for your friends. You vividly started to remember when you played for a school concert, in front of your mother and father for the first time, and when you played just for Roland.

You missed your old life. It was a life full of love and friends. It might have been mundane, but it was something you grew accustomed to — something that comforted you. Now your life was full of fear and paranoia, impeded by that Unwind Order. You longed for times to return to how they were, simple yet fun.

While you played and thought about your old life, Connor thought about you. He was laying in bed when he heard the piano. He thought it was Risa at first, but he knew she’d be asleep at this time. Regardless, there could be a chance that it was, so he got up and went to the courtyard.

There Connor didn’t see Risa, instead he saw you, playing the piano with tears streaming down your eyes. He stayed there, waiting for you to finish. He busied himself with admiring you, taking a moment to look at all your features from the shadows of your face to the curve of your lips while you played.

You suddenly stopped, spotting him, “Connor?” You wiped your tears and stood up, getting ready to apologize for waking him.

“I like when you play; it’s like listening to an angel’s melody. You should play more often,” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Ah, thank you, and I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Dance with me if you’re really sorry.” Connor held out his hand, waiting for you to take it.

You didn’t deny him that, and took his hand. He immediately pulled you closer, while his other arm came and wrapped around your waist. He then started swaying with you despite there being no music.

Connor could feel your breath on his, it intoxicated him. He was sure your presence was his drug. He could feel the way your hand grabbed onto his shoulder, while the other was intertwined with his own hand.

“Why are you doing this?” you took a moment to ask Connor as he spun you around.

“Doing what?”

“Dancing with me, telling me these things, complimenting me; it messes with my brain.”

“Because I like you.”

You pulled away from him, flashing him a shocked face, “What?”

“I mean it, I really do feel something for you. Even if you’re friends with Roland, I don’t care. It makes me feel jealous and angry when you’re close to him. I want to be the one you hug and patch up, not him,” Connor said as he pulled you closer to him and cupped your face in his hands.

“Really? You mean it? Tell me you mean it please, Connor,” you said as you brought your hand up to his, and caressed his hand.

“I mean it, I promise. Let me prove to you I do.”

The room was devoid of sound, but when his lips finally met yours at last, you swore you could hear a million different melodies being sung. An angelic tune rang in your ear, erasing the uncertainness that plagued your minds beforehand.

His lips latched onto yours, his tongue seeking entry almost immediately in a desperate search. Your tongues danced to a certain rhythm, a perfect translation from your dance movements from a moment ago.

You were finally his, and he was finally yours. You were thankful kismet had finally brought you two together.

The kiss was everything you could’ve sworn it would’ve been, erasing every bittersweet memory you had about him during the short time you knew each other.

[arunikas]

10 first lines Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @sessakag and @bunny-hoodlum 💕💕💕

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

OLGAMI 

That one time Hinata let herself act impulsively, she never thought it would cost her a bombardment of constant, overwhelming desires she never allowed herself to think of dwelling into.

Being a college student is hard enough. But being a broke college student is on another level of headache, not to mention that her college life is basically hanging on the thin thread of her scholarship. It's always so packed with endless assignments, nonstop pulling all nighters, and part time jobs at one place after another.

And when her body betrayed her into refusing to work due to the excessive amount of labor hours and then the stress level hit its peak; Ino had successfully convinced her to do that one thing she always cringed out whenever Ino brought it up during their pillow talk session in their bedroom dorm.

THE FALLEN GOD

The blazing on his eyes were as crimson as the blood tainting his armor.  

The originally white fur of the horse he was riding now smeared with the concrete evidence of their triumph on the battlefieldㅡred burning blood screamed of the anger and desperation of the defeated alliance; black ashes and dust personified the life of the enemies killed and dragged down past the walls of the afterlife.

His face was stoic, emotionless, and even cold. Not even a hint of pride adorning his sharp gaze over winning another warㅡemphasizing their kingdom's dominance in the upper world yet again. He remained quiet, not even fazed by the clamorous noises hanging in the air, as though the troops he was leading along with his best friend weren't even there to glorify their another absolute victory.

FRIENDS

It wasn't something they thought would happen.

On the top of Hokage’s monument.

When the time was too late to be called night and too early to be called morning.

When the stars still watched over the sleeping village.

And the moon still hung so proudly on the sky, showering its gentle light to cast away the darkness that almost swallowed the world below.

When nightmare knocked her front door and greeted her again, and she decided to walk it off aimlessly while succumbing herself in the solitude and serenity the universe seemed to accompany her with.

BURNS FOR YOU

When she decided to choose the firefighters for this month’s theme of “I Want To Be A….” event for her class, she didn’t expect this kind of firefighters to come.

I mean, she managed to get her favor granted for them to do a day visit at kindergarten and give some mini demonstrations for the kids through one of her student’s parent’s help. This event was done on a monthly basis that she set up for her class as an attempt to plant some tiny seed in their heart to grow a conscious sense of willingness to be the person who can give a good contribution for the society, by learning the various essences of kindness held beneath each different job.

STEEL UNDER HER VELVET

"Haahh...hahhh...okay...hahh... enough…" Boruto panted so heavily from his training with Kawaki. He bent forward, both his hands were supporting his body on his knees. Few droplets of sweat were trailing down from his forehead, to his cheeks, until it finally dropped by the tip of his chin.

"Let's take...a small...break," Kawaki replied while trying to lay down on the ground. His voice was no better than Boruto's, disjointed by the need of oxygen supplying his lungs. He could feel how his muscles burnt by the excessive usage during their session, and how a few parts of his body were giving signals of the upcoming bruises that would surely appear by the end of the day.

It’s not even 10 fics I put here, so is it ok to add a two wips? I’ll just take it as a yes 😂😂😂

AMONG THE STARS

(High school AU, Multi chapters, rate T, heavy angst)

Spring, 7 years ago. Konoha High School.

It was magical. Spring had always felt so magical. After months of crisp, clean-white snow covering anything our sight could fall onto, spring was like a gift. A sweet gift of enduring the cold world. 

When the snow melted and the cold air was swept away, colors bloomed into the monochromatic world like wonders; we witnessed nature get revived and reinvigorated. Dormant plants began to grow again, new seedlings sprouted out of the ground; they flourished ardently in such abundant lush. As if they had been yearning to bloom.

In the distance, the world hummed in awakening. Little animals emerged from their den after months of being cradled by their small warmth. Snowmelt made the rivers pulse like wondrous veins. The pumping heart of nature was beating again, a pleasant reminder of what a vibrant world to be alive.

Everything felt so alive. Just as lively as how youth should be. But those weren't the reasons why my youth was so vibrant.

It's because she was there. Because she was there and made my life so vibrant and radiant.

SUMMER PARADISE

This one is not really a fic, but a socmed-au format one. It’s actually a remake of my unfinished fic lmao I’m just trying to reexperience the fic so that maybe I could find the vibes to finish it. But, here I am playing with this socmed-au-thingy lolol never thought it’d be sooo exciting to do! 😂😂 So, I’ll just drop some shots I have in my draft!

Once upon a summer day...

The next day...

Meanwhile, on the other side...

And this makes me miss Trinity's works so much, nothing can top her socmed aus for me. I hope she's doing well somewhere out there🥺♥️

I saw many already did this tag game, so I'm gonna tag those who haven't @secrettastemakerland @ellaroundpanda @narutosgirl7 @truebkgirl @powerful-niya and anyone who's interested! ☺️

[rotworld]

3: Salamander

The apprentices of Magister Hezethril seem to be dying of horrific accidents with suspicious frequency.

->contains gore, murder, non-consensual touching, yandere, threats, and extreme power imbalance (basically teacher/student).

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.

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There’s a commotion in the hallway. A crowd of apprentices, swarming together in a sea of black cloaks, have gathered in the open doorway of the alchemy laboratory. But there’s no excitement among them, no jovial anticipation. They’re whispering and weeping, clinging to one another anxiously. Your heart skips a beat. It can’t be. Not again. You push your way through the crowd, refusing to believe it until you see it with your own eyes, ignoring the voices all around you.

“...looks like Bianca…”

“...the third this week…”

“...couldn’t have done this to herself…”

“Excuse me,” you mutter, shouldering past a pair of gawking boys. You’re hardly a step into the room when the stench hits you, sharp and unnatural, rust and ozone. Something pale green and foul-smelling is spilled across the stone floor, dripping from an upended cauldron, but what’s worse is the blood. You can follow a trail of pain and slow suffering; a bloody handprint on the glass case in the back of the room. A smear across the table. A spattered drag across the floor, all the way to the lifeless body of an apprentice, her hands frozen in rigor mortis claws in front of her face. Her mouth is still open in a silent scream.

“What in the seven hells is going on in here?” 

The words crack like a whip through the tense air, cold and razor sharp. The crowd parts silently, allowing Magister Hezethril into the laboratory. You make way for him, scrambling out of his path. The Magister is imposing in his long red robes, towering above the apprentices and pushing them aside with webbed hands. His bronze skin turns ink black halfway down his extremities, his nails lacquered with gold. He sweeps forward wordlessly, tendrils of long black hair waving in his wake. His frightening eyes, spots of gold in black sclera, fall upon the dead apprentice. He scowls in distaste. “Who was in the room when this happened?” he asks.

A trembling apprentice steps forward, a young man with blood on his hands. “I was,” he says hoarsely. “I came in to use the lab. Bianca was already here, working on something. She dropped something into the cauldron, I didn’t see what. But all of the sudden, she was gasping and convulsing. She started,” he swallows hard, his hands trembling, “scratching. At her own throat. I tried to stop her, but she fought me. She just kept scratching. There was this awful, wet noise, and then she…” One of the other apprentices puts an arm around him as he begins to sob.

“I see,” Magister Hezethril says. He turns on his heel and walks away. “Clean this up,” he orders, leaving shaken apprentices in his wake. Some scatter, eager to be far away from the gruesome mess, but you stay with a handful of others. The young man who saw Bianca die sits, unresponsive, against the wall. He’s going to need all the help he can get. Several apprentices cover Bianca with a white sheet and take the body away. You and a few of your peers begin scrubbing blood from the floor. You wince at the fleshy chunks of tissue among the mess.

Luca finds something in the bottom of the cauldron that makes him wrinkle his nose. “She was poisoned,” he mutters. “This brew was extremely toxic. No one in their right mind would have brewed it, but there’s some kind of residue in the bottom. I think she was sabotaged.” He pinches a fine, ashy dust between his fingers. You can’t recognize it anymore, singed as it is, but you believe him. The smell in the room leaves a distinct burning sensation in your throat.

Beside you, Sheila squeaks, “Sabotage?” She’s had to leave the room twice to vomit, and she looks like she might need to again.

“It’s not unheard of,” Phoebe says, shrugging. She wipes Bianca’s bloodied handprints from the cabinets. “Lots of mage apprentices die under suspicious circumstances. It’s new apprentices, usually. Young, impulsive, trying to compete. They just want to get ahead.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Sheila insists. “What’s there to compete over, anyway? The Magister hates all of us.” 

That gets a bitter chuckle from everyone in the room. Working together, you get the laboratory cleaned up in no time, every trace of blood and poison mopped up and disposed of. It leaves an empty feeling within you. It feels like you do this more and more often lately, erasing all traces of your fellow apprentices. Memorial services, if there are any, happen in the distant hamlets and villages where the apprentices came from. Life in the Magister’s tower goes on uninterrupted and you’re expected to behave as though the sudden holes opened up at certain desks and in certain dormitories simply do not exist. 

The others are thinking about it now. You can feel that heaviness in the air even with the body gone and all traces of death washed away. Accidents happen anywhere you gather inexperienced mages, but not nearly this many, not so close together. There’s a field south of the tower full of fresh graves and wooden crosses. “Why isn’t the Magister doing anything?” Sheila whimpers. “Is this what he wants? Are we all supposed to kill each other until only one of us is left?”

“Of course not,” you insist. You give her the water pail you were going to use to rinse your hands, letting her take it first. She sniffles as she scrubs Bianca from beneath her nails. “The Magister must know something’s happening. Maybe he’s just being careful. He doesn’t want to say anything until he’s certain he knows who’s responsible.”

“Are you kidding? Magisters get off on things like this,” Phoebe says, rolling her eyes. “It’s a power trip for them. You saw how he looked at Bianca, right? Like she was an insect. He only cares about his favorites. Bet you get extra credit for offing somebody.” 

“That’s awful,” you tell her. 

She shrugs. “That’s life.” 

“I assume you’re done in here if you have time to gossip.” 

The Magister’s voice is like ice down your back. Sheila practically sprints from the room. Phoebe sheepishly greets him and keeps her head down as she leaves. Luca eyes the Magister suspiciously but passes without a word. “Magister,” you address him, bowing your head. He holds out his arm when you try to step past him. 

“Just a moment, apprentice,” he says. You’ve heard him speak to your peers, reducing them to tears with nothing but his hard gaze alone. But when he looks at you, his strange gaze softens with affection. He says “apprentice” as though it’s a term of endearment. You shift uneasily, peering into the hallway behind him in search of your friends, but they’re long gone. A sinking feeling overtakes you when he bumps the laboratory door with his elbow, shutting it behind him. “I won’t keep you long,” he assures you. “Solstice preparations will begin soon. Could I persuade you to assist me?”

Could I persuade you, he says. A phrase unheard of, coming from the mouth of an elder mage. They don’t ask favors. They don’t plead or beg. They give orders, and apprentices jump to follow them. Magister Hezethril is no different, but for you, he will dress up the truth in pretty language, will say it sweetly so it scares you less. But you know better. You hear the threat unspoken. His hand hooks beneath your chin, demanding eye contact. The webbing between his fingers is soft and damp, slick against your skin. “Yes, Magister,” you say quietly. “I would be happy to assist you.”

The Magister’s smiles are uncomfortable, too wide and hungry, too inhuman. “Excellent,” he says. “See to it that your schedule is open, I’ll need you the next few evenings for preliminary research.”

“Of course,” you say. “But, ah, I will need tomorrow evening to myself.”

“Oh?” the Magister says, sounding so unconcerned and casual that you almost slip up, forget who you’re talking to. “And why is that?” You try, subtly, to slip out of his grasp. A mistake, you realize too late, Magister Hezethril’s pupils narrow into slits and he corners you against the back cabinets, slamming his hand against the wooden panels beside your head. You hear the cabinet door splinter, feel it shaking and collapsing inward. You hold your breath. The Magister bends slightly from his great height, his gaze piercing and heated. “Where are you going, apprentice?” he hisses. “Why the rush? Are you hiding something from me?” 

“I’m not, I swear I’m not,” you insist, too weak and hesitant to convince him. You can never lie to him. He always drags the truth out, one way or another. “I just...I promised one of the others that I’d tutor them in incantation.”

The Magister makes a frightening, inhuman sound, somewhere between a hiss and a growl, flashing fangs and a black, forked tongue. “This again?” he mutters. “How many times must I tell you that you are above them? They do not deserve your attention. How could you possibly learn everything I have to teach you when you are too busy with these wastrels you call your peers?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, nor the space to breathe. His sharp nails trace your jaw, titling your face towards him when you try to turn away. He looms so close you can smell the fire in his lungs, magic that could reduce you to ash if he so desired. 

“It would be such a shame, wouldn’t it, if another apprentice were to die,” he murmurs, looming inches from you, his breath warming your lips. “Such a terrible waste. So many accidents these last few months. So many dead.” 

“Please,” you whisper, clutching his shoulders. His robes bunch up beneath your grip but it’s worthless. He’s so much older and stronger than you. “Please don’t hurt anyone else.” 

Magister Hezethril tilts his head, drinking in your fear and submission. He traces your lips with the sharp tip of one nail. “Are you available tomorrow, apprentice?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you say shakily. “Yes, I swear, I’m all yours.”

It’s just what he wants to hear. Smiling, he pulls you into his chest. Gently, he smooths down your hair where it ruffled against the cupboards, pushing the creases from your cloak. But he pauses as he does this, catching sight of the thick turtleneck fabric you’re wearing beneath. He toys with it, peeling it down to expose tender flesh. You shiver under the attention, the careful stroke of his fingers along your pulse. “You aren’t just yet,” he says. “But that’s alright. I can be very, very patient.”

You wince when he slices into you, just enough to break the skin. He rolls your turtleneck back up. The wound throbs hot underneath. “See you tomorrow, apprentice,” he purrs. You nod numbly. The laboratory opens and slams the shut, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

[gaitwae]

Whispers •||• Loki x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep to try and quell your stress, but nightmares only make your night worse. Impulsively, you do the only thing you can do.

Rating: PG for nightmares and initial angst. Fluff ending. I originally started drafting this around December. Uh. Here it is. Probably explains the bad mood board and the different formatting.

Tags: @make-me-imagine​ @thorfanficwriter​ @bwemph​ @myraiswack​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @loki-snape-our-hero​ @wolfish-trickster​ @lucywrites02​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @winterfrostsarmy​ @superheroesandstardust​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @geekns​ @natandersonnla​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @megthemewlingquim​ @frostedgiant​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @thebookbakery​ @delightfulheartdream​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @the-emo-asgardian​ @amwolowicz​ @itscomplicatedx​ @sophlubbwriting​

+-+--

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice snarled, sharp-tongued and voilent. Long fingers gripped at your shoulders, turning you about, left and right, left and right. “What do you think you’re doing, loving a man who doesn’t care about you?” You felt your throat squeeze up. The voice laughed at your displeasure, clawing its hands down your neck to your shoulders once more, then at your waist. “What a fool you are, Y/N... he wouldn’t even remember you passing.”

“Let me go,” you asked, your own words quivering in comparison to the feral tone that growled in your ear. There was a dark chuckle, almost a real laugh, and the claws released you. Instead, the floor beneath you swiveled, causing you to face your attacker... your nightmare. His face was hidden in the darkness of your dreamscape.

“Are my whispers too real for you, darling?” the voice asked, the smile audible now. This figure was mocking you, now. “Then perhaps you should just... wake up, shouldn’t you? Wake up, silly girl.” With a howl, a crow of shrill laughter, he stepped into your vision, pushing you back against a wall. His breath smelled like tea and blood. His teeth gleamed in a dark, sickening sliver of light. “Who do I look like?” he asked you.

He pulled back, suddenly visible to you now. Your eyes wouldn’t look away. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. The face. The face was what scared you the most.

Loki’s face.

+-+--

You sat up with your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You felt like your chest would explode; tears raced down your face as you tried to catch your breath and calm your heart down. You needed something different, tonight. You hated yourself for even thinking it, but you needed a blanket... or a stuffed animal.... or someone’s arms. You needed something to hold onto. You felt so alone, here in the dark.

You hadn’t ever felt so unsafe in your own room before.

What had come over you?

“I hate this,” you mumbled. “I can’t believe I’m dreaming about him, again.” You shook your head, sniffing once or twice. Your hands were clammy. If your hair was long enough for it, it had been wetted by your tears. Your pillow had stains. Something about the reminder that Loki wasn’t human hurt you.

Why? It was the truth. You knew he wasn’t a good fit for you. You always knew. Yet, somehow, you couldn’t help the tearing heart beneath your breastbone. 

There was a soft knock on your door. “Y/N,” a female voice came. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, Nat,” you called. “I’m fine, now. You can come in.” You didn’t want her to come in right away, but your mouth was moving faster than your brain. All your wants had been concentrated on keeping this nightmare to yourself. 

Whispers of forgotten affections, whispers of stupid dreams that would never come to be were in your ear as you sat, gazing at your hands while Natasha came in and sat down on your bed. You rested against your friend.

“I heard screaming,” she whispered. She rubbed your arms gently. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“I had another dream about... about him,” you said, angry at yourself for admitting it. “I don’t know why I have nightmares about someone I love.”

“He’s pretty intimidating, I’ll give you that,” Natasha said, now putting her hands through your hair. “Why wouldn’t you be afraid of him? I mean, he threw Tony out a window one time.”

You laughed gently, her joke making you feel better. “Tony’s terrifying when he’s pissed off, yeah.” You were glad she didn’t say anything about you being a strong woman. Usually, out of everything you’d read online, strong women didn’t need to be afraid of anyone. For once, you were glad you could be intimidated by a person you admired rather than being too strong to be “scared of a man’s opinion.” 

It wasn’t like that. 

Loki wasn’t like that.

“You just have to figure out how to ignore the whispers in the back of your head, baby.” Nat set a hand on your arm comfortingly. She squeezed, the tension you held in your body leaving as your best friend stayed next to you.

You held your head in your hands. “I’m trying. I really am, but...”

“You had a nightmare. You should get him to comfort you. Get over the nightmare and win him over,” Natasha suggested. “I’d stay with you but --”

“But you’ve got to go,” you filled in. You sighed, nodding with understanding. “Steve taking you?”

“We’re going to see a midnight film. It’s romantic, I think.” She shrugged. “I’ll be back around two am.” She kissed your head. “If you need me to stay, I’ll cancel. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay. Okay, just go.” You swallowed. “I’ll try my best.” 

+-+-- 

“Loki?” a small voice came from the door. The god squeezed his eyes shut tightly, but sat up anyway.

“Y/N, do you have any idea what time it is, sweetheart? Are you cold? I can assure you,” he chuckled, lifting his legs off the bed, “solving that problem won’t be easy.” He balanced himself, then opened the door to see his dear little mortal. He stopped when his eyes adjusted.

Y/N was crying. 

“What in the Nine Realms...?” Loki scooped you up. “My dearest heart, what in the world could be on your mind? Has someone hurt you? Are you sick? Shall I go out and buy you something?” He pet your hair. He was trying his best not to fret. He hadn’t heard any continous shouting, no walls breaking, and no gunshots. But... now that he thought about it... “Why do you cry?”

“I had a nightmare,” you murmured. “It’s stupid, but I wanted to see you... Nat came in when she heard me.”

“What was the nightmare?” he asked, crawling into bed with you. “No nightmare is stupid.” 

You explained the horrors to him, and he patiently listened. He wiped your tears and stroked your cheek. 

“I see,” he hummed. “You see me as... what?” He was trying to keep his cool. He didn’t want to react the wrong way. Nightmares could be of anyone and anything; the dark whispers in one’s mind didn’t necessarily mean you thought of any person as evil. 

“You weren’t you,” you said. “Something was trying to look like you and convince me that I... I was wasting my time...” You ducked your head. You didn’t meet his gaze.

“Wasting your time?” he repeated.

It took you a while to answer. Loki was patient. “Because I’m in love with you.”

“You were scared because you’re in love with me?” he smiled, then laughed gently. Sleep was filling both your voices. You stopped crying. “Dearest, I thought we already knew our feelings for each other.”

“...you knew?”

“Of course, I knew. What kind of sweetheart would I be if I didn’t know? Have I done a bad job showing my affections?” His eyebrows drew together. “I’ll fix that.”

“No, I just... Humans don’t always exchange hugs and kisses and cuddling when they’re in love. Sometimes, it’s the need for physical contact, and I didn’t know if we were just... a thing... or if you wanted me to say something.”

“You silly humans!” he sighed. He kissed your cheek, your forehead. “I love you. There. Now, fret no more. I’ll battle your nightmares away.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Sleep. I’ll whisper lullabies in your ears as you drift.”

[sweetea-rosey]

Ooo hi I saw you take requests? I have a writing request if you want to :))

So here is my idea:

Remus has a notebook given to him by the other sides to write his thoughts down in. See, Remus has clear impulse control problems so this notebook of for him to write his thoughts down instead of just doing and saying whatever comes to mind. It gives him a chance to think about it. Sometimes, maybe like once a week give or take a few days one of the other sides will sit down with him and read his thoughts with him just to make him feel validated and heard. Well this particular time one of the sides (of your choice) sat down with the notebook and found some rather interesting things.

Now, you can take this one of two ways (it’s really all up to you!)- You can make this something angsty (hurt comfort), or you can make it something shippy! It can be any Remus ship you want but I personally am more partial to intrulogical hehe 💙💚

Take your time and have fun with it!! Have a good day :)

Ah! Ty for the request! I started writing it on the day you submitted it, but Tumblr deleted it after a while of not saving :') so now my motivation to do this is deterred

Anyway, this'll be my first time not writing something Roman centric =w=""

Remus held the book in his hands. He remembered the day Roman gave it to him, when he risked traveling into the dark scape because he knew his brother needed this. Because he did, too.

An outlet.

A place for his monstrosities to be, other than inside his head, allowed to torture him to their best abilities. The illusions his mind creates are no longer just in his eyes. It's no longer insanity- it's creativity. The journal isn't the first one. But he and Roman make sure to keep eachother stocked up; they get filled rather quickly. The Imagination holds an entire library dedicated to their filled journals from over the years.

The journals have also become sort of diaries to them. So, imagine what were to happen if one of them got lost? The possibility of their secrets being seen by unbidden eyes.

Remus burst into Roman's room, "Ro!"

Roman jumped from his spot at his desk, "Jeez- ! What is it?"

Oddly, for Remus, he seemed almost anxious, "Have you seen my latest journal?"

Ah, that explains it. Roman understands the severity of losing something that holds your private thoughts. He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face Remus better, "No, I haven't. Is it missing?"

Remus nodded, unable to speak through the panic coursing through his veins, the hormone mixing with the feeling of the plasma we call blood rushing through veins and arteries, rest in his heart, which is thumping with vigor, the- Remus shook himself. The imagery coming on its own with nothing to do with it, "Thoughts, thoughts thoughts, thoughts, blood, where? Everywhere? It is me, I am thoughts and blood and gore and death and slime, and..."

Roman pulled his brother in, the physical touch of his second half grounding him, finally balanced out with his brother there to help him.

"Breathe, Ree...I get it...I'll help you look for it, okay? Do you have any spare journals?"

Remus shook his head. He had just started this one, he was too busy brainstorming on the pages to remember to restock.

"Okay, do you have the focus to conjur any, right now?"

Remus shook his head again. No no, of course not! He's too focused on the one that's missing!

"Alright, that's okay, Ree. I get it. Here, use this for now," As Roman spoke, he pressed a plain black book in the unstable man's hands, "Get some thoughts out on that, then we can start looking, okay?"

Instead of answering, he made the rest of the way into the prince's room and started letting the thoughts out.

.

.

.

"Feel better?"

Remus let out a breath and nodded, "A lot, thanks. Can we go look, now?"

"Of course, let's go."

It took hours. The sun was gone in Thomas' living room and they were still tearing the place apart, searching absolutely everywhere. Remus was tempted to just dismantle the mind palace and look through the stuff that gets left behind. The fear was boiling in his gut in the ocean of acid.

"What if we don't find it? My blood, sweat, and tears went into that book! Pieces of my heart are in there, I can't lose it, what if someone else finds it and reads it?"

Roman shuddered, because he didn't believe that Remus was being metaphorical, "I understand the severity of the situation, Ree. We should go look in the Lightside, now..."

Remus shrugged as much as his slumped posture will allow, "Sure..."

"We'll find it, Ree..."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If I lose it? Fine, I have others, I can start a new one. I'm scared of someone else finding it and reading it... there's things in there I don't want others seeing..."

"I get it, you know I do. We'll get it back before anyone else can even know it exists, alright?"

Remus just shrugged off his comforting hand, "Stupid prince, always making promises you don't even know if you can keep. Don't do that to yourself and don't do it to me. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that shit."

Roman recoiled, almost physically, "Sometime, people just need reassurance."

"And then, when you're wrong? I know you don't like breaking promises, Princey."

"...Then hopefully we'll figure it out."

"You're such a fucking optimist, it's gross."

Roman rolled his eyes, "I'm helping you look, be nice, you doofus."

"Oh wow, "doofus", I'm so offended," Remus said without much effort.

Roman ignored him.

.

.

.

"It's not HERE!" Remus screamed, a pot crashing through the wall.

Roman manged to muffle the noise and quickly put it back together, "We will, this was only the first room in the Lightside. You need to calm down."

"I can't! What if someone else already found it and read it? What if they hate me? What if they never wanna talk to me again because nothing in there makes sense, what-"

Roman caught his hands, "Woah! Woah...Remus, when did you start caring so much about what the others think of you?"

"I don't!"

"But...-"

"I don't care about what Logan and the other think of me."

"Of what...Logan and the...? Remus...is this about Logan?"

Remus hesitated just long enough.

"Oh great Aphrodite, it is..."

"Aphro-? NO! No, I don't!"

"Remus, is there something about Logan on that book?"

Remus said fuck it in his mind and sighed, "Yes... I...some fantasies...that he might not approve of..."

"Oh, Remus..."

"What if he finds out, and he...? He just doesn't...?"

Roman hit his brother on the head, "This is why you're a doofus. It doesn't matter if he finds it, you have nothing to worry about."

Remus rolled his eyes. Literally. He rolled them like dice and Roman had to look away, but got the message.

"How would you know?"

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes (PROPERLY).

"I'm leaving you to figure that out. But, I do."

"Sure. Whatever. Asshole."

Roman moved on to look in the next room.

.

.

.

A flash of green leaped onto him and he was tumbling over, the item in his hands flying out.

"Remus!"

The man scrambled over and snatched the book up, "Did you read it?"

"I- no, Remus what is it?"

"It's mine. Roman, I found it!"

Roman? Since when do those two talk? But, as Remus said, Roman walked in.

"Oh, thank Hades."

"Logan had it."

Roman sucked in a breath, "Did he read it?"

Remus shook his head, relief is a weird expression on the man's face.

Logan wouldn't mind seeing it more.

"What is this about?"

Roman took the liberty of answering, "The book is Remus' and it's private. Reading it would be invasive."

"Oh, my apologies, then. But, I had just picked it up, it was left over from Remus' running through the room and into the Imagination, along with some other debris I cleaned up."

"It's alright, nerd."

Logan's gaze lingered on Remus a bit, before he bid his farewells, reminded Roman of some work he needs to do by Friday, then left.

"Y'know," Roman said as they turned to walk back, "You could tell him how you feel."

Remus scoffed, "I'm not self destructive, like you, RoRo."

Ignoring Remus' jabs is difficult for the prince, nevertheless, "And do, pray tell, how it's self destructive?"

"Because he'll say no and that will hurt. I don't like when things actually hurt. I'm not risking him hating me even more."

"Woah, woah, he doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't he? I'm chaotic, irrational, vile, ik everything he fights to keep under control."

Roman digested this and thought hard on how best to explain this, "But that's exactly why you two are perfect for each other. You help him let loose when he's being a stick in the mud and he helps you keep in control of yourself and stay organized.

"You're delusional. He doesn't like me, he can't Ro. It goes against our very beings! Go ahead and fool yourself, but you can't do that to me. That's just cruel." Remus disappeared and Roman sighed as he tried to brush off his brother's words.

As the embodiment of romance, he thinks he'd know when a couple will work out or not. How will he convince his brother and Logan of that? He supposes he can't blame them for that, who would listen to the love advice of someone who loves someone that loves someone else? Kinda hypocritical.

.

.

.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Remus! Would calm down? Just listen to me!"

"No! You're a liar and I hate you! Do you want me to get hurt? You're an asshole you good for nothing prince!" He screamed. Why won't his brother let this go? Doesn't he see that everyone is better this way?

"Fine! You're right! Is that what you want to hear? Call me an asshole, call me stupid, call me evil or whatever! But I'm not wrong! Why don't you believe me? Ha! Why am I trying to reason with the self proclaimed unreasonable?"

Remus looked down from his perch on the guillotine, "Wait, RoRo-!" But he was gone.

"Fuck."

He rushed out, hoping to Loki that he didn't do too much damage.

"Roman!"

But he found who he wants looking for.

"Why are you screaming in the middle of the common room?" Came that cool and sexy voice.

"Looking for my brother, duh."

"Funny, I just spoke to him."

"Where'd he go?"

"Not sure, but he told me to stop being a robotic fake and confess to you."

"He- ? ROMAN!" Remus summoned a hammer and maybe there's a new hole in the wall.

"He was right, surprisingly."

Remus was not expecting that, "Come again?"

"I have noticed, over the course of our interactions, that I have developed feelings that I didn't recognized until Roman brought them to my attention. Remus...I have romantic feelings for you."

And it was the last casual and calculated confession Remus ever heard. He imagined something with ropes. But it was the best thing he ever heard. He didn't expect to be crying.

"Remus?"

"I like you, too..."

Logan brightened and stood up, his heart beating unnaturally, yet pleasently, as he moved closer, "Then... perhaps we...?"

But before he could finish, Remus pulled him in and there was no need for words.

Part 2 with what happened with Roman afterwards?

Ty so much for the request and I apologies for the long wait.

@fireflyjunkie

[morgana-ren]

Damn validation hits different when its from your favorite Shigaraki poster.

No but really creepy obsessed Shigaraki can like get it however it he wants it. Just like that act of having blood on your hands from killing someone "accidentally/on purpose" and Shigaraki making you touch him and in turn touching you with the blood of your friends that he spilled to get your attention is like 🥵🥵🥵. The manipulation, the bloodshed, the unhealthy relationship that's gonna result cause like. You jumped at an opportunity to kill babe, in the end you're just like him. Or Shigaraki forcing you to hold the knife or whatever and kill your remaining friend(s). Its hot and romantic if you think about. Just like spilling blood together even if its accidental is AMAZING

I honestly can't write for shit, I just have ideas and run on sentences but I'll take whatever scraps you throw my way❤

Thank you so much! ❤️ 💕 I’m telling you, it’s a fuckin’ awesome idea. Look, on some level, a lot of us were simpin’ for these slashers. Especially when it came to the ones that got a little too close and personal. One going crazy for you and using your weaknesses against you? Holding your friends lives against you and bending you to his whims or else? Top tier.

Mmmmhmmhmhmmhhaaaaahahaaa okay so I tried my hand at a quick one, just him being a total bastard. You know, cause why not. I can technically make it more crazy and romantic as opposed to ‘total psychopath holds me captive’, but this is what ended up coming out atm. I hope it’s alright! He is not nice, because I never write him nice. He’s actually a complete bastard, but you know.

Tomura shoves you through the rocks and fauna that line the camping area and forward toward one of the craft cabins, practically carrying you at this point because your own legs are too weak to hold your own body weight. 

A quick flip of the switch to turn on the ugly, yellowish flickering lights reveals he's got one of your fellow councilors tied up and unconscious with their head lopped over on their shoulder, a little dribble of blood trailing down their temple from where he hit them with the butt of the knife. You're shaking in his grip as he gently guides you in front of the chair, rubbing up and down your arms in a way that is likely meant to be comforting but gives away his already barely concealed excitement.

"You said you'd do whatever I ask, right?"

Dread blooms, threading through your ribcage and squeezing, suffocating your lungs and anchoring your gut to the floor in abject horror. Bile rises up to tickle your esophagus as he presses the hilt of the blade to your palm- still slick with blood and caked with the viscera of your fellow campers- your friends. You tear your face away. You can't look. You can't look.

"I want you to prove it to me."

His hand constricts across your chin in an iron grip and yanks your face back toward them, your tears pooling in the slats of his fingers. He gently curls each of your own fingers around the knife- so gently in contrast to the way he's lodged against your jaw- before releasing you and shoving you forward.

“You’re going to kill them. I even made it easy for you. He’s out cold- no screaming, no struggling, none of the obnoxious stuff I had to deal with. All you gotta do is push the knife in to prove your loyalty to me.”

The dam breaks and you fall to your knees, shaking your head as the knife falls from your hand and clatters to the floor, spinning aimlessly on its axis. Sobs catch in your throat, hiccupping relentlessly through the choked gasps and guttural blubbers. “I-I can’t! I won’t! You can’t make me do this! Please, Tomura-”

He rolls his eyes, plucking the knife from the floor before threading his hands through your hair to the scalp and jerking you back up to your feet and into his arms again. Your teeth clench at the pain, another sob wracking your spine as you almost double back over. “I can make you do anything I want- Don’t forget what this is.” Releasing your hair, he curls an arm around under your tits, holding you upright, his other pushing the knife back into your sweaty palm, hand curling around yours to guide you. “Don’t forget what happens if you don’t do what I ask. I’ll even help you, if you’ll stop your incessant sniveling.” He moves forward, bringing you with him closer to your target, brandishing the knife entwined in your hands. The sharp blade catches on the collar of their pastel camp shirt, moving lower as Tomura calculates out exactly where to move- he won’t drag this out just to hurt you. He might be cruel, but he’s not a monster.

“Right there-” The tip sits point blank, scaling downward below the inner part of the left clavical bone- stopping approximately between the fourth and fifth ribs and angling the knife upward. Hours of volunteering to teach the camp anatomy lesson tells you as much. “We’ll push it in together right there. It’ll be almost instant, I swear-”

“Please- I can’t-” “You can.” He cranes his neck and kisses your hairline, and you recoil as much as you from his affections. “And you will. For me.” A hideous giggle as he kisses at the shell of your ear. “And for yourself.”

His hand moves forward, taking yours along with him, and the tip of the blade dents in the billow of your victim’s shirt. Your hand shakes, fingers trembling, but guided by Tomura’s movements, it nudges in deeper, and you meet the first level of flesh.

“Now just push it in-”

A small patch of blood begins to bloom outward from the point of contact, piercing his skin as Tomura wedges the blade in deeper with a slow, fluid movement. You could swear that as it embeds further into his skin, that his body quivers and tightens-

“C’mon- Almost there. A few more inches and you’ll be done-”

At this point, he’s the only thing anchoring your hand to the handle, more his efforts than your own. He’s definitely taking far more pleasure in this than you; A terrible, carnivorous smile sliced across his face as he claims your faltering fingers beneath his own. He’s made it perfectly clear what’s to become of you if you dare to defy him, but even as the proverbial guillotine looms above your neck, every instinct in your body screams to shove him off, to run, to hide where he can never find you.

But he’s stronger than you- faster too- made sure to impress upon you that he’s smarter as well. He’s made a point of telling you in explicit detail what will become of you if he has to chase you down again, but the impulse is thrumming through your veins side by side with the adrenaline that makes you nauseous. Even if you could fend him off- even if he couldn’t catch you- you could never go home. He’d spent months planning this down to the marrow. Every little detail orchestrated to look like the handiwork of an unhinged and underappreciated camp councilor- you.

There’s so much blood. On him. On you. Dribbling down the front of the unconscious councilor’s shirt and staining the pastel a stark red that blears your black and white pulsating vision. You can feel his heartbeat in the knife, you swear you can-

“Almost there, baby-”

The blade stills as it meets a meaty wall of resistance and you know it’s reached the his heart. Tomura’s body shivers against yours, knife almost fully driven into the thorax now. You try not to think about how much time it must have taken him to study, how much he must have researched avoiding the sternum and the cage of ribs meant to protect the vital muscle if only to force you to bend for him this way.

“You wanna know something fucked up?” He removes his hand from yours, leaving you gripping the hilt for a split second before you yank yourself backwards, sobbing openly as it stays put, stiffly wobbling slightly from the lack of support once you both withdraw. You turn away from the body, smacking into Shigaraki’s chest even as you try to shove him away. He cradles your face, hands crusted with blood tracing the curve of your cheek, smearing your tears across your skin. “He could technically live through this, if I let him. The heart closes punctures on its own if allowed to do so. At least long enough help could get here.” “Please-” You whine, voice cracking and sinuses draining into your throat and clogging your airway in your distress. “Please! We can leave together, we can go wherever you want! Just call him an ambulance and we’ll go. I’ll go with you willingly, we don’t have to-”

“You’ll come with me anyway, you dumb little slut. I don’t think you’re quite grasping what’s happening here.” He seethes behind clenched teeth, fingers twisting in your uniform. “But I guess you have a point. He doesn’t have to die.”

“Please- Please just-” “Convince me then.”

He pushes you down to the floor again, landing on your knees before him. His hand finds the back of your head, grinding your face onto his crotch hard enough you can feel his stiffening cock against the soft of your cheek.

“What? We don’t have time-” “Better hurry then. Tick tock, princess. I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into finding out how long he can survive.”

Nausea curls up in your gut once more but your fingers still find his zipper, shaking and blinking back tears as you unbutton his trousers. You try to ignore the mocking laugher bubbling in his gut as you fish his cock out from the barrier of fabric, hesitating slightly when your fingers close around the velvety skin of his shaft, hot and throbbing to the touch.

“I don’t know what will be a bigger disappointment- if you don’t know what you’re doing or if you do.” He jeers, taking his dick out of your hands only to slap it against the side of your mouth a few times as he yanks his pantline down enough to free himself fully. “I guess we’ll find out. Either way, you’ll catch on to what I like, won’t you? You were always such a quick little learner.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, shoving the head of his cock past your teeth in a way that seems almost too eager- like a virgin would. You don’t know much about Tomura- had never even really spoken to him before these past few days, but if you had to guess, judging by the way he’s already breathing heavy and looking down at you with manic eyes and sweating profusely from the nape, this is probably the first time he’s ever been touched intimately like this.

“C’mon!- Suck me already-”

It’s not a surprise. He’s brash and rude and a total loner and butted heads with everyone else from the start, and now he’s responsible for countless deaths as well. He probably never found time to woo anyone between his plotting and abhorrent personality. At least it plays in your favor to some degree, since chances are he’ll cum sooner rather than later. The thought of having to take him down your throat makes you sick, but if it’ll save your friend...

You stick out your tongue past your lips, allowing him to slide his length down your throat without obstruction, blinking your bleary doe eyes up at him as you kitten lick his cock. He shivers with every lave of your tongue, his musky scent invading your nostrils as you try to repress your gag reflex to allow him deeper.

“Oh, fuck yes-“

He stutters his hips, rolling them against your face until you’re flush with the course and curly white litany of hairs nested at the base of his pelvis. His musky busk clogs your senses and cloys up your sinuses, but you’re determined to please him- this isn’t about you anymore- so you shove down the disgust and focus on pampering his cock as best as you can given the circumstances.

“Shit- you’re such a little slut for me. Look at you go, taking my fat cock like a pro-“

You purse your lips around him, locking an airtight seal around the base of his prick and covering your teeth with your lips. The edges swell your lips with every bob of your head, but his moans clue you into the fact that you must be doing something right, so you ignore the discomfort in favor of taking him further down your throat instead.

His hand finds the crown of your head again, closing around your scalp and forcing his cock down into the depths of your throat as he shoves you deeper until your lips are practically pressed against his navel. Gagging is inevitable, as he’s not exactly small, but you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose instead- though the hot, heady air near his groin does you no favors.

“Come on, baby, take my dick- fuck, you’re such a good little whore for me- suck my cock- fuck, such a good girl-“

He’s close, he’s so close you can taste it. The slimy consistency of precum coats your mouth and he’s throbbing against your throat- he’s almost ready to cum, just a bit more, just a bit-

The tangy smell of blood and arousal sits heavy in the air and even as you want to cry, you swallow him further, closing your throat around him and massaging him with the silken cavern of your throat, letting him fuck your mouth to his liking. Drool spills from the sides of your mouth, swollen lips puffed around his shaft, and he looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Gunna cum- gunna come down your fucking throat- you’ll swallow it all-“ his other hand clumsily slaps against your cheek, massaging your cheekbone with hands still blood-wet. “Take it all, you fucking whore- fuck, so pretty, so pretty, all mine now-“

He throbs and you can feel it, cum spurting from his cock down your throat and into your belly. You almost gag, having to force down the sputters with a red face and weepy, bulging eyes. He doesn’t relent his grip, keeping you stuck on his cock as he moans loud and unabashed enough that it leaves you humiliated even as you know that everyone else in the vicinity too long gone to hear it.

You try to swallow it down, try to stomach it all, but it proves just a bit too much. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he’d been withholding for a while. Tapping his thighs, coughing around his length until he finally has the wherewithal to take the hint, he withdraws from you as you cough up small bits of spittle and cum onto the knees of his jeans and your own mouth. You fall down onto your side, hacking up bits of liquid that clearly went down the wrong pipe as he tucks himself away back in his pants.

He kneels down before you, patting your back in a condescending manner with a sinister, lofty smile. You try desperately to get a word out between convulsions, and it doesn’t help that he’s pulling you to your feet before your vision can clear itself, yanking you up into his arms and over his shoulder with one careless heave.

“You did real good, baby- I can’t wait to fuck that tight little cunt of yours when we get back- You’re so perfect- Fuck that was incredible, everything like I dreamed but better-”

You pound on his back, pointing at your friend. They sit limply, knife still jabbed in their chest. Their skin is a sickly pale color, blood running down and pooling in their lap and absorbing into the fabric of their clothing.

“Call- first- please-”

“Huh?” He looks back at the chair and the body tied down to it, grin faltering slightly. “Oh. They’re gone. Long gone. See?” He turns on his heel, bringing his shoe up to kick at the butt of the knife, lodging it deeper into the corpse with one quick stomp of his shoe. There’s no movement, not even a cry or a whimper or a rattle. “They were already dead. I stabbed them in the back of the neck earlier. It was quick, if that makes you feel better. They didn’t feel a thing-” He pats your ass, giving it a quick smack. “But you sure did, didn’t you?”

You wail and kick and scream, energy renewed as his horrific deception and that sickening feeling in your gut plunging further and further into sick. He only cackles, easily keeping you under control with one hand slung around your waist and his shoulder digging into your gut.

“Good call though. Can’t be leaving the murder weapon behind. Memories of our first kill  together and all.”

He yanks the knife out in one swift movement, body slumping over from the momentum and you see the ghastly wound right at the base of the back of his neck.

He was already dead. He was already dead.

[luckyblackcloverrr]

The Black Bulls and their bullshit in the modern time: jobs I guess – Part. 3

Finally the last part is done! Thanks for following the short series of my cursed imagination until now. Here's more headcanons that weren't supposed to be headcanons :D. I made them a little longer than the previous parts, and I hope you all enjoy the mess that is Charmy's restaurant!

Magna Swing

works at the counter in Charmy’s restaurant

nobody knows how he got that job when he shows up to work looking like a teen delinquent going through puberty

keeps his sunglasses on even in indoors

had to learn how to use the cashier machine for the first time

accidentally repeated the order with the machine too many times and the total came out to a four-digit number

the customer got a discount in the end

there was one time when the machine malfunctioned and they thought they had to buy a new one

Magna came in and gave the thing a big smack, and it miraculously started to work again

Noelle gave him the title 'God of Fixing Things Through Abuse', shortened to 'FTTA God'

and now everybody at work refers to him with that title

he doesn’t like it because he’d rather be referred to as something cooler, but he lets them call him that anyway

has very short temper, will not hesitate to call out rude customers

someone once made an offhanded comment about Secré who was too busy to care and he went OFF

both Noelle and Secré had to work together to calm him down when he threatened to fight them outside of the restaurant

wanted to help out in the kitchen because he thinks he has a “thing” with fire, and Charmy let him try when working hours were over

proceeded to set the whole kitchen on fire and from then on Charmy forbade him from going into the kitchen ever again

convinced Charmy to buy a TV and put it in the restaurant so that he can watch baseball games when working

but he once switched the channel to a cartoon show and lost the remote

now he’s forever stuck on watching Miraculous Ladybug

Luck Voltia

King of Working Part Time Jobs™

works at every single shop known to date and jumps between each shop from time to time

sometimes he’ll be in the boutique:

running around the whole store to help customers look for their needed items because he didn’t memorise where each section was

and proceeds to mess up the folded clothes and now Henry has to fold them again

sometimes he’ll be in the restaurant:

ordering and serving the customers their food, even though he doesn’t remember which order belongs to which table

and also cleaning the tables when the customers finish eating

but it’s the best thing he can do there because absolutely no one trusts him in working in the kitchen

and sometimes he’ll be in the café:

bringing out coffee and dessert orders during rush hour because the others are too busy taking orders and making them

and when the shop clears up after a while he spends time watching Finral and Grey brew the drinks

the other bulls wonder how he hasn’t been fired from any of his jobs yet

but that’s because he surprisingly does well for the roles he was assigned to (and extremely fast too)

the only time he has messed up was when he ran too fast when serving food and he tripped and it spilled all over the place

and he went “oops! hahaha ;P”

Magna watching from the counter: i’m gonna kill him

stole the TV remote from Magna when he wasn’t looking and brought it to the boutique so he couldn’t switch channels

always competes with Magna on who can earn the most money

and it somehow always ends in a draw because Secré earns the most out of all of them

Secré Swallowtail

waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 1

was dragged into working there, doesn’t even know why she’s doing it in the first place

but she works well, and store would have fallen apart if she wasn’t there

unanimously voted Employee of the Month every month

takes part in everything; including cleaning, serving, making drinks, settling payments, calming down crying children, calming down a hyper Luck

you name it, and she probably does it or has done it before for the sake of the restaurant

unlike Noelle and Magna, she's extremely unbothered

doesn’t matter if there’s someone being rude or causing a ruckus, she shrugs it off like it’s nothing and just moves on

she’s focused on doing her job and her job only

will only take action if she is touched physically or if other customers are visibly bothered

was the person who consoled Magna when he found out the TV remote went missing

but didn’t tell him that he could actually switch the channels without using the remote

death stares everyone to work when they are slacking off

the person who forced everyone into practicing fire drills in case of emergencies

hums the opening of Miraculous Ladybug because she has heard it playing too much from the speakers

and also because Magna screams the words of the song every time the show airs

is secretly thankful for Luck whenever he visits for his part-time shift

because he picked up the mechanisms of the restaurant SUPER FAST, and things run surprisingly much smoother with him around

lets Noelle style her hair whenever they have free time

ends up looking like a chicken because Noelle has no prior experience in hairstyling despite showing interest in it

and also because she used too much hair spray

Noella Silva

waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 2

claims that she is too high class for this job

but next thing you know she’s putting on her customer service voice when ordering and serving food

took awhile to learn how to work in a restaurant

she couldn't hold the food tray and walk at the same time

and she kept serving the dishes to the wrong table

blamed it on the customers for confusing her, and Secré showed up afterwards to apologise for her behaviour

definitely had 'How to become a Waitress 101' lessons with Secré

takes absolutely no shit from anyone

doesn’t matter how much authority they have around the area, she will not hesitate to kick them out if they don’t treat others properly

would probably spill water on a customer and blame it on the customer for being in the way

becomes more diligent whenever Asta brings the children he's babysitting to the restaurant

also keeps tabs on his table just in case anyone starts to hit on him

rich, but doesn't take it for granted

because she doesn't understand the importance of money and how much she actually has

treats everyone to ice cream, especially on hot days

sometimes pays for the restaurant's bills because she insists

Magna always complains about her flexing her wealth

he shuts up when he gets the ice cream though

claims that she has absolutely no interest in cartoons and thinks they are childish

but is the person who sits at an empty table complaining about how dense the characters in Miraculous Ladybug are when it isn't rush hour

accidentally set off the fire alarm once

because she got scared when lighting a match and threw the lit match at Magna

payed for his motorcycle repair as an apology

Charmy Pappitson

owner of the most popular restaurant downtown

customers ask for her autograph and a photo with her sometimes

a very talented chef that everybody appreciates and respects

a cute, smiley person when greeting new customers and always keeps up with regulars

offers the most amazing dishes for a very reasonable price

whenever she has the time, she steps out of the kitchen to chat with the customers about food and check up on the other bulls (just in case)

but when it comes to the kitchen OHOHO

she gets VERY serious about cooking

in dire situations, she’ll stay cooped up in the kitchen and won’t come out until she has made the perfect dish

has several other chefs cooking in there with her, but no one has ever met them before

though the food comes out good so nobody questions it

does not trust any of the black bulls to cook food after Magna set the kitchen on fire

there is a framed photo of her hung up in the restaurant where everyone can see it

whenever she’s serving food, she has to hold back from eating it all

Secre and Noelle are her impulse controllers, if not the food will never make it to the customers’ table

makes desserts as a hobby and gives them to the customers for free sometimes as service

also donates some food to the local church every month, and offers more if she sees Marie

once dropped a freshly baked cupcake and cried about it for 2 hours

forgets to pay the workers sometimes

weekly gatherings with all the Black Bulls happen at Charmy’s restaurant

that time is usually when she tries new recipes and ask for everyone’s opinions

literally a whole party goes down every week at her place

there are noise complaints every time, but she ignores them because Finral is probably already apologizing for them

Parts - 1 | 2 | 3

[bytheangell]

Married to the Dark

( @shadowhunterbingo​ square: Vampire!Alec, Rated Teen, No Archive Warnings) (Read on AO3)

To say what follows Alec's suggestion of Simon turning him into a vampire is a ‘discussion’ is being generous. Everyone speaks at once, an overwhelming cacophony of voices trying to be heard over each other. When they do unify to take turns it’s only to shout at Alec one at a time, to tell him over and over that he’s being drastic.

Like Izzy hadn’t almost been de-runed to protect Meliorn and save his life.

Like Jace and Clary haven’t put themselves in the position to die for each other more than once.

Like drastic measures for the ones they care about isn’t par for the course around here.

“Listen, Alec. I know you love Magnus. We all do, and so does he. No one expects you to do this just because you can. He’d never ask you to give up your life,” Jace argues.

“And I’d never ask him to give up his,” Alec counters, immediately on the defensive. “It hasn’t stopped him before.”

“At least take a night to think it over. We’ll reach out to every contact we have, every resource. Give us the chance to find another way,” Izzy pleads.

Alec’s tired. He’s so tired; tired of being afraid, tired of regretting the decisions that he’s made, tired of regretting the decisions he didn’t make, tired of constantly being at odds with everyone around him. He’s just tired. Too tired to argue any longer or shout back, even though he feels like he should be screaming right now, as loud and demanding as the thoughts in his head are.

Instead, he sighs.

“Fine. We’ll reconvene in the morning.” Alec chooses his words carefully, not agreeing to wait. He already knows that the moment they leave he’s going to march himself over to the Dumort to see if he can’t get some other vampire to agree in Simon’s place. The sooner he can get the others out of his hair, the sooner he can get started - he’ll need a few hours to set his affairs in order in case things go wrong.

Hell, he needs his affairs in order in case things go right. Because worst-case scenario he dies permanently, but best-case scenario he dies temporarily and comes back a vampire, and he needs to make sure things are in order for Izzy and Jace to take over in his stead, for the Downworlder Council to still run without him to helm it, and a number of other bureaucratic red tape issues that come to mind.

The group disperses, each of them giving Alec parting glances full of concern, and he does his best not to meet them with looks of bitterness and defiance. He knows they’re trying to look out for him but they don’t know what’s best for him. They don’t understand the desperation in his soul that tears him apart more and more every second he fails to save Magnus.

Alec knows what he needs to do. As the people closest to him leave the room Alec thanks them for being here for him, he thanks them for understanding, though they don’t realize he’s saying it in the hopes of them understanding what he’s about to do next. He hugs each of them goodbye - possibly for the last time - and tries not to show the sense of potential finality he feels with each lingering embrace.

“Alec?”

Simon’s voice startles Alec, so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize the vampire hadn’t followed the others out of the room.

“Listen, I’m sorry I put you on the spot back there,” Alec says, coupling the words with another heavy sigh. Simon hates blood, and his own death and rebirth are still fresh enough to probably be pretty traumatizing to relive like this. And that’s outside of asking Simon to not only break the accords but to stand back and passively watch him die… it was impulsive and entirely out of line. An ‘I’m sorry’ really doesn’t cut it, Alec realizes, but he doesn’t have time for much else just then. “That was… it’s a lot.”

“You’re telling me,” Simon says, with a laugh that doesn’t quite sound genuine. A moment later the forced smile fades entirely into a deep-set frown. “You’re doing this tonight, aren’t you?”

“Simon…”

“Don’t lie to me, Alec. Those were goodbyes.” Simon doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“Yeah, they were,” Alec answers anyway. “Obviously, I don’t expect you to be the one to do it. I’ll find someone else, just don’t tell the others.”

“That’s the thing,” Simon says. “I don’t want to, but I also don’t want you to go to anyone else. If you are going to go through with this… I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Alec feels hopeful for the first time since Magnus left.

“But you need to really think about it because this isn’t some solution you run with on a whim. Most of the vampires I know never would’ve chosen this life. I know I wouldn’t have.” It’s strange to hear Simon so serious.

They haven’t talked about Clary’s decision to bury Simon as a group since it happened. Alec assumes he and Clary have, but Alec isn’t particularly close with either of them. Instead of finding Simon’s doubt that he’s thought this through annoying, Alec takes the concern to heart.

“Do you regret it?” Alec asks. This isn’t a conversation he particularly wants to have, but it’s one he knows he should before he finalizes the decision he’s already entirely set on in his mind.

“Sometimes,” Simon admits. “Sometimes I’m pretty sure I won’t last long after all of you… after you’re gone.”

There’s a heavy pause, and Alec wonders if Simon’s ever told that to anyone else before.

“I’m not telling you not to do it. I just… I want to make sure you really think about it. I guess that’s my duty as the resident immortal while Magnus is gone.” Simon manages a half-hearted huff of a laugh.

Alec nods. “I know what it means for me. And for my family. I don’t even know if Magnus would stay with me afterward if I did it… if it works. That’s how I know I’m serious about it - because I’d still do it to save him, even if he leaves me for it.”

Alec knows the truth of it. He doesn’t have any rose-colored mental images of riding off into the immortal sunset with Magnus on the other side of all this. But at least the choice is his alone this time, unlike the deal with Asmodeus - whatever happens to the two of them afterward is Magnus’ decision, for better or worse.

One thing is still the same: he’d do anything to save Magnus, even if he loses him in the fallout.

“Tell me you wouldn’t do the same to save Clary. Or your sister.” Alec challenges, desperate for Simon to see his side of this, to agree without a fight, and maybe even help him convince the others that it’s a risk worth taking.

“Of course I would,” Simon agrees, after only a moment’s pause.

“What about Izzy?” Alec knows he has no right to ask, especially not now, but he can’t help it.

Simon tenses at the question.

“I know the two of you are… new. But if I do this and things go sideways… look out for her for me, will you? Promise you’ll be there for her, and Jace, too?”

“You want me to kiss Jace?” Simon asks, and though he tries to force the light tone of a joke it’s tainted by the weight of their topic of conversation.

Alec rolls his eyes.

“I’d say that I would, but if you die and I’m the one who killed you, I can’t imagine I’m going to be much comfort,” Simon points out.

“Fair,” Alec agrees, once more aware of the weight of what he’s asking Simon to do and the position he’s putting the vampire in. “But try anyway?”

Simon nods in silent agreement.

“Listen, Simon. I get it. The concept of immortality, the idea of abandoning the life I was raised in by turning myself into one of the things I was raised to hunt? It fucking terrifies me. But if it’s my only way into Edom before it’s too late to save Magnus then I’m going to do it. Maybe it’s foolish and reckless, and the biggest mistake of my life - but it’s mine to make.”

Alec watches Simon shuffle around a bit, bouncing his weight from one foot to the other while avoiding Alec’s gaze. After bouncing back and forth between desperate pleading and trying to force himself to stay calm enough to hold a rational conversation about his own life and potential immortality, Alec knows there’s a lot here to process. This isn’t a decision to be made lightly for either of them.

“Alright,” Simon says finally, more to himself than to Alec. “Fuck. Alright. We’re doing this. Let’s do this.”

Alec’s heartbeat doubles in speed at those words, the anticipation and anxiety ramping up immediately. They’re really going to do this. He’s really going to do this.

“Give me… two hours. I have some things I need to do first,” Alec says.

“Sure. That gives me time to get what I need, too,” Simon says. Alec doesn’t ask what he’s going to say to get the blood bags Alec will need when (if) he turns. He has enough to worry about on his end of things.

Simon’s nearly to the door when he stops and faces Alec again. “And to answer your question… I would. I’d do it to save Izzy’s life, too.”

Alec smiles at that, his first genuine smile since everything fell apart.

Izzy will have Simon. Jace has Clary. Maryse has Luke. Max has all of them. Alec’s decision sits a little easier knowing those who would feel his loss the hardest would be taken care of in his absence, should things go wrong.

Something in Alec settles with that reassurance, and he feels a renewed confidence that things are falling into place because this is the right call. He can do this. He has to do this because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

So Alec gets to work, comforted by the knowledge that everyone he cares about has a person who cares about them just as much, someone he’s certain would protect them at any cost.

Alec has one, too - and now it’s time to go save him.

[look-ma-im-on-tv]

Crying

Dark Side!Roman

AO3 Link

Warnings: Self-harm by hitting, descriptions of anxiety, yelling, caps, let me know of any I need to add!

Description: Hurt/Comfort. Roman is devastated, and all he seems to do is make things worse, so he takes himself out of the situation. And since his feelings seem to make everything worse, he gets rid of those too.

Pairings: Familial... everyone I don't remember what that's called anymore.

I was possessed to write this I stg.

Crying.

Roman felt tears streaming down his face. Everyone just stared at him, curious expressions, but he couldn’t recognize even a hint of concern on their faces. He was frozen, unmoving, chains pulling every part of him down and tying him to the floor. His feet couldn’t lift, his lips couldn’t form words, his lungs couldn’t take in air. He was waiting for something but he didn’t know what. Permission to leave? For everyone else to leave? He wouldn’t know until it happened, and until that point, he was stuck here watching everyone stare at him.

Someone started to speak. To criticise him, he was sure, though he couldn’t make out their words through the fog in Roman’s head. The only thing he could do was fight at the invisible chains, desperately hoping that he’d leave. He was making a fool of himself, sitting here, crying. Just crying. Over his own damn mistake. The tips of his fingers tingled numbly. His short fast breathing felt as if it threatened to rip him apart.

Roman was shaking. He needed out. He needed free. He ripped at his arms, and finally convinced himself to sink out as fast as he could, knocking the breath out of himself in the process.

Roman’s familiar room carpet felt rough under his palms, scratchy, digging, too much. He yanked his hands up to his chest as fast as he could, kneeling on the floor of his room. A sob escaped him, with a wave of tears following. Roman sneered at himself. He was being such a bad person. He just had to run away. After something that was entirely his fault. How could he do this to them? He only ever made everything worse, he knew it. He felt his hand make a sharp movement, and a harsh thud against his thigh. Roman curled in from the pain. He felt his own eyes gloss over, tears suddenly stopping. He fell down onto his side, the rough carpet digging into his cheek.

He laid there, nearly unmoving, for hours or minutes. He couldn’t tell. Every time he felt stinging in his eyelids, from whatever painful thought came to his mind, a more painful thud followed. Harsh thoughts came by, they really don’t want you anyways; they’re happy you’re gone; they barely put up with you already, why would they come for you?

You’re just a villain.

Roman cried out, curling tighter into himself. The thought felt like a blade plunging into his chest. The world around him darkened in his vision, he was gasping for breath. He could barely feel himself move. It felt like he was dying.

Thud, thud, thud.

His tears kept coming, for so long. He kept crying. Sometimes he would completely fall apart, sobbing and screaming, then just as suddenly as it came on, it would stop. He’d lay there on the floor, silent, limbs throbbing with pain.

Roman felt bruises developing and smiled dryly. Eventually, everything slowed. And everything stopped. He could feel his heart beating and slowing in his chest. His fingers, his hands, felt numb. Felt separate from him. He held his hands out in front of him and noticed absently that a deep black color was bleeding out from the center of his palms and from each of his knuckles. His eyes burned every time he blinked. He shut his eyes tight, thick tears wetting his eyelashes once more. But this time, there was nothing behind them, no feeling, and no thud following.

Roman opened his eyes and from the small amount of his room he could see, he realized he couldn’t stand any of this anymore. His noble decorations, his stark white outfit, the royal red he once so admired; it all made him sick. Without moving a muscle, it all suddenly began to change. The little crowns and stars and hearts cracked in two. A black ink spot began in the middle of his chest, spreading in every direction until it reached the cuffs of his sleeves and the hems of his pants. And the red in his room bled out, disappearing and leaving only a dark grey behind. Roman managed a glance around the room, and was almost pleased with it all. It was far more fitting than the mirage he previously had surrounding him.

At the head of the room was a single chair. It replaced any other furnishing that was previously in the room. A lavish chair, black, and with shining gold decorations. Roman could just spot it out of the corner of his eye. And before he could even blink, he was sitting upright in it, one leg crossed over the other.

And like before, Roman was chained. But it was different this time. He didn’t want to escape. He didn’t feel the panic, the fear, the pain. And he knew what he was waiting for this time. Even if he wasn’t fully sure it was ever going to happen.

He was waiting for them. Whether they would be coming to stop him or save him didn’t matter, though the latter seemed very impossible. Roman was going to stay out of things. He wasn’t going to come and ruin things for everyone. However, if there was any chance they may come for him, he may as well look presentable.

Roman hadn’t come back. Everyone tried their best to give him his space, they weren’t sure what else to do. But usually, if someone needed space, they came back after a day or two. But it had been weeks, and everyone was sick of waiting.

“He can’t just not come back. Thomas needs more than half of his creativity. This is becoming a problem. How selfish does he have to-”

“Virgil, be patient with him.” Logan corrected him. “If he requires time alone, we should let him have it.”

“I know. I’m just…”

“Angry. I understand. But we must give him his time.”

“But-!” Patton shouted, “we can’t just leave him you guys! What if he’s hurt?”

Remus nodded. “Daddy here’s right, I’m not just leaving him with his thoughts. He’s not even letting me get to him through the imagination, it’s like he’s just… vanished.”

“Yeah! I’d want someone to come and try to care for me if I felt bad.” Patton continued.

Logan cocked his head to the side. “Well, that seems to be a tied vote. Janus? Do you have an opinion of your own that you might like to share?”

Janus raised his eyebrows. “Me?” He hummed. “I could get used to this. I suppose we should check on him. I mean, there is no chance he’s actually wanting us to come but is simply too afraid to ask.”

“Three to two. I suppose we can go check on him, so long as we do our best not to intrude.”

“Field trip!” Remus giggled.

Virgil groaned. “Can’t you at least try to take this seriously?”

Remus stopped in his tracks and turned to him with a completely stoic face. “No.” He shook his head. “No.” And as if the conversation never happened, he continued skipping away with a manic smile towards Roman’s room while everyone else sank out.

They all gathered in front of Roman’s room.

Patton gasped. “Is that his door?”

“It’s where it used to be, but…”

“It’s currently black, that’s odd. Why would his door change colors?”

“Well, that explains a lot for me at least! It’s been a pain in the ass to keep re-dying this!” Remus shouted, just approaching. But, suddenly he was different. His outfit adorned the bright white of Roman’s, and the green was slowly trying to fade into red.

Virgil nearly lunged at him. “What? You didn’t think to tell us anything about this? What, did you think it was funny?”

“Well, this is clearly far more significant than I originally assumed. Since you two are connected, this is likely an effect sourcing from Roman himself. We need to get in there immediately.”

Patton started urgently knocking on the door, poorly feigning calmness. “Roman? Kiddo? What’s up in there? Can you let us in?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Knocking is definitely the best strategy.”

“Well, what else should we do? It’s not like we can just break-”

“Remus, will you please break down the door?”

Before Janus could even finish his sentence, Remus already had his morning star raised and ready to strike. He swung it down, and a huge crack! came from the wood splintering. It wasn’t broken yet. Remus swung again, and again, tears beginning to pool in his eyes with every hit.

“Just! Let! Us! In!” Remus swung again, and the door gave way, making Remus fall through the pieces with the remaining force of his swing. He sat on the floor of his brother’s room, if you could even tell that’s what it was. It looked completely different.

Everyone else spilled in behind Remus, and stopped. The room was all black, with all sorts of the old decorations, papers, crafts, everything torn up and thrown across the floor. It was nearly impossible to see anything it was so dark, if it weren’t for the golden glow coming from across the room. In the center of the glow was a black throne, a dark figure sitting in it.

“Roman?”

His clothes were entirely black, save for some gold trim. And his face had dark black tear streaks that looked like flowing rivers of tar on his cheeks. His hands were pitch black and disconnected at the wrists. And the only trace of emotion on his face was a staged, cold smile.

“I’ve been waiting.”

Remus stood, weapon at the ready. “What have you done with my brother!?” he screeched.

“What are you talking about? I am your brother. The only difference is that I’m not pretending that I’m the hero anymore. That was a stupid idea to begin with, so I’m sure you understand.” His voice was monotone, with no trace of feeling or emotion, just flat and dead.

Patton’s own tears started spilling over. “What are you talking about? You are a hero, Roman! What happened?”

“I realized the truth. I make problems. Impulse decisions that hurt Thomas, because I felt too much. I was too emotional. So I took my feelings, and myself, out of it.”

“Emotions are an important part of Thomas, Roman. You should understand that.”

“No, you should understand, Logan. Thomas’ emotions are important. Not the ones I put into everything.” Roman’s hand waved away the conversation. “Besides, he’s got a different creativity, why would he need two? You seem to be doing so much better with me gone. You’re not fighting as much.”

“Bitch, I can’t be the only creativity! You know we had things the way we did for a reason, asshole! Now give me my brother back!”

“You are an integral part of Thomas as you were, Roman.”

“Roman, please! You know that’s not true!”

The scattered objects surrounding them flew up into the air and started spinning. “QUIET!” Roman shouted. “You’re all WRONG!”

The right hand, completely separate from Roman himself, curled up into a fist and slammed into the side of his face. Remus lunged at him, but was suddenly ripped back and thrown towards the back of the wall. Roman gasped, then returned to a completely stoic expression.

Roman’s eyes had a tinge of concern. “Remus? Are you hurt?”

Remus was already standing again. “No. Not at all, no thanks to you, dickwad!” He started to charge again, barely reaching the same point before he was thrown backward again.

“It’s not exactly… Well, it shouldn’t hurt anyways. But you can’t get too close. I can’t let you.”

“What did you want us here for if you won’t even let us approach?”

“I was just waiting in case you came. I didn’t expect you to. I guess it’s just a chance for you to know where I ended up. If you want, you can leave now.”

Virgil mustered everything he could and took a step forward. “We’re not gonna abandon you, princey. Not like this.”

“And what’s wrong with ‘this?’ I like ‘this’ perfectly fine, you can go.”

Janus stepped forward with Virgil. “We both know that isn’t the truth. This isn’t a solution to feeling bad. This is only hurting you more.”

“Why would you want to help me? Either of you?” Roman shook his head. “And anyway, that’s the thing. I don’t feel bad. I can’t now. It’s perfect. I can’t make those mistakes anymore. I won’t call either of you names, because I have no feelings to make me lash out. It’s perfect.”

“But you can’t feel good either, Roman!” Patton pleaded. “There’s a reason we have emotions, don’t you like feeling happy?”

“I…” Something flickered in his eyes. “Even ‘good’ feelings only caused problems. Those are the ones that made me choose things that would only be bad for Thomas. Like… a chance in a lifetime callback.” He chuckled dryly, his breath catching partway through. His expression changed, a frown and furrowed brows. “I…” The hands curled up and pressed into his eyes. Then, just as suddenly as he had started, he shot back up into the same pose and expression as before. It was almost as if it was a whole other person sitting there. “I promise, I’ve thought this through. It’s the best option for everyone.”

“Well, we didn’t exactly get to vote on it, did we?”

Roman laughed. “Are you kidding me? Why are you all trying to stop this? You have to pick one you know! You can’t just want me there when it’s convenient for you! All I did was make mistakes, so I took myself out of it! And now… That’s a mistake too? No! No, you’re wrong. I know what I’m doing. I’m helping!” A tear spilled out of his eye, and he winced in anticipation. Thud. Thud. Thud.

With every hit, someone ran forward, trying to stop it before just being tossed backward. It wasn’t supposed to hurt them, but Roman couldn’t focus enough to be gentle. Patton, Remus, and Virgil lay at the back of the room, the breath knocked out of their lungs.

Logan and Janus stood still in the middle of the room.

Roman’s head shot up, the hands returning next to his wrists. His face was covered even more in the thick tear streaks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His voice was cracking with the effort to keep it steady. “You need to leave. All of you. I thought that I was better already, but I’m not. If you ever want to visit you- no. No, you can’t visit. That’ll make things worse. So just… Get out.”

“We aren’t leaving you, Roman.”

“It can be tempting to shut yourself away from the world, and away from feelings and emotions, however, you need to realize that this isn’t healthy.”

He shook his head. “Stop telling me I’m wrong. I don’t care what you think, you just need to leave.”

“Roman, none of us are bad, including you. You just need to-”

“I said STOP! You’re making things worse by being in here. If you won’t leave on your own I’ll make you leave. Why won’t you just listen to me? It’s for your own good!”

Logan started, “Roman, we-” and disappeared.

“What did you do with him?” Janus demanded.

“He’s not hurt! I just... sent him to his room and closed the door.” He paused for a moment. “Goodbye.”

And Janus disappeared too. Remus, Virgil, and Patton sat up against the wall furthest from Roman.

“You have to leave too. I’m sorry. Bye.”

“Wait!” Patton shouted. “Roman?”

He froze. “What? You can’t convince me to stop this.”

“I think I know that. But for what it’s worth… You’re my hero, Roman. I’ll see ya later.” Patton turned to the other two and smiled. “Good luck, I think you got this. You can get through to him I’m sure.” Patton sunk out.

The room got darker, and Roman’s hands clasped over his ears. “No! No, you can’t just-!” He shook his head, his breathing erratic.

Virgil and Remus nodded to each other, and Virgil stood up.

“Roman? Can you hear me?”

“Quiet! You can’t-!”

“I know. It’s scary. Trust me, I get that. But it’s okay! You can feel bad!”

“No!”

“Yes, you can! You’re strong enough.”

Thick tears poured down his face. “I- It just ruins things!”

“I know what that feels like! But even the parts you think are bad are important.”

“You don’t-”

Virgil took a few steps forward. “Yes, I do! Roman, I’ve ducked out! I know what you’re going through! But you’re just as important as everyone else, emotions and all. You do a lot of good for Thomas. For everyone!”

A sob broke through. “I don’t-”

“Yes you do, Roman. You’re so important. And we care about- no, we love you, Roman. You’re part of the family. You know that.”

“I’m… You… No! I can’t-!” The hands raised up, ready to strike, but stopped in their place. Roman blinked, and Virgil disappeared.

Remus stood. “Virgil? Shit!” It was his turn now. He stepped closer. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Roman’s head snapped up, the hands lowering. “Remus? You’re… still here?”

“Of course I am! Now cut this shit out!”

“What… no, no, I’m not going to. I have to keep this.”

“Why? It’s ridiculous!”

“No, it’s not! It’s helping!”

Remus took another step. “How is this supposed to be helping? You just threw me against a wall!”

“That was an accident! I didn’t-”

Remus groaned. “It’s fine. Just stop all this.”

Roman cried, “I can’t!” His head hung down. “I can’t stop any of this!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s… safe! If I just stay in here and don’t feel anything, and you all stay out, no one can get hurt!”

He just had to get close enough. “Getting hurt is part of life, dumbass! But it’s worth it because so is everything else. You get to be happy, you get to have people who care for you!”

“They don’t really ca-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence, you know that’s a goddamn lie! Why else would we come here?” Remus sighed and shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Ro-bro, we care about you a lot. No one wants to leave you here to rot.”

“Ro… You haven’t called me that in years.”

He was almost there. “We’ve both fucked up, okay? Just cause we’re different doesn’t mean we should fucking fight about it.”

Roman didn’t respond. Remus stepped closer.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure that out later, when you’re back.”

“I just don’t want to be the bad guy. I’m sorry that I made you take that role.”

“I know you don’t. You’re not the bad guy. Neither of us are.” He was close enough now. “Roman, you can still be the hero.” Remus kneeled in front of the throne, tears spilling down his own face. “You just need to come back, Ro-bro. It’ll be okay.”

Roman smiled sadly and limply collapsed into Remus, his own hands clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

“Please… please don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to, Ro-bro.” Roman closed his eyes.

The door behind them swung open, smacking the wall next to it. Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Janus came running through. The brothers were back to their proper colors.

Virgil hesitated. “Is he… okay?”

Remus wiped his face. “Yeah, I think he will be. Let’s get him out of this shithole though, he’s been here for long enough.”

Remus stood up and carried Roman to the door. Everyone else stood there.

“What… happened?”

“A lot. But he’s better now. Meet you all downstairs at the couch. Don’t come empty-handed, it’s movie night.” And he walked away.

Virgil and Janus brought down as many blankets and pillows as they could find; Logan grabbed the movies and a special weighted blanket for Roman, and Patton supplied the food and hot chocolate.

Roman was situated in the middle of everyone, still sleeping. When he did wake up, a couple of movies in, everyone smiled at him.

“What…” His eyes widened. “Are- are you all okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Roman. We’re here for you, and we’re all okay.” Patton beamed, “I’m so proud of you for making it through that.”

“But I…”

“That must have been horrific to go through, but you were very brave,” Janus added.

“You’re all okay? I don’t… remember much. But I-” Roman tried to sit up suddenly, and winced. “I- you were flying at the wall and- are you sure you’re okay?” Remus, Virgil, and Patton nodded.

“We’re fine, Princey. We promise.”

“I… I’m so tired.”

“Well, there’s no way we can tell quite how long it’s been since you slept, so that’s not exactly unexpected.”

Janus agreed. “You should rest Roman, it will be good for you.”

“But, you-”

“We’ll all be here when you wake up kiddo, let yourself rest.”

“Re? You…”

“Quiet, I’m taking a nap too.” He smiled, genuinely. “It’s a lot of work saving your ass Ro-bro. We should get back to sleep.” He closed his eyes. “We’re both heroes for getting through all that today. We can talk later.” He paused. “And if I’m not here when you wake up, you can always come get me. We’re there for each other.”

Roman felt his tears on his cheeks, but they were good this time. He felt so warm, and safe, and loved. He let himself breathe, lay his head down, and close his eyes. He was finally relaxed, and happy. Roman fell asleep, surrounded by everyone he cared about, with a smile on his face.

Heroes.

[maandags]

Can you please do hcs for Keith atla au where he is a earthbender and falls for a run away Royal female firebender reader?

Keith has always been very protective. be it of his family, friends, or his home; as a true and tried earthbender he feels like he has a duty of protection to his people 

this, of course, is merely a long winded way of saying he does not particularly like the fire nation.

Let Alone firebenders.

Let Alone Royal firebenders.

but you’re not an idiot, either.

you ran away for a reason, after all, didn’t you? you knew the horrors of what your father -- the Firelord -- is currently doing to the people of the Earth Kingdom in particular

and you wanted no part in it

in fact, you were on a journey to Ba Sing Se, where you’d hopefully find someone willing to listen who’d accept your help

you’d been keeping tabs. you knew about your father’s plans, knew who at the council table he trusted most and whose ideas he was most likely to follow, and you knew the way his advisors thought 

the decision to actually run away really had only followed after. an impulsive decision when you found you just couldn’t stand it anymore. you just had to go

so you kind of... did

you know you’re looked for everywhere

but once you got a change of clothes and cut your hair you knew people would have a hard time recognising you – especially since you never really got outside much, so not many people know what you actually look like, and it’s easy to hide your identity

so, naturally, when you stumble across Keith’s hometown on your way to Ba Sing Se, he’s suspicious, but just because he’s suspicious of everyone

doesn’t know you’re fire nation, let alone that you’re a firebender

however – he’s rude, harsh, nagging, and his brother Shiro pulls you aside one day and tells you that he usually doesn’t act like this, and he has no idea what’s gotten into him

you brush it off, laughing. “I’m an outsider, and we’re at war; I don’t blame him for being suspicious.” 

but it does bother you a bit

because yeah, you understand, but, like – you haven’t done anything to warrant this kind of treatment, you don’t think

and because you’ve never been particularly shy, you confront him about it

“what exactly is your problem with me?”

Keith, who had been practicing his bending, scowls. “I don’t have a problem with you.”

you scoff, leaning against a rock. “your attitude towards me strongly suggests otherwise.”

Keith crosses his arms. “why do you care, anyway? it’s not like you’re settling in here or anything. you’ll be gone soon enough, right?” thwack, against the ground. a pillar shoots up beside you, barely scraping against your skin. you merely glare back at him. 

“maybe I’ll stay. just to fuck with you.”

Keith rolls his eyes, but for the first time you see him smile. just a little bit.

after that, your interactions with Keith go a lot smoother. 

you didn’t intend to stay as long as you ended up doing, and you know it’s dangerous – your father is still looking for you, after all

you know staying this long is probably a bad idea, and yet you do it anyway

you try not to think too much about the reason why, though you know why, of course.

you spend your days with him, practically – help around his family’s farm, run errands, et caetera 

playful strangers grow into friends – and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about being more than that

but the longer you stay, the more restless you become.

half of you feels like you’re wasting time, like you should have been in Ba Sing Se by now; who knows what you’ve missed

the other half is screaming, fuck the war, fuck it all, you could just stay here and keep using this fake name and this fake identity and pretend everything is all right and maybe you’ll get to be happy for a while before you die

but that’s not you. that’s not who you are as a person. 

why did you run from the palace? your family? to live the rest of your life out in hiding in a small Earth Kingdom town, pretending the world isn’t on fire?

you’re going to have to leave eventually. not only just to get to Ba Sing Se quicker, but also to protect Keith

he has no idea!! poor boy has No Clue you could decimate him where he stands, because let’s face it; he’s a powerful earthbender, but you’ve been training since you were four with the very best teachers, sparring against opponents that would push you to your very limits, beating you down only for you to build yourself back up stronger than ever

it’s a harsh way of learning, and you wish you didn’t. but your skills are honed and it would be nothing but ignorant to deny them

and so, when the raid happens, part of you isn’t even surprised.

Keith jolts, eyes stormy. “Fire nation soldiers.”

you curse to yourself, gritting your teeth. “damn it.”

“stay home, Y/N. don’t hide. find money – that’s what they’re here for, anyway –”

you shake your head. “no, it’s not.” 

Keith blinks, just as the loudest of the soldiers shouts, “we know you’re here, Y/N! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” 

these aren’t ordinary soldiers. too chaotic, too energetic. bountyhunters. just as dangerous, just as deadly. 

you clench your jaw, turning back to Keith. his eyes are brewing with confusion, and you run a hand through your hair, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry, Keith. I should have known about this.” you did, a voice says. you did, and you still stayed.

“Y/N–” a fake name, the name you’ve been using on your journey; fake, fake, fake – “what are you talking about?”

“YOUR HIGHNESS! ARE YOU GOING TO LET THIS WHOLE TOWN BURN? WE WILL FIND YOU. IT WILL BE IN VAIN.” there are explosions, screaming, fire – flames, licking at the sides of buildings, crawling high into the sky… 

you cast one last look at Keith. his confusion has morphed into anger. betrayal. you understand; of course you do. 

it still hurts.

“I’m sorry.” you won’t even have time to grab your stuff. “keep them safe.”

he doesn’t respond, and you don’t give him time to respond as you tear across the street, letting your own fire free for the first time in weeks. a couple short, controlled bursts, aimed at the biggest and baddest hunter of them all – they don’t hurt him that much, but you hadn’t counted on that. you just needed to get their attention, which you did. 

in passing, you put out fires where you can, the technique one you’ve perfected over the years, to the point where you barely need to slow down as you race past burning houses, taking the flames with you as you run

and you steal a mount, and you just keep going and keep going, knowing they’ll come after you – burning a village is fun, but you’re the big prize, after all – and you hear them, and you keep going, keep going, keep going

eventually you lose them.

you spend that night in the forest, and you cry, scold yourself for being an idiot, cry some more. 

it won’t help. it won’t change anything. they all probably hate you by now, even though you tried to minimise the damage. you could have prevented it, if only you hadn’t been so selfish

well. you smile bitterly. once a spoiled royal brat, always a spoiled royal brat.

the next morning, you set off once more.

half a year later, the war is over. 

you got to Ba Sing Se in time. after some trouble, managed to get an audience with the King, and after even more trouble convinced him you truly were on his side; though you think he only really started to believe you when you almost got killed carrying out an intel collection mission to protect your partner.

(no more deaths on your conscience.)

the victory doesn’t feel as exhilarating as it should, even though (you’re not going to lie) it does feel pretty good

images of your past mistakes flash before your eyes. so many more lives you could have saved, with one choice only…

“Your Highness? the parade is waiting.”

ah, yes. the parade. 

“I’ll be right there.”

“the Earth King was very adamant on your presence.”

“just a moment.”

gathering your thoughts, preparing to fully become Y/N for the first time in a year. no more fighting, no more death. no more hiding.

the Earth King’s speech is moving. you let him speak on purpose, not wanting to take away from the Earth Kingdom victory. you’d expected more backlash from his announcement that he’ll be working to establish a solid relationship with the Fire Nation, which is currently under your rule (a role you assumed out of necessity, not desire for power), but the reactions seem to be fairly positive

the day floats by – or rather, you float through it. when, at the end of the day, you start making preparations to return to your own Nation, to start ruling as Firelord from its throne, a familiar voice calls your name, you freeze

“Y/N, eh?”

leaning against the wall stands Keith, looking only mildly impressed

you put on your most hautain expression. “that’s Firelord Y/N to you, boy.” 

he looks at you, conflict in his eyes, and you look at him, wondering if you crossed the line – 

but then he laughs, the sound like music to your ears, and something bursts in your chest as you join in.

“you seem to have made quite the impression.”

“indeed, it would seem that way.” 

his arms feel like home, in the best way possible. you sit side by side, catching up – you try to explain why you did what you did in the biggest possible lines, but you don’t know whether your point is getting across. 

if someone were to look out of their window right now, they would see the Firelord and some random man sitting with their backs against stone walls, shoulders pressed together, talking like equals.

you finally work up the courage to ask the question that’s been playing in your mind for months. “are you angry at me? for staying?” 

he sighs. “I was. right after you left. I felt used and lied to and betrayed. but I understand why you did it.” he smiles, nudges you with his elbow. “and, well. you ended the war, didn’t you? so it was worth it, in the end.”

you lean your head back, close your eyes. “how many people got hurt because of me?”

“there were some injuries, but none fatal. and you put out a majority of the fires before they could do too much damage.” you crack open an eye in surprise, and Keith laughs. “yeah, I saw that. you’re a powerful bender, Y/N.” 

“so are you.” 

“you fooled me for weeks.” you wince, but he doesn’t sound angry. when you sneak a sideways look at him, he’s staring right back at you. 

“I’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

“is it, though?” the guilt that you’d managed to suppress for a while now comes back in full force, and you rub the bridge of your nose. 

“at the moment, maybe not.” he shifts, and his fingers ghost over yours – you could swear they linger. “but I think you’ve made up for it.”

your mount is getting restless, and you pat his flank. “I know this is probably the worst reunion ever, but I really should get going. I have a whole Nation to rule.”

Keith’s eyes twinkle in the way you’ve since learned to adore. “you know what? I think you should stay.”

[ofieugogyshz]

Fic;; Memories: Riolu II

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: None

Summary: Another call done, and another moment spent being assessed by your newborn Riolu.

Takes place sometime after this fic. | Which is preceded by this fic.

(Series Masterpost)

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

Lance and I had talked for a long time. I listened as he shared some updates about his job, his training, the clan, and I shared with him updates from my journey. My heart would lurch in my throat at times when I looked at him. And I'm sure he knew it, too, because my emotions could be read like an open book. But whenever he got me talking about something that happened over here, I would forget about my feelings for just a moment, caught up in whatever the topic had come to. The only thing I didn't share with him was updates about the Riolu that my friend, Blaze, had gifted me. Lance had remembered however, and asked me about it.

I had it sitting behind the chair, but it poked its head up every so often to see who I was talking to. When the phone call ended, I hung up the receiver, letting out a huge exhale.

<<Your heart went really fast! You were really nervous, when this conversation started. But now you're fine. Why is that?>>

At least, that's what I think it wanted to say. It was hard, sometimes, to communicate with it through our bond. It was only a few months old, and still learning how to read me.

The inquisitive stare it gave me was more than enough to set my cheeks flushed.

"A-ah, that's-- that's because--!"

<<He is my namesake, right? Daddy's trainer said he was naming me after an awesome person that you loved!>>

I felt my face burn so hot, it must've been red like a Charmeleon. My voice cracked, nearly shrill from the embarrassment.

"Th-that's!!! It-- I-- He--- Oh, it's not any of your business, Riolu!!"

<<I thought I was named Lance.>>

I felt like crying. This was going to be so embarrassing and difficult to explain.

"Y-y-you a-are, b-b-b-but--! I, uh…" I couldn't help but fumble around with words, embarrassed and ashamed at myself for being unable to say the Riolu's name, seeing as it was named after my crush. It tilted its head at me, unable to understand the mixed up emotions within me. The internal struggle. I don't blame it-- I couldn't either.

<<Did you want to rename me?>> It sounded dejected.

"Oh." That hadn't occurred to me. Officially, we couldn't overwrite the information for a Pokemon's name if it was registered to a different trainer. For some reason, the system that the PCs, Pokedexes, and Pokeballs all shared didn't support that. (Of course, that didn't stop many trainers from referring to our Pokemon however we saw fit.)

"I… Hm." I had never thought about it. I loved nicknaming Pokemon, and that was partly why my Riolu had been nicknamed at all. And I didn't want to offend my friend, who had gone through all the trouble of finding one who felt right for me.

<<You calmed down?>> Riolu tilted its head the other way now, still struggling to understand me.

"It wouldn't feel right. I'm sure Blaze meant good when he named you that, and not just as joke between friends. Your namesake is… an amazing trainer. He's very compassionate towards his Pokemon, and --basically-- a hero. He helps stop crime or other bad things from happening, and he's very sweet, and surprisingly patient, and I think he's understanding, too. He's," and I let out a short laugh. "He's been determined to help me think better of myself, too. Someone like me, who can't even…" I stopped suddenly, letting the sentence taper off. I let out a huge sigh, fighting the impulse to finish that sentence.

<<Are you dating him?>> It was a very innocent question.

"WH-WH-WHAT?!?!?!?" I screamed, earning a few rude stares from others in the Pokemon Center. I devolved into completely incoherent babble for a moment.

"I-I-I--aha...ha-- h-he-- n-n-n-no…!!---m-me?? Hahaha--" I flailed, waving my arms wildly before screaming into the palms of my hand. My face felt hotter in that moment than any fire Pokemon I had ever trained. I groaned, whimpered, whined --even a shrill, squeal-like sound--, unable to coherently give this tiny, relatively newborn Pokemon an answer.

"W-what makes you--- wh-where w-w-w-would y-you-- w-why??!?"

My brain had short-circuited, but, somehow, Riolu had sensed where I was trying to go between all the stammering and stuttering.

<<Pika told me. She said you have a crush on him. That you want to go on things called 'dates'?>> There was a pause. <<What are those?>>

I turned around to look at my Pikachu, who turned away from me, whistling.

"P-Pika….!!!" I made a fist, shaking it. Some of it in anger, more of it in flustered frustration.

<<What is dating?>>

I buried my face in my hands again, this time a muffled scream held within them.

"I-it's…." I let out an annoyed sigh. It was a struggle just to even speak the words, especially right after your own Pokemon asked you about your crush. "It's w-when y-you… y-you really like s-someone. And t-they do too. L-like you, I mean. A-and y-y-y-you… Y-you b-both…." I let out another muffled scream, this time out of frustration. "W-Why do I have t-to tell you any of this a-anyways?!?!"

Riolu sulked, flinching back a little. I immediately felt bad, sensing its recoil from the shout.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that--I mean, I don't know what I meant it like, but-- n-no no no, umm…. Pika!" I turned around to my Pikachu. She was still pretending not to be involved, flinching when I suddenly called her out. "Y-You explain it, you brought it up!!!!"

Pika let out a sigh of relief. She must've thought I was going to punish her somehow, but at the moment, I wouldn't've been able to think of anything even if I wanted to. She turned around, hopping up onto the seat, and began explaining in her own Pikachu language whatever Riolu was asking of her.

I sighed, and picked at the dead-ends in my hair. I couldn't understand the exchange, but I could sense the growing curiosity from Riolu, as well as the feeling of its curiosity being sated.

I wanted a relationship. I wasn't going to lie about that. But I messed up when I was a kid, and I'm pretty sure I had that avenue closed off because of that immaturity. I still had a crush on him, and I was lucky. He still let me talk to him. It hurt, sometimes, talking to him. I wanted to tell him again that I liked him. I really, really liked him, like a whole bunch more than back then. Now we had a good friendship. I knew more about him than when I had blindly charged ahead, led on by a silly notion of how I thought dating worked. I was scared to lose that friendship with him, if I blurted out my feelings once more. …..Hell, I'm sure it was obvious that I still liked him, no matter how hard I had tried to quelch those feelings. Except, now, instead of a forced notion of what kind of person I should like, it felt more natural. I wasn't liking him because I thought he'd make a good boyfriend. I was liking him for him. Something I was convinced no one would like me for.

We had a more natural relationship now, as friends. ...Well, as good of one as I could manage while freezing up whenever we talked, blushing madly, until I could forget for a moment during a conversation that I had a crush on him. It was hard.

"Emotions suck," I muttered.

<<I want to meet him.>> The thought came unbidden, and it took me a moment to realize that it was Riolu who thought-- well, felt-- it.

"A-ah, I-I don't think we could do something like that!!"

<<Why not?>>

Why not? Why not indeed. "B-because! H-he works! And-- And he has the league!"

<<But I want to know his feelings for you.>>

At that comment, I felt myself freeze up, like I was made of ice. I felt so cold, scared of that notion. Of finding out if the answer had changed in our few years' friendship. If it was completely hopeless. But at the same time, my face had heated up. Because what if it was changed…. What then? What do we do then?

<<Sarah?>>

I felt a gentle tugging on my hand. I looked down to see Pika and Riolu looking up at me, concerned.

"O-oh. Sorry if that alarmed you."

Riolu felt confused. It didn't know how to interpret that or my emotions.

<<You felt really scared. It looked like Thunderbolt!>> Riolu told me, waving its arms as it described the aura wave to me. I pet it gently on its head, a quietly confused noise coming from its mouth this time, rather than our bond. “Ri?”

-

"If you want to understand Riolu better, you might want to try asking the Sinnoh Champion, Cynthia, for advice. She has a Lucario."

"Y-yeah, m-maybe. I'll try that."

That was the last thing Lance and I had talked about, before we ended our call.

[sweetestlamb]

Breakaway

Summary: Gang-Tae stops running from Mun-Yeong and finally runs away with her. Feelings are felt. Firsts are had. 

Author’s note: So, episode ripped my heart out, stepped on it with Mun-Yeong’s heels, backed up on with her car and then trampled it like the flowers Gang-Tae gave her . This is my escape from that reality and more possible heart crushing events tomorrow. I changed some events around, added some, just let my mind run wild. No smut this time (finally), Gang-Tae is so innocent and I couldn’t let her ravish him before their first kiss lol 

Just a heads up, Mun-Yeong will be pretty forceful in this and it might be triggering for some people, the shows always casts her advances as funny because we know Gang-Tae wants her too. But consent is always important for both parties, I don’t take that lightly. I am just trying to stay true to the characters we are shown. 

He has never punched anyone before. Not because he didn’t want to, he has wanted to hurt many others before. Viciously. To keep punching until they were a pulp on the ground. Bullies growing up, arrogant men who weigh their child’s worth on a scale, ignorant people who see a weak person and want to break them down. He has wanted to hurt others before, has felt the anger pulse through him and clot his blood, and then exhaled it all out watching it leave his body like a cold breath in the dead of winter. 

So why? Why couldn’t he abate his anger now. 

Watching her fall to the ground, shattered every wall and glass container he had surrounding his emotions. It is said when people lose themselves to anger, they see red. He hadn’t seen anything. Couldn’t hear, speak, breathe, suppress. The only thing he could do was hurt. Hurt him like he had hurt her. She was hardly a damsel and he was certainly no prince, but he wanted to protect her. Maybe could pass for a knight. His knuckles tingled remembering the sensation of the bones as they connected in the brutal collision. God, what have I done? 

“Where do you want to go? Europe is always good for travel. Or we could go somewhere warmer, Serengeti?” Mun-Yeong voice breaks the silence, brimming with as much excitement as he has ever heard from her. 

He smiles at the idea. Serengeti. There would be so many animals. Leave it to her to choose a location that others would shy from in fear. 

“I don’t have a passport.” He replies, mild shame in his tone. He told her before he has never traveled before, the constant moving doesn’t count because those aren’t pleasurable, just necessary for survival. He has never been somewhere because he wanted to go, much less gone somewhere with someone he...cares for. He turns to look at her profile, spellbound as she replies. Her skin is blemish-free, pristine and soft- her injured cheek had been hot to the touch, but he couldn’t ignore how creamy it felt under his palm. He could touch her for a million years and never grow weary.  What was it about her that called out to every cell in his body? 

“Then where can we go?” She responds impatient as always, glancing over at him with heated eyes as if daring him. Her lips push out in a slight pout and he watches them avidly. Hungrily. Terrified. 

“Let’s go to the mountains and the field.” He replies, hands trembling because without his leash he doesn’t know how to act. It feels like a piece of him has been melted away. His body an open wound. 

She turns and smiles at him, his heart flutters at the sweetness of it. 

The air is crisp, he feels all the moisture evaporate from his mouth and instinctively his tongue laps out to swipe across his parched lips.  His step onto the bridge, making his heart beat quicken in both trepidation and exuberance, all his worries fall through the cracks in the bridge and he feels weightless. His second step brings a smile to his face and looks over to see Mun-Yeong, only she’s not beside him. 

He turns around and sees an emotion on her face he has never seen before. 

“Let’s go.” He encourages her with a blinding smile. 

“No.” Her entire body shakes in refusal as well and he tilts his head curiously, “Why not?” He can’t think of any reason she wouldn’t want to do this. She is fearless. 

“I’m scared.” Breathless laughter bursts from his chest at the ridiculous idea. This is the same Mun-Yeong who approached a man intending to take his life and that of his daughter, he still has a souvenir from that day. He glances fondly down at the scar on his hand. Jae-Su’s disapproving face momentarily flashes in his mind, furthering his laugh. 

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny!” Mun-Yeong berates him, stomping with her more practical shoes which he still thinks are too fancy but they were the best he could convince to wear. Her armor. 

“I can’t do this with Sang-Tae so I wanted to do it with you. “ He cuts his laughter with he realizes the slight shake in her petite body is not from the mountain air. 

He watches his words take an unexpected effect on her. Her dark eyes find his and he can’t look away, the fear in hers twists and turns, wrapping armor around itself. “Okay, I will do it with you.” She takes a shaky step onto the bridge, reaching for the railing with white-knuckled fists.

 He smiles fondly at her determination. Is she doing this for me? 

Then in true Mun-Yeong fashion she demands loudly, “Hey, carry me. Give me a piggyback ride!” He laughs again, turning around and quickening his speed. Happy at the chance to tease her for once.  He hears her protesting behind him only further fueling his joy, one foot in front of the other and soon he realizes he is steps away from the end. 

He stops. Her words echo in his mind, “Okay, I will do it with you.” It doesn’t feel right to do this without her beside him. He turns back and sees her slowly, still crossing despite her obvious fear. Then she starts to sing, “If I ever feel lonely..” and he runs back to get her. 

She doesn’t notice his presence until she almost walks into his chest. She looks up in surprise. “Why did you come back?” She asks genuinely confused, he isn’t the only one not used to others doing things for him. “I want to do it with you.”

He extends his hand for the second time that day. She hesitates again. Looking at him like he’s a dream that could vanish at any point. Then she grabs onto his hand, he winces at the strength of her hold. 

“Hey, don’t hold so tightly!”

“Shut up, if you let go I’ll kill you.” 

“Are you ready?” They are so close that their shoulders are brushing. Her warmth seeps into him. 

“Yes.” Subconsciously her head shakes no. He is reminded of all the times he has told her no when his body was screaming yes. 

She takes the first step this time and they are off, she complains about the shakiness of the bridge and squeezes his hand in annoyance when he mentions the apt name of the bridge. He can’t help but smile has they cross at the bridge at a much more lethargic pace than his own dash. His strong, fearless Mun-Yeong undone by a bridge. 

No, not undone. Paused. Despite her apparent terror, she is doing it anyway because of him. When they reach the end, she turns to him and her triumphant smile is illuminating. Her red-stained lips are wide and inviting. He blushes recalling their almost kiss back at the castle. he can’t deny it, he wanted that kiss like it was air in his lungs. The way her eyes had widened in shock, made him falter for a second, before he pressed on, leaning down to join their hungry lips. Until the blood curdling sound of some unknown creature had broken the moment.

He ran away and she let him. 

“I did it.” Her breathless words reach his ears and he turns to look at her again, reaching his hand out settling it on her soft, dark head. With a barely there touch, he strokes her head before saying “You were so brave, you’re amazing.” 

She smile is supernova bright. 

No one has ever taken photos of him before and her requests throws him off kilter, he hasn’t felt his uncomfortable in his body in a long time. Not since he was young, growing into this body, with long limbs and muscles that he didn’t want because they attracted too much attention. He feels all that and more as she repeats sternly, “Smile. Don’t cry.” 

He can’t tell the difference. For so long, the emotions he would let others see weren’t the ones he was feeling. Now he is actually happy, happier than he imagined and his face doesn’t know how to show that. He starts to stand dismissing the needs for a picture, before she drags him back to the bench, “If you’re embarrassed I’ll do it with you.” Her smiling face is mirrored in the phone and he feels the restrain falling again, their heads tilt in, matching authentic smiles on their faces. 

“Make that your background.” She demands and he snatches his phone before she can do just that, he doesn’t know if he has enough control to see that picture everyday without asking her to run away with him for good. 

She giggles and walks ahead of him, looking over her shoulder and he is blown by her beauty. Even in her most comfortable clothes, she stands out. Despite her small stature, she seems to take up all the space in any room she’s in. He can barely take his eyes off her. 

“What are you looking at?” 

He doesn’t trust himself to answer that. 

“Are you still hungry?” 

Despite his refusal, they end up at guesthouse. Her eyes had been wild as she drove the car toward the edge of a cliff, this was the second time she had threatened him with a imminent death. He wonders what it says about him that his only response is a chuckle and head nod. Who is really the crazy one here? 

Stay the night with me or die here! Those were his only two options. 

She was so impulsive when she felt wronged. But.  He had asked her to run away with him, he had started all this and he didn’t want to stop it just yet. So he had called Sang-Tae and told him he would see him in the morning and to call him if he needed anything. 

Now, he sat drinking the juice provided by the keeper. It was delicious, he felt his cheeks heating up and vaguely wondered why that was happening? Mun-Yeong was on her third cup and swaying onto his shoulder. Her hair had slipped from the neat ponytail and brushed him every time she leaned ever too close. Each inhale came with the scent of her hair, a faintly floral scent filled his lungs. 

“Your hair smells nice.” He mused aloud, turning his head and placing his nose directly above her fragrant head. 

She moved closer and looped her arms through his, leaning closer and he watched as her face gradually moved closer, and closer, dangerously close to his face, so close that they were sharing a breath and he knew that he should move back but he felt frozen in place. Just like when he fell into the frozen river and she saved him. 

He watched her enticing lips with wavering eyes, stuck between watching her lips and watching her eyes, they were both singing the same siren’s song, as she finally reached her destination and- 

Booped their noses together in a perfect Eskimo kiss. 

“Your face is so red.” She teased bringing a hand up to palm his lust-stained cheeks and he fell off the table in his haste to escape her spell. 

Her giggles filled the the air as he sat flushed on the ground. 

He was drunk and he had no idea how. Was the juice the keeper gave them more than just juice? He glanced over at Mun-Yeong to see how it had affected her, if at all. Her face was flushed as well and she laying flat on her back, soft eyes looking at the ceiling. 

“Let’s have fun.” She suddenly said rolling to him and clinging to his arm even as he pushed her away, not sure if being drunk together was a good idea. When he found himself looking at her moving lips and not hearing anything she was saying, he knew it was a terrible idea. Had he hit his head? Why did he keep making these decisions? 

“- do you want to play?” She finished her question looking up at him from under her lashes, beckoning him to answer affirmatively. He almost did, without asking her what she had asked. He stopped himself knowing how dangerous the game they were playing was, his defenses were compromised by his current situation and she looked even bolder now, not needing any more courage- liquid or otherwise. Grabbing onto logic, he asked her to repeat her question. 

“Let’s play truth or dare?” 

“Why would you want to play that?” He was suspicious. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what kind of dares she would could come up with. He had to say no to stop them from crossing a line that they couldn’t come back from. 

She sat silently, letting go of his arm and wrapping her arms around herself and seeming to war with herself, a plethora of emotions swimming in those dark haunting eyes. She got up and suddenly started to leave their room, he instinctively reached out to catch her arm, stopping her. 

“Let go of me.”

“No, answer my question.”

He could see her feathers ruffling and she looked at him with passive eyes, before she quietly answered, “I have never had anyone to play with it before.” 

Her arm dropped out of his grasp and his eyes widen at her confession and a wave of sadness and anger washed over him, thinking of a young Mun-Yeong with no one to play with. Not one friend. He was eternally grateful for Jae-Su and he couldn't imagine his life without his one friend. How lonely it must have been to be feared all the time, to watch others build bonds and never have that for yourself. 

Okay. I will do it with you. 

Her word from earlier whisper  in his head and he pushed his own fear aside and did something just for her. 

“Okay, let’s play.” 

He instantly regrets it when he sees the salacious smile that spreads on her lips. He swallows nervously. 

“I dare you to-” She begins and he cuts her off, “You’re supposed to ask me truth or dare.” She looks at him with disdain, “No I don’t care about truths, let’s just do dares.” He rolls his eyes, knowing she probably figured out that he would simply pick truth every round. 

“No we have to do it right, since it’s your first time doing it.” He doesn’t know that those words take life in her head until she gives up way too easily and with an scarily innocent smile, she asks “Truth or dare.” 

“Truth.” 

“Have you ever slept with a woman?” 

Red blazes across his already drunk-stained cheeks and he looks away from her imploring eyes. The last time she asked him that he drenched a table and now he thinks he might pass out. He hopes he hits his head and puts himself out of his misery if he does. 

“If you don’t want to answer my question, then you can do a dare.” She smiles mischievously knowing she has corned him into a tight spot. 

He almost ends the game right then and there, why does she always trample on his comfort level like this? it’s not that he doesn’t have desires, god does he have them. He wants so much. All the time. But he can’t have anything, everything fades and they have to keep moving like the wind. 

Tentative steps on a shaky bridge. Deadly tight grip on the railing. Her triumph at the end of it all. 

With his last bit of bravery he opens his mouth and it takes a few tries to get the words out. His lips open and close mimicking that of a fish, before he finally shoves the word out through clenched teeth, “No.” 

Her responding smile is obscene, “I want it.” and he blinks in confusion before he follows the line of her eyes, squarely centered on his crotch. He backs up until his body meets the wall, bringing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them. 

“You look like a school girl protecting her chastity.” She laughs and crawls over to meet him, pressing his legs open, and he bolts to the other side of the room. She smirks and licks her lips, looking every much like the predator he knows she is. Before she can seductively crawl to meet him again, he screams out “Stop! It’s my turn.” And she pauses mid crawl, eyes and hair wild, looking like a wildcat that has spotted its next meal and he briefly thinks she brought the Serengeti to him. 

She sits back in a huff. A beautiful flush across her face.  He has no truth or dare in mind, her question and behavior after had thrown him off again. 

“Truth or dare?”

No hesitation, “Dare.” 

Of course. She’s fearless where it counts. She looks at him with curious eyes, fingers tapping impatiently. 

“I dare you to......not touch me all night.” 

“What?” If looks could kill, he would be six feet under. Maybe deeper. Despite them running away, he can’t have too. How will be go back after today if he becomes too greedy?

“Does it go both ways? You can’t touch me and I can’t touch you?” She looks....calculating but he nods in agreement. He has no plans to touch her tonight. He is too weak already. 

She smiles. Then stands up and walks out the door. Slamming it behind her, He jumps at the sound. He watches her leave and disappointment is thick on his tongue, he knows she’s upset. He doesn’t know how to give them both what they want and he feels like a failure. How can he touch her and stop himself from falling even deeper and wanting more? 

It doesn’t seem possible and his heart breaks a little. 

The sound of the door sliding open once more drags him back from his melancholy and he lifts his eyes up from the floor to see Mun-Yeong. 

A soaking wet Mun-Yeong. 

Dripping on the floor, her shirt is plastered to her lithe body, sticking to all the contours of her body. When his eyes shirt lower, her pants are missing. Her shirt stops mid-thigh, showing off an excess of her smooth skin. Droplets from her hair fall onto the ground, one drop makes a journey down her cheek, past her neck and disappearing into her shirt. 

“Ko Mun-Yeong!” He exclaims willing his body to turn around and stop looking at her drenched body. But his eyes flint all over, from her wet- puffy lips to her naked toes, stopping on her chest and he sees twins peaks peeking through the shirt and that makes him turn away finally. He feels all the blood in his body rush southward. 

“You said I couldn’t touch you all night. I needed to cool off, I’m horny. ” She responds and he can hear the shrug and challenge in her voice and he croaks out, “Okay I think that’s enough of this game.” 

Once again, she gives in easily. Not protesting at all. And he turns around, intending to dive under his blankets and pull them up to his face and hide from her tempting body. Instead she causes him to freeze again. She is unbuttoning her wet shirt and the room is dark but he can see enough, too much and he lunges at her to stop those nimble fingers. 

She tsks at him looking at him like a disapproving parent, “You aren’t allowed to touch me all night Gang-Tae. Remember it was your dare.” 

Fucking hell.  His fingers stop inches from her. 

She opens another button and he spins around once more. “Mun-Yeong please stop. The game is over.” He pleads. 

“Oh. Does that mean I can touch you again?” She counters. He can’t agree with that, she is undressing behind him if he allows her to touch him, it will be bad. 

She takes his silence as answer and her wet shirt lands on his shoulder. He jumps before throwing the shirt to side. He is buzzing when her bra lands next to it and then her panties. What if he gets a nosebleed and just chokes in his own blood?  ARRGGGGGGHHHHH. He screams like the creature that interrupted them internally, wishing the damn thing would show up and kick him to death. Put him out of his misery. 

“Mun-Yeong please put your clothes back on.” He is not ashamed to say he begs her, if he could he would get down on his knees too. 

On his knees within her milky thighs, her hand on his head, patting and prodding as she guided him to her- 

“I am comfortable naked I told you earlier.” She calmly responds before he hears movement and then the rustling of her sheets, does this mean she’s finally going to bed? 

He spares a small peek and catches a glimpse of her nude body before she slides under the sheets and his arousal hits him like a freight train. Beautiful. 

When he finally turns around, he sees what the movement was. She has moved their bedding closer together, impossibly close now. 

He can’t do this. Can’t be this near her naked body. Only a sheet separates them. 

He moves to leave the room and she stands with it and her sheets start to fall, he snatches them with superhuman speed wrapping them firmly around her warm body, pulling her flushed against his overexcited body. 

“You broke the rules.” He feels her start to reach for him and he swaddles her tighter, yanking their bodies to the floor and pinning her down. She lets out a puff of air and in a surprise move, goes for his lips and he turns his face in time that she lands on his cheek. 

“Please. Please. Just go to sleep.”

He stares her down, pulling the sheets around her tighter still and hating that he can fee her warmth even through them. There is only a sheet separating them. 

“Just go to sleep. Please” She stops squirming in his hold, finally. “Okay I will go to sleep. But I know you want this as badly as I do.” She proves her point by grinding up into his erection, and he jolts away, the pleasure too immense for his depraved body. 

He huddles, willing it to go away, please, please, please. 

He doesn’t know how much times goes by, before he can feel his excitement alleviate. Years of ignoring them as made him a pro at suppressing his desire. 

When he turns Mun-Yeong is fast asleep, sheet low on her body but covering everything thankfully. He takes his time to look at her, peaceful in her sleep. Someone who didn’t know her might even say she looked..innocent. But all her shenanigans tonight prove otherwise. She is a demon, sent here to make him sin. 

He sits up and looks down at her. So brave and bold.  He’s glad to escape her all-seeing eyes, too perceptive for her own good. She is right, he wants her. More than he has wanted anything. Surely, he can’t have her though, right? 

But, he’s so happy with her. She makes him so happy, even when she’s threatening to drive them off a cliff or using her body as a weapon of mass seduction. He likes her. And he tried everything not to. Why couldn’t she just give up like everyone else did?

I have so much fun with her. 

He thinks before he finally snuggles down, into a fitful sleeps. His eyes on Mun-Yeong and Mun-Yeong alone. 

Her smile when he hands her the flowers makes everything he has faced in life worth it. All worth it to have this moment with her. 

Holding her in the rain, tentative fingers drawing her close. 

Her fingers clutching to him as she cursed and thrashed away from him. 

Cupping her cheek and feeling the anger evaporate and worry take its place. 

Her feet trampling on the flowers he picked for her, all those years ago. 

Running to her. 

He leans forward, knowing now he has no control.

She appeared when he needed her. Isn’t that fate?  

Their lips meet, warm press of skin against skin. Almost innocent in nature, he needs to work up to more. 

“That was sweet.” She sounds genuine and she caresses his cheek before curling her hands around his neck and dragging him closer, he releases a puff of air but doesn’t resist. 

“Next time, I pick where we go and I’ll kiss you. I have a lot to teach you.”

He’s ready to learn. 

[midnight-moonlight-and-mars]

Carbon Monoxide (Requested)

Warnings: Depression, Swearing, Fluff?

Summary: Tak is convinced Y/n is dead. The love his life was killed saving him from an impulsive mistake he made. Between the blame, the drinks, and depression everything was bleak and pointless. Until he arrives a Bancroft party to find what he knew was nothing at all. What really happened?

Requested by: @ravenclawsstolemybunies 

A pulse flows through the air in a gushing wave. Tak felt his whole body fall to the gorund and go completely numb as well the rest of the swarming mob of people.

Stack Shocker... FUCK

He looked for Y/n in the now fallen crowd of battered and bruised people. She had been thrown by the blast in the middle of the road. Blood pooled around her body pushed around by the freezing rain.

Tak fights through using every ounce of strength to get himself to her lifeless body, the blurring his vision and making his body numb.

Her heart beat was slow. The noise and chaos that erupted around them disappeared into a static and blurry cloud. His mind went fuzzy with adrenaline and ears ringing from all of the hits to his head. 

“Y/N??? Y/N!!!!”

Nothing.

Cold skin... Blood... wound. Cover it... Pressure...

“Y/n please... oh god please...”

....Analyzing Stack.... No signs of activity. Lifeless

Too much... too many... guns... police....Leave....Leave her...now. Go!

~Present Day~

Tak sat in the outside garden at Suntouch waiting on Bancroft to finish whatever the fuck rich people do in their spare time. It was nice and all but he saw past the pretty flowers and statues. He saw everything scum like these people stood for. But, he needed the money if he was going to ever get out of this shit hole.

“Mr. Kovacs! You’re early.” Bancroft made his way through garden alongside his wife, who just seemed to be very interested in Tak anytime he was around.

“I need to speak with your associates or friends. See if they have any grudges against you or your family. I need you to get them all into one place without raising suspicion. Can you do that within the next few days?”

“Of course Mr. Kovacs whatever you need to get this done. I assume you have a plan? Do you plan on someone confessing to you or do you have someone in mind? I will tell you they are snakes with their own secrets and scandals. Turning over these stones will likely cause some fuss. More than the one you’re causing already my friend...”

"It does work in our favor though. Many people seem more interested in attending now that you are honored guest." Bancroft's wife said eyeing him a little too hard for her husband being a foot away.

“If you can get it done leave the rest to me.” Tak waiting for no contest left as quickly as he came. He couldn’t stand to be there, let alone work for them to save his life. Besides, he needed a cigarette and a drink to prepare for whatever the fuck he was about to step into.

When Tak arrived at the Raven Hotel, Poe was quick to spark conversation that he was just not in the mood for. Something about news or the maybe the weather? He didn’t know and he really didn’t care honestly. The headaches were getting worse not to mention the weird hallucinations. Maybe it was the drugs he took yesterday... What was it? LSD maybe?

“Master Kovacs I also think it’s imperative that you...”

“Poe. Seriously? Shut the fuck up my head hurts and I really don’t have time for your questions or whaatever other shit you have to bother me with.”

“Are the headaches getting progressively worse now?” Poe asked worriedly. He knew the cause, but hardly knew what to do anymore, Nothing seemed to remedy these episodes.

“You’re not helping it either.” Tak took a long awaited drag of a cigarette out his pocket and tilted his back. He closed his eyes and let the smoke curl out of his mouth as he felt the flood gates in his mind give way. He could see Y/n's face appear out of the mist of darkness. The dark splattered blood on her face and the way her eyes looked so dead. He felt the same pain swallow his chest as before. The same one that tears through his skin and coils around his heart.

“Master Kovacs are you still with us?” Poe asked observing him closely.

Waking from his trance, Tak gave Poe one last glare before he finally took the hint and fazed somewhere else. Closing his eyes again, he resumed his dream. This time, though, was different.

He could still see her face, but there was no blood. She was smiling even. It seemed so real and she looked so lively. She was speaking incherently almost in a whisper, but he couldn't understand a single word. Tak reached for her but no matter how close he got, she would just grow farther and farther away. At one point he even began to chase her, but taking a final leap to catch her woke him from his dream. Why was this one different? What could it mean?

Getting up from his chair Tak felt his head spin in a whirlwind of thought. There was no way she could be alive. None. From what he can remember Y/n’s stack and sleeve were destroyed. Anyone that found her remains would have never let her live and surely destroyed her stack. Everything now is fuzzy but hes sure. What Tak remembered had to be true.

It just had to be... right?

Now Tak was questioning everything he remembered about what happened. The headaches were becoming worse and even came down with a fever from all the strain on his body and mind.

Poe appeared next to Tak who was lying in bed dripping in sweat. “Do you need anything? I can make myself rather useful in a variety of areas. Cooking, cleaning, or just simply an ear for someone to talk to.” Poe said avoiding eye contact.

“Fine.” Giving in, Tak talked about Y/n. he talked about her smile, her strength, courage, and of course how beautiful she was inside and out. Poe listened intently smiling at how much Tak was gushing about this mystery woman. But when Tak explained how he thought she died and how the details aren’t adding up, it sounded familiar. She died before Poe could meet her, which he disappointed to hear, but he was more saddened by the fact that Y/n’s death was still killing him.

“She sounds wonderful. You two seemed very compatible.”

“She was wonderful... Everything that I thought I knew and thought was solid proof is falling through my hands. I can’t think straight I can’t sleep... A part of me still thinks she’s alive but it can’t be true. Y/n would have found me by now she would be looking for me or let me know what was happening but...”

“Mr. Kovacs if she were alive.” Poe interrupted, “Y/n would very slim of an opportunity to meet you. We don’t know the circumstances she is in or even her whereabouts if Y/n were to actually be alive. Perhaps it is better to take what you have left of Y/n and hold onto it. If she is alive, it is completely out of your hands.”

Tak walked away from Poe trying not to agree with what he was saying. He took a moment to stand on the balcony, letting the cigarette slowly burn away. He looked at the lively and bright city before him, his heart slowly but surely breaking. Rain soon engulfed the city like a flame, completely soaking his clothes, and camouflaging his tears.

~Flashback~

“You know Taki, although I do hate being in the city, it always looks so beautiful at night. The lights, the noise. It’s all so... surreal.” Y/n spoke looking out onto the cityscape from their room.

Aside from the pollution and screaming and yelling, the lights mixing with the thundering rain painted a beautiful picture. The way the colors mixed in water drops and the way skies lit up with lightning had Y/n in awe.

“I hate it no matter what it looks like. It’s nothing but criminals, sex, and secrets and everyone else having to deal with it” Tak said snaking his arms around her and holding her close placing small kisses on her neck.

“Sex sounds pretty good right about now...” Y/n gave smiled giving Tak a kiss.

Tak took in her all of her features and the way the wind combed through her hair perfectly and her eyes were just endless. It was her original body, but she was more than just looks. He loved every part of her no matter what body she was wearing, and being with her made him the happiest man in the world.

“God you're beautiful.” he said pulling her slose as possible

“You’re not too bad yourself, Taki.”

“Ugh. Stop calling me that. It sounds awful.”

“Make me.”

 ~Present~

At Bancroft’s Party, Tak was observing all of his friends and how they interacted with each other, especially Bancroft himself. He didn’t see anyone suspicious, actually all of them seemed like it, but there were several people that stood out. For all the wrong reasons anyway. Aside from the frilly dresses to eight pounds of makeup to some people just completely naked, all seemed normal.

Tak continued to down a few more shots when the mood of the room seemed to calm. People began to buzz amongst themselves and cluster together when this woman appeared. She was pretty, everyone at the party was supposed to be. Yet, she had something they didn’t, it was a certain way she looked down at even the highest of the high of people that caught his attention as well as everyone else's.

She didn’t mingle with the other guests, in fact, she made her way straight to the bar paying no attention to anyone or anything but the drink she would take in her hand. The burning liquor seemed to relieve the now noticeable anxious expression on her face.

“Not a fan of parties I take it?” Tak asked watching this woman down two more shots of really strong liquor with ease.

The sound of Tak’s voice caused her to slowly turn her head towards him. Her expression was unreadable, and she was trying to find the words to say but couldn’t. After a moment she steadied herself and spoke.

“Not a fan of these assholes that's for sure. I have never been to a party like this in a while, and never without a certain special someone. Now that I am here I think I can manage these clowns all night. And by the looks of it, you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself either mister.” She took a moment to take him in, she noticing he was fighting his own battle in this miserable place.

“Same situation you’re in I guess. Having to deal with their shit is a real fucking pain in the ass. You know these people?”

“I know of them, but they’re not why I’m here. I was looking for that special someone, it was rumored that they would be here tonight. Huge guest of honor I hear. I pulled all the strings I had in my back pocket to get into this party.”

“Over a rumor? Everyone likes an optimist I guess. I hope they’re worth it.” Tak downed one last drink before he tried to leave but her words stopped him.

"At least I think you are."

Tak paused for a moment. At first he was confused, he didn’t know this woman. But the more he thought about it, the more it actually didn’t make sense.

"Who the fuck are you?" He said more than aggitated thinking she was there to kill him or start something he had to finish.

“Taki, you still haven’t figured it out? So much for that envoy intuition.”

Taki?

“Y/N? It can't be. That's impossible your stack was...”

“It was ok. It was damaged only slightly but I needed a new sleeve for sure. This sleeve took a while to make and I had severe sleeve sickness afterwards. I was desperate to find you Taki. There is so much buzz around you now it was hard to get to you. I am so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner... Maybe I could’ve helped you with all of this I...”

Tak swooped Y/n into an embraced and kissed her. Even holding her was long overdue. He felt the grip on his mind release and felt his heart throb out his chest. Y/n melted in his arms and felt all tension leave her body. Between the tears and the I love yous, the time they spent apart was slowly erased.

Completely not caring about Bancroft and his death anymore Tak and Y/n navigated through the crowd and out the back door. Bancroft would have his head on a pike later but he didn't care.

Using the elevator they did their best to avoid cameras and other party goers who could point them out or stop them.

Tak waved down a cab and let Y/n slide in first. After taking a moment to breathe after practically running out of the place they both started laughing hysterically. He missed that laugh. Despite the new sleeve it sounded the same.

They began exchanging stories of their time apart, and Tak realized he had forgotten how badass Y/n can be. Her stories seemed more eventful and dramatic than he thought possible. It made Bancroft's death and party and cheap soiree.

When Tak took a turn spoke about how her 'death' affected him, Y/n's heart sank at every word. His whole demeanor changed and did her hardest to hold back the waterfall of tears in her eyes. All she wanted to was cradle him in her arms forever. He already had lost Quell, he shouldn't of had to lose her too.

They let the heaviness in the air between them fill the silence. There would be longer be a need for pain anymore. It was over.

The car soon came to a halt in front of the hotel and Tak had to brace Y/n for the storm that was Poe. In all honesty she couldn't wait to meet Tak's only friend through everything.

After an hour long interview with Poe, Y/n headed upstairs to Tak's room. He stayed behind to grab something to eat off of Poe to bring up.

The amount of bottles on the floor made her feel guilty. She knew he was alive and what happened but he didn't know about her. Even when he thought she was dead he looked for her and found nothing. There were times she questioned going back to him at all. Not because she didn't love him, because she thought he was better off. She thought wrong.

Hearing the elevator make it's way up she quickly got out her clothes and into one of his shirts on the floor. She laid on the bed trying not fall asleep on the extremely comfy mattress.

Tak stepped out of the elevator with drinks and something fancy on a plate but seeing Y/n he didn't think the food would even be touched. He just set it on the floor, took off his clothes, and slid into bed beside her.

She slid in closer to him and laid her head on his chest. His body felt so warm despite being out in the cold. Y/n didn't have a care in the world. Being in his arms was the only world she wanted any part of.

Tak took a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment and for once didn't feel any pain or guilt. At long last it was just silence and darkeness. He began to stroke her back just make sure she hadn't disappeared. Laying there in silence, just being in each other's presence after so long and given how exhausted they were from the last few hours was more than enough.

"I love you Taki. More than anything."

"I love you too Y/n/n."

"Ew don't call me that." Y/n giggled. "Never use it again."

"Make me."

There something Tak wanted to do before they closed in for the night. Something that took a moment for him to gather the nerve for. Despite the anxiety he was feeling, he had to make sure he wouldn't lose her again.

Sensing his anxiety, Y/n looked up at him.

"What's on your mind Taki?"

...

"Marry me"

***************

Tags: @ittie-bittie-tittie @pixelsinspace @umbrellabrass @fandomalert31

[scripts4dreamers]

Invisible String

AN: Just some fluffy goodness because love fucking rocks. Characters: Lex Miller  Pairing(s): Lex x reader Spoiler(s): none

Warning(s): None

Prompt: “hey! how are you? have you any plans for the end of summer? recently i've been feeling a bit down, idk why, maybe because i'm going to school soon :/ anyways, could i request some realyyy fluffy domestic shit w Lex? thank you! i hope you have a lovely day!” for @uhohscarlett

Inspiration: Invisible String by Taylor Swift

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

By the time you wake up, the sun is already high, peeking through the thin white curtains of your room and soaking into your skin. You sigh, still in that comfortable space between awake and asleep, and turn your head to face Lex. He looks younger when he’s sleeping, you noticed fondly, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your head. His skin had taken on some colour over the past few weeks, and the spray of freckles across his face were more noticeable than ever. It had become your personal mission to count them all but, unfortunately, Lex seemed to be allergic to staying still long enough for you to get a solid count done. He muttered something in his sleep, a string of meaningless syllables that could have been your name, and you felt your heart swell with love.

Slowly, doing your best to detangle yourself from Lex without disturbing him, you crept out of bed, throwing a silky robe over your pajamas and padding through the apartment to the kitchen. It was a beautiful place, one of your family’s many overseas properties, tucked away in the artist’s sector of Bergamo, Italy. It had been a nightmare convincing Lex to let you bring him but, once you’d stepped off that plane and landed on italian soil, it had been paradise. You hummed to yourself as you flitted about the kitchen making fresh coffee. You never really drank coffee at King’s, they only had the instant stuff that made your tastebuds scream but here, on holiday, it had become a part of your routine. The sunlight streamed in through the windows, bathing the apartment in golden light and illuminating the hastily discarded clothes strewn across the floor from the night before. It was cozy, and safe, and you kind of loved it there, especially when you felt two arms wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush against Lex’s bare chest.

“Morning, you,” you giggled as he buried his head in the crook of your neck and squeezed you tight.

“Good morning, darling,” he replied, his voice still thick with sleep, “why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve helped.”

You shrugged, pouring a cup of coffee and turning to face him, leaning against the counter. He always looked so soft and vulnerable in the morning, before his hair was gelled up, when all he had on was a pair of sweatpants and he clung to any affection you gave him like an octopus. It was a side of himself that he only ever let you see and you’d die before you betrayed the trust he’d put in you.

“You hate coffee,” you reminded him teasingly as you took a sip, “last time you tried to make it you almost broke the filter.”

Lex flushed and rolled his eyes, “That’s hardly my fault, love, it’s a confusing contraption.”

“It’s literally not,” you laughed, “there’s nothing simpler than filter coffee, nothing.”

“There’s instant.”

You shook your head, “Instant coffee isn’t coffee, it’s coffee flavoured water, we’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lex conceded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, “lucky for me, seeing you every morning is all the boost I need to get me through the day.”

You rolled your eyes, trying and failing to hide how happy you were, which earned a fond chuckle from Lex. He was disgustingly romantic, really. He had been since the moment you’d met but, for some reason, being in Italy with you seemed to crank it up to the max. Every day it was something new; buying you flowers at the market, leaving little love notes all over the house, cooking for you when you were too tired, running hot baths, anything he could do to show his love, Lex was doing. You’d have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it.

His dark eyes were sparkling with fondness as you watched him, sipping your coffee in silence as he bustled about the kitchen, whipping himself up a cup of tea.

“See something you like, darling?” he teased, sending a cheeky wink your way, “Cause you know everything here’s available for purchase.”

“Oh you know I do,” you teased back, “and, if last night is anything to go by, I’d say you’re pretty close to priceless.”

He chuckled. His back was to you as he stirred in a spoon of sugar but that didn’t stop you from seeing the flush that crept up his neck and shoulders at your compliment. Even after all the time you’d spent together, it was still so easy to get Lex flustered. You stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades, and he hummed contentedly in response as you breezed by him, getting everything ready for your breakfast.

Once Lex’s tea was brewed, he linked his fingers with yours and helped you cart the bread, cheeses and fruits out onto the little balcony which overlooked the street, placing everything gently on the small table that sat out there in the summer. It was still early enough that the sun wasn’t punishing yet, just warm and golden, and you sat, sipping your drinks, and watching the neighbourhood come to live around you. As always, Lex kept one hand on your thigh at all times, tilting his head back and letting his eyes drift shut as he soaked in the sun. He looked like a cat, stretching out and getting comfortable in the warmth, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing to do except talk and enjoy one another’s company.

It was such a change from King’s.

Lex opened his eyes, sensing the subtle shift in your mood and shooting you a questioning glance.

“You alright, Y/N/N?” he asked.

You smiled, resting your hand on top of his on your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze, “Of course, love. I just-” you sighed, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to go back,” Lex said, with a knowing glint in his eye.

You nodded, “It’s just so peaceful here. Everything feels so...right.”

He smiled, “That’s ‘cause of us though. It doesn’t matter where we are , darling, so long as we’re together, we’re golden.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Lex laughed, turning his chair to face you and taking one of your hands in both of his, “look, I know I’ve been a right sap this summer, and you’re probably getting sick of hearing me say this stuff but, I love you, Y/N. More than I thought possible. Being back at King’s won’t change that.”

“Won’t it?” you asked, your voice small.

Lex leaned forward, cupping your face with his hand and running his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek.

“Not even if we tried.”

You smiled, feeling another rush of love and, on impulse, launched yourself into his arms. Lex laughed like a kid on Christmas and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap as you wound your arms around his neck. It was comforting and safe and familiar and, as you breathed in his earthy scent, of tea leaves and soap, you felt the little knot of tension in your chest dissolve. You rested your head on Lex’s shoulder, letting his arms sliding up and down your thigh soothe you as the noises of the day started to filter in from the nearby market. You thought about the dinner you might cook, and what sort of spices went best with eggplant, as an overpowering sense of belonging started to settle into your bones. It was heavy and thick, but in a sort of nice way, like it was anchoring you instead of weighing you down and, for the first time, you let yourself picture the rest of your life with Lex.

At a place like King’s, the rest of your life was a shaky promise to make, even to yourself but, there, on that balcony, you wanted to make it. You wanted a life with Lex, a real one and, as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you let it sink in that that might’ve been what he wanted too. You wanted to say something, something to signify the way you were feeling, but everything seemed too cliche, too sickly sweet for you and Lex, who had always been a little on the gritty side.

“Promise me we’ll come back here?” you eventually asked, “One day, once we’ve graduated and started our lives.”

Perfect. It wasn’t much but it was something. It said that you wanted to still be together in a few years' time, that you wanted to build your future with him, no matter what that meant. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was something.

Lex was silent for a moment, hooking his finger under your chin and guiding your face up to his.

“You sure that’s what you want?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling the heat rush to your face at the way he was looking at you.

His answering smile was gentle, but radiant, filling you up with love and tenderness so intense that you had to smile back.

“Then of course we will, darling,” he said, “I promise.”

[mdelpin]

The Red Dragon - Chapter 34

AO3 | Tumblr: Ch1 | Ch33

Chapter 34

Gray’s soul had indeed tethered to his new body, but Igneel had attached his soul to it as well. This would allow him to cast the spell that would transfer his remaining life energy to Gray while he and Atlas raced to Natsu’s aid.

Or that had been the plan, anyway. Despite all of their considerable planning and research, there was one thing that apparently neither dragon had ever considered.

It was going to take some time for Gray to get used to having an actual dragon body.

While his first emotions and thoughts had been those of a dragon whose mate was in mortal peril, his first attempts at movement had been more akin to a baby fawn taking its first steps. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it had also dismayed him to realize that his newly heightened senses proved difficult for him to adjust to.

They wouldn’t be racing anywhere.

With no time for him to get his feet under him, there was no other choice than to have Igneel take control of the body’s movements while Gray focused on figuring out his magic.

As humiliating as it was to be a passenger inside his own body, Gray was actually grateful to have one thing less to worry about. It ensured they would get to Natsu sooner, and that was the most important thing to him.

He focused on the soul bond he shared with Natsu, delighted to discover their connection felt even stronger than before. It didn’t take him long to feel his mate’s location and lead Atlas and Igneel there.

They landed a short distance away from the battle and, though Gray itched to go help Natsu, Igneel kept his feet planted firmly on the ground, determined to use the element of surprise to their advantage.

Gray struggled to remain silent as Igneel and Atlas discussed the locations of the different combatants and drafted a battle plan. One that depended on his magic actually having the counter spelling effect they’d observed in the astral realm when Igneel had attempted to breathe fire on it during their experimentation.

He felt Atlas stiffen next to him as Acnologia began to cast a spell on a defeated looking Natsu and Gray felt his rage mount. His magic screamed to be let out and just as he was about to comply, he heard a dispirited Natsu in his head.

Please hurry, I don’t think I’m going to make it this time…

Not even Igneel could stop him from replying to that. He communicated all of his love, rage and determination through the bond, hoping to boost his mate’s fighting spirit.

Don’t you dare give up, Flame-Brain! Help is on the way…

Gray collected as much magic as he felt he could control, letting it out through his mouth in one large burst and watching as the strange mist crept towards Natsu and Acnologia.

“Those markings are back,” Atlas said. “That mist is definitely connected to them somehow.”

Gray glanced down to see that black inky substance work its way up his right foreleg, leaving a trail of strange markings in its wake.

Sure, why not?!

He was about to take part in a battle unlike any he’d ever experienced before, in a body he couldn’t control, using a magic he didn’t fully understand. To say he was terrified would be an understatement, but he hadn’t changed everything he was to let this asshole take his happy ending away from him now.

Igneel spoke up then. I know you’re scared. This is your first time using this magic and you’re not convinced it will do much, but I have faith in you- in your courage and determination to do what’s needed.

I’ll do my best. Gray felt a twinge in his heart at the thought that Igneel would soon be gone forever.

I know you will. Just follow your instincts, they will be your greatest ally in this fight.

It didn’t take long for him to realize Igneel was right. If he didn’t know what he was doing, then he might as well surrender to his instincts in the hopes they did. He emptied his mind of all doubt and followed his intuition.

His first impulse was to lift his marked foreleg towards the mist, noting with increased amazement that the mist seemed to respond to the gesture.

0-0

Natsu watched the mist advance toward him, covering the ground quickly. As it neared, he became even more convinced of its origin. It wasn’t a perfect match by any means, but it carried just enough of Gray’s scent to identify it.

But what was Gray even doing here?!

He couldn’t understand what could have possessed Atlas and his father to bring his mate along when they knew how deadly Acnologia was. And what was this magic? It was like nothing he’d ever seen Gray cast before.

All these questions made him feel uneasy, but he had to set them aside for now. There would be plenty of time for that once the fight was over. At the very least, he knew he should have nothing to fear from it.

He’d just have to make sure not to act in any way that would alert Acnologia to Gray’s presence, and hope that was enough to keep him safe. With any luck, the dragons' scents would be enough to conceal it.

The unexpected appearance of the mist had prompted Acnologia to cease casting his spell and Natsu couldn’t help the surge of pride he felt at seeing the hesitation and uncertainty on the renegade’s face as he too studied it.

When the mist enveloped Natsu, he felt a cool numbness spread through his acid-etched scales. The smoke ceased to pour out from them, and he felt blessed relief as the acid seemed to be completely denatured upon contact with it.

Natsu struggled to his feet and used the reprieve to cast a quick healing spell. He felt the deeper wounds mend, and some of his strength returned, but his magic was unable to mend his wing or scales. As soon as the energy emerged from his body and touched the mist, it sputtered and dissipated like a candle being blown out. At the same time, the mist seemed to become more agitated where it touched his magic.

What the hell?

Natsu panicked at this revelation, but his concern quickly turned to absolute shock and confusion as the voice of his soul-mate sounded in his head, albeit with an odd deep undertone, as if someone else were speaking in harmony with him, sounding nothing like what he was used to.

Don't worry Love, I'm(We're) here now.

The mist continued rolling past Natsu, heading directly toward Acnologia. As it approached the renegade, the thick blanket roiled and churned, making it seem as though the fog itself was angry. Swells rose within the mist and sped toward the black dragon, stopping at the leading edge of the mass, but pushing it forward in a ragged advance.

As the waves within the mist grew higher and were almost large enough to crest, Acnologia unleashed a torrent of hellfire at the oncoming fog. Rather than evaporating it or even pushing it back, the moment the flames touched it, they guttered and withered away to nothing. At the same time, the blanket of fog exploded into a massive cloud that covered the entire area of the clearing where the two dragons stood.

The sparks that whirled within the cloud flared brightly as they ceased their chaotic spinning and gathered together into pairs. Each set of lights was only a few inches apart and approximately six feet above the ground. They seemed to draw the cloud around themselves as if it were a misty cloak, and within ten seconds after Acnologia's hellfire was spent, the cloud had shifted into a troop of twelve humanoid forms, their eyes blazing with twin pools of pure magic.

The figures stood between the two dragons, facing Acnologia, and as one, they crouched and reached into the thick fog at their feet. As they stood and continued their advance, each form drew various types of martial weapons fashioned out of gleaming ice from the mist. The six forms at the front wielded falchions and short spears paired with large, foggy shields. The four standing directly behind the front line held a pair of long spears and a pair of halberds, while the last two star-eyed warriors in the rear held a pair of heavy crossbows.

It was clear that Acnologia was at a complete loss as to what was going on. With a roar, he unleashed a volley of lightning bolts at the misty warriors. The foggy shields intercepted most of the bolts and the electricity disappeared within them with no effect other than a brief brightening of their starry eyes. One bolt skirted the edge of a shield and it hit one of the crossbow carriers. Its weapon shattered into glittering shards of ice, carving a hole through its torso before the lightning grounded out into the blanket of fog. But the warrior did not fall or even falter. It simply crouched again and drew another crossbow from the fog as the hole in its chest filled in with more mist.

The warriors retaliated with a charge at the black dragon, and he responded by raising a wall of ice between himself and them. But while it seemed thick and impressive, within seconds, there was an ominous crackling sound from its base as the fog quickly ate through the foundation. The six leading warriors concluded their charge with a shield bash against the wall, and the ten foot tall structure toppled over, forcing the dragon to leap backward to avoid being hit.

The mist warriors moved around the crumbling remains of the ice wall and continued their march on Acnologia. Gajeel took advantage of the distraction, transforming his arm into a massive steel sword, and swinging it at the dragon’s back leg. The sword broke off a few scales and left a small gash just above the knee, but Acnologia knocked it away with a swipe of his tail, sending Gajeel tumbling across the clearing.

Rogue provided cover for the downed slayer, forming a large curtain of shadow interposed between the black dragon and where Gajeel lay. The shadow caster gasped as he felt the drain on his magic from where the shadows touched the blanket of fog, and he concentrated on trying to keep the curtain close without touching the strange mist. He looked around, trying to locate its source, and he saw when it reached the shield dome.

The dome’s holy light dimmed sharply upon contact, and the blanket of fog reacted by surging against the dome like breakers. Rogue could make out the form of Sting collapsing to one knee for a moment before stubbornly hauling himself back to his feet. Rogue took a step toward his mate, but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the mist pull back a bit, leaving the shield dome as a small island untouched by the sea of fog that covered the rest of the clearing.

As impressed as he was by Sting’s efforts, Rogue couldn’t help but worry. His mate was expending a ton of magic to hold that barrier spell. How much longer could he keep it up? He had to be running low by now, but despite that, he showed no sign of slowing down.

His chest swelled with pride and for just a moment he flooded their bond with it so that Sting could know how he felt.

You’re amazing, I love you!

Sting didn’t respond with words, but the love that flowed back from him was unmistakable. Rogue thought he noticed a tightening of his stance and a slight glow to his body that hadn’t been there before.

Shaking his head with a smile, Rogue returned to scanning the clearing for more information. He saw two dragons emerge from the shadows of the trees. One he immediately recognized as Atlas, but the other looked nothing like Igneel. It was a dragon he’d never seen before.

Its body was covered in navy and white colored fur, rather than scales. A silver marking decorated its chest, its shape making Rogue think of a sword, while its horns, talons, wings and even the tip of its tail all looked like they were made of ice.

An ice dragon?

If so, it was certainly unlike any he’d ever seen. And what were those black symbols on its foreleg?

The more he looked at the dragon, the more Rogue couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about it, but he shrugged the thought away, deeming it too ridiculous.

The two dragons approached Natsu while the star-eyed warriors held Acnologia at bay, and Rogue continued casting curtains of shadow and forming vague decoys shaped like the warriors to assist them in their battle against the raging black dragon.

0-0

With Acnologia somewhat occupied for the moment, Atlas and Gray rushed over to Natsu to check up on him. Gray kept the bulk of his attention on the figures he called Dragongard in his head, making sure they continued to put pressure on the black dragon.

Truth be told, he was incredibly pleased with how well he’d been able to adapt his maker magic to his as yet unnamed new one, but it took a lot out of him to control the individual mist constructs.

Gray watched Natsu intently, trying to gage his reaction as he knew there was no way his mate wouldn’t figure out who he was right away. Over the last few weeks, he’d explored many fantasies of how he’d present himself to Natsu when the moment came, but not a single one of them had played out like this.

“Gray?!” Natsu gawked at Gray’s new form.

“Surprise?”

Gray felt suddenly bashful. He didn’t know what to say or where to look, too worried about what Natsu might think of his sudden transformation.

“You’re so beautiful!” Natsu breathed, his eyes shining with unconcealed affection.

“You really think so?”

“Can you two hold off on flirting until we’re not fighting for our lives?” Atlas grumbled.

Natsu tore his eyes away from Gray long enough to ask, “But how did you do this, and what is that magic?! It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“I hardly think this is the time to be asking those sorts of questions.” Atlas held Natsu’s gaze with an equanimity that Gray envied, especially given what he knew of Atlas’ feelings on the matter.

He, on the other hand, could only stand tongue tied and paralyzed by the onslaught of all of Natsu’s conflicting emotions bombarding him through their bond, not to mention his own guilt at having Igneel within him.

Gray felt Natsu prodding at their bond and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what to tell him, too terrified of letting what he was feeling filter through.

Igneel’s voice resonated in his mind. I know you want to tell him everything, but now isn’t the right time. He still needs to fight.

Gray couldn’t deny the truth in Igneel’s words, but they did nothing to ease his guilt at withholding the fire dragon’s presence from his mate. He could feel Igneel’s magic working away inside of him and had the presence of mind to realize his father-in-law would likely disappear once the spell had finished. Wasn’t he depriving Natsu of his last chance to say goodbye to his father?

A sudden thought occurred to him, something he hadn’t considered before. If they defeated Acnologia before Igneel’s spell had run its course, then they might be able to restore the fire dragon’s soul to its former state. And wouldn’t that mean that Igneel could reunite with Porlyusica after all?

He wanted to ask Atlas, but he couldn’t do that in front of Natsu and he didn’t want to get Igneel’s hopes up if he was wrong.

One thing was for sure, if that outcome was in any way possible, then he would do his damndest to make it happen. At least then, Natsu and Atlas could both know peace.

He reached for his magic with renewed vigor, determined to put an end to the renegade’s reign of terror as quickly as possible.

0-0

Atlas left Natsu to Gray as he quickly flew over to the shield dome. He stood before it, impatiently waiting for Sting to let him through. That was, until he realized the dragon slayer’s eyes were closed, and he was oblivious to anything other than maintaining his magic. The dragon raised one massive claw and gently, but firmly, knocked on the shield.

Sting opened his eyes with a start, but soon realized that he was facing the hellfire dragon rather than another attack. He shook his head and looked around blearily until he located Acnologia at the other end of the clearing. He quickly opened a hole in the shield large enough to admit the dragon.

Atlas wasted no time in entering and looking over Wendy’s patients. Nodding firmly, he stepped forward and gently pulled her back with a claw while he cast his own healing magic on Wendy and the three injured combatants. Wendy fell back on her rear, propping herself up with her arms. Sweat streamed down her face and she panted in relief.

“Nice of you to make an appearance.” Irene said once he’d finished, sitting up and offering the hellfire dragon a tight smile. “What’s going on out there?”

“Gray, Rogue and Gajeel have Acnologia contained for the moment, but who knows how long that will last. I need to get you all out of here quickly.” Atlas replied, noticing the patches of dragon scales Natsu had mentioned.

“Gray’s here? Natsu’s gonna flip out.”

“He already knows. I was just with them.” Atlas answered Sting absently, looking over the wounded to assess the results of his healing spell.

Happy’s wings appeared to have healed nicely, but his hind legs were still in terrible shape. Oliver’s wounds had all but closed up, but he was unconscious. He’d have to ask Irene to keep an eye on him, which would also serve to keep her out of trouble, as she wasn’t completely out of the woods, either. Wendy and Sting were almost out of magic, so he cast one last spell to replenish some of their magic stores.

It was the best he could do for them. The day’s earlier spells had used up a lot of his magic, and then he’d cast a speed spell on himself and Gray to make up some of the time they’d lost. He was wiped.

“Happy, do you think you can get back in there?”

Atlas hated to ask the young dragon to get back in the fight when he must still be in pain, but he couldn’t afford not to.

“Aye, Sir!”

He felt especially cruel because he knew Happy looked up to him and would never say no, but there was still a chance that if they killed Acnologia before Igneel’s spell ran its course his soul would heal and he wouldn’t have to experience soul death. They had to try to make that happen.

“Alright, that’s as much as I can do for you right now. I don’t have a lot of magic to spare, but I healed and boosted what I could. There are a few things you should know before we go. Gray is a dragon now, so Sting and Wendy, I’m going to fly you over to him. You’re going to have to help him fight however you can as he has less combat experience and is still learning his magic.”

“Gray’s a dragon?!”

Atlas ignored Wendy’s question in favor of giving instructions. “Irene, I’ll fly you and Oliver somewhere safer. You’ll have to remain there until the fight is over. I’ll try to heal the rest of your injuries then.”

“What do you mean Gray’s a dragon now? You can’t just say something like that and not explain. How? And what about Rogue and Gajeel? And where’s Igneel?”

“There’s no time to waste.” Atlas said, too tired to inject his usual bluster into his reply. “Our friends need us. I’ll explain everything once we’ve killed that bastard. Now, everyone climb on. Sting, don’t release your barrier until we take off.”

Atlas picked up Oliver in his talons, being careful not to jostle him too much. He could tell that Sting and Wendy were unhappy at being kept in the dark, but they climbed on and didn’t put up any more of a fuss. A minute later, he and Happy took off.

They split up, Happy rejoining the fight, while Atlas flew towards Gray and Natsu, wanting to drop Sting and Wendy off so he could find a safe place for Irene and Oliver.

0-0

Acnologia might have been on the back foot, but he was far from defeated. A reinvigorated Natsu traded blows of claw, fang, and tail with the black dragon while the star-eyed warriors continually harassed his flanks. The swords and halberds tore scales off of the dragon whenever an opening presented itself, while the spears and crossbow bolts sought out those vulnerable openings.

Any time one of the icy weapons struck deep, the raging dragon roared in pain and fury, spinning to face the warriors and drive them back again. Whenever he saw an opening, he flung some form of magic at the dark blue dragon lurking behind Atlas. Invariably, each attack was intercepted by a large shield of holy light cast by Sting. Gray and Atlas repositioned themselves continuously, keeping the Dragongard between themselves and Acnologia.

Wendy had immediately attempted to cast a reinforcement spell on her teammates. That spell failed, however, as it tried to envelop the entire body of the person, and the magic quickly drained wherever it remained in contact with the fog.

Her next attempt was a smaller and more targeted spell. This one focused on the person’s head, imbuing them with enhanced senses and quicker thought and reaction speed. It seemed to help, so she concentrated on keeping as many of her teammates in sight as she could and maintained the spell on them while she sat astride Gray’s massive back behind Sting. One hand clutched Sting’s shirt tightly, while the other was raised with a ball of wispy magic that extended long ephemeral tendrils that kept her connected to each of the combatants receiving her enhancement.

Sting held on to one of the fin spikes on Gray’s neck with one hand while his other was constantly raised palm outward toward Acnologia, prepared to cast a shield at a moment’s notice. It burned him that he couldn’t take a more aggressive role in the battle, but he knew there was nothing he could physically do to injure the dragon, and while the mist was a tremendous equalizer, it still did nothing to prevent the black dragon’s immunity to magic.

He did his best to focus on the dragon’s attacks, struggling to avoid being distracted by the sight of Rogue risking his life as he darted around the battleground, casting various spells to distract and hamper their foe. He was tiring, though, and as another bolt of lightning flew toward them, he failed to summon another ward in time. They all braced for a blow that never came. The development was made even more peculiar by the sound of Acnologia’s frustrated roar.

“What happened?” Sting asked, glancing around to see if Natsu or Atlas had intervened.

“I don’t know, right as that attack was about to hit there was ... I don’t know, something.” Gray said, not knowing how to explain what he’d seen. It was like a shield had manifested out of his chest to stop the blast, but it had felt like Natsu’s magic, not his own. And his mate had been nowhere near him when it happened.

He moved them once again, puzzling about what it could all mean, and wondering if maybe he’d discovered some other magic. He decided to ask Igneel about it.

Do you know what that was?

I’m not sure, but it did feel like Natsu’s magic. Maybe something to do with your pendant? He imbued it with a lot of protection magic and it saved you once before....

Happy circled above the fight once more, looking for any opportunity to swoop in and attack. He’d learned from the last encounter to account for the black dragon’s tail and ensure his opponent was thoroughly distracted this time.

Seeing an opening as an icy crossbow bolt struck deep into the dragon’s side while Natsu’s jaws were clamped on Acnologia’s tail, he dove, landing with all four legs right on the black dragon’s head, driving it under the blanket of fog and into the ground. Happy tried to regain his footing and move clear, but the pain in his legs slowed him down.

The black dragon shook off the stunning blow too quickly and managed to grab one of the young dragon’s legs in his jaws. His powerful neck whipped around and threw Happy at Natsu. They collided with a sickening crunch, and they were both bowled back toward where Atlas and Gray stood.

“Natsu!” Gray cried as he darted forward, almost unseating Sting and Wendy in his haste, the mist flickered and the Dragongard seemed to hesitate in his distress. He noted with some trepidation that Igneel’s control over his limbs was weakening. His mental acuity, however, seemed to be intact.

I know it’s difficult, but you must keep a level head, Gray. If you don’t, all is lost.

I know, I know! I just-, I can’t lose him now.

Trust in him… the key to defeating Acnologia lies within you both. I can feel it.

“I’ve got them! You just focus, damn it!” Atlas scolded, hurrying to check both dragons over. Natsu was fine, but Happy’s legs would need to be tended to. He lifted the small dragon out of the blanket of fog and cast a healing spell, using up what little magic he had left.

Gray glared at Acnologia, who still looked slightly wobbly from the blow to the head. How could the damn bastard be so hard to kill?

“Die already.” He spat out, his frustration mounting as Igneel’s time counted down and his hopes of a quick defeat were dashed over and over again.

He directed his star-eyed warriors to close ranks and form a shield wall to guard their downed teammates, then he leaned down and nuzzled the fire dragon’s head gently.

“Get up, Natsu. Battle’s not done yet,” Gray said while looking his mate over for any severe injuries. Other than minor cuts and missing scales here and there, the only major problem was Natsu’s torn wing sails. There had been no opportunity to remove him from the fight long enough to heal them.

“Y-Yeah yeah, I know. I’m going. It’s just so frustrating. No matter how hard we hit him, it’s never enough to keep him down,”

As he got to his feet, Natsu noticed something strange. Well, stranger than every other strange thing that had happened since Gray had arrived. As Gray’s new dragon body crouched over Natsu, close enough that the red dragon could feel his mate’s icy cool breath on the back of his head, his eyes were drawn to the silver marking on Gray’s chest. He had noticed it earlier, and thought it was beautiful. It reminded him of the token he had given Gray, but what he noticed now was that it was glowing — pulsing as if it were a beating heart — and it seemed to glow even brighter as he drew closer to examine it.

“Princess… what is that?” Natsu whispered as he lifted a claw and touched the silver marking. Upon contact, there was an actinic flash of light, and he reared back in surprise. That surprise was multiplied as he found his claw was drawing a silver colored icy sword out of Gray’s chest, hollowing out the marking until it appeared as only an outline.

The hilt fit perfectly in his draconic grip, as though it were intentionally forged for it, and small motes of starlight swam through the ice of the blade, causing the silver edge to twinkle as wisps of mist curled around it. Natsu regained his footing and rose up onto his back legs as he lifted the sword and gazed at it in dumbfounded wonder.

“Gray… what is this?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it saved us earlier too.”

Natsu examined the sword’s magical signature closely. “It feels like it has both of our magics running through it.”

“Do you think it might be enough?” Gray dared to hope. He could feel Igneel getting weaker, and he knew they were running out of time.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell going to find out,” Natsu readied himself for another charge, hoping against hope that it would be the last one. He was exhausted and knew the others weren’t doing much better. “You think you can give me some cover?”

Gray answered by thickening the existing fog between them and Acnologia, and making it taller.

Atlas took to the air. Given how tired he was, he had no illusions of inflicting any actual damage, but he knew he was one of the few dragons left that Acnologia considered a threat, and he was certainly going to use that to their advantage. All he had to do was distract him long enough for Natsu to get at him.

Natsu advanced on Acnologia, carefully hiding the sword clutched in his claw under the cloak of the fog covering the ground. He watched as the black dragon batted at the star-eyed warriors with a massive tree trunk. It drove them back and held them at bay even as the dragon used the wooden cudgel to parry a series of strikes from Gajeel, then riposte with a swing that sent the iron dragon slayer diving back out of the way.

Atlas roared in challenge and dove towards Acnologia, commanding his attention. Natsu wasted no time in making use of the opening his uncle had provided and made his move.

“Acnologia! Your senseless slaughter ends now.” Natsu challenged the black dragon boldly. “You will not live to see another dragon reaped.”

Acnologia drew back the tree trunk, his gaze darting between Atlas and Natsu. He opted to swing it at Natsu’s head, but the red dragon reared on his hind legs and raised the hidden sword in a parry. The silver edge of the sword bit deep into the wood, and the momentum of the swing split the trunk in two. Acnologia dropped the stump of his cudgel and slashed at Natsu with his claws, and Natsu swung the sword up in a strike that met the black dragon’s arm right at the armpit. There was a crunch and a loud pop, and the dragon’s arm separated from its owner in a gout of blood.

Acnologia’s head reared back with an anguished roar, but moments later, the roar fell off and turned into a gurgling cough. His neck bent curiously, and he stared down at the icy sword embedded hilt deep in his chest.

“What? No… I-I…”

He fell back, causing the sword to slide out of his chest. As it withdrew, it was covered, not in blood, but in a shimmery aura of pale light. Acnologia collapsed to the ground, his head covered by the blanket of fog, but where his chest rose above the mist like an island at sea, the hole in it leaked equal parts blood and pale light. The blood dripped down, but the light coalesced into globes, each of them hovering above the dead dragon for a few moments as they grew.

Gray dispelled his magic, and the fog faded away, revealing the mangled remains of the battlefield.

Natsu turned and walked back to Gray, holding the sword out to his mate reverently, point down. As it neared his chest, the outline of his marking pulsed in time with the light of the sword, and when they touched, the sword disappeared, returning to a silvery marking on the dragon’s chest.

Atlas landed next to them, having collected Rogue and Gajeel from the trench. They all stood together, exhausted but proud, as they watched the globes continuing to pour out of Acnologia’s body. Some of them winked and fizzled out and Natsu took a moment to grieve for them, knowing there would be no Dragon Eyrie for them or even the chance to be reborn. Their existence was over.

He rejoiced to see the number of globes that suddenly raced off in the direction of Drak Aast far outnumbered them. His thoughts immediately went to Weisslogia, hoping that regaining the missing portions of his soul would help the white dragon regain some of the strength he’d lost, and to Belserion, who had selflessly sacrificed his soul so that Natsu might live.

One last globe remained in the sky, glowing softly above them and Natsu felt drawn to it. He instinctively knew this was the missing piece of his father’s soul. The relief he felt at the thought that his parents could now reunite was immeasurable and he watched its trajectory with a smile, expecting to watch it race towards their cave where his father no doubt awaited their return. But rather than do that, it slowly traveled towards them and entered Gray’s body.

Natsu stared at Gray with mounting confusion. Why would his father’s soul enter his mate’s body? Souls were tethered to their earthly vessels. It didn’t make any sense. He turned to Atlas for an explanation, but his uncle wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Atlas?”

Natsu remembered that deep undertone he’d heard in his soul bond earlier and shook his head, dismissing the thought before it could gain any traction.

No, it couldn’t be.

But as much as he wanted to deny it, things were adding up.

He had grown up around Atlas and his father, listening to them talk about the limits and applications of magic for hours on end. More than once he’d heard them speak of the existence of spells so powerful they required sacrifices from the caster, although it was usually things like life force, like the spell his father had used to transform into a human temporarily.

Wait, did that mean that Gray’s transformation was also temporary? His heart sank. He'd allowed himself to believe that the impossible had somehow come to pass and they could be like this forever. Natsu wanted to ask, but he didn’t want Gray to think he was disappointed, and the truth was he loved him no matter what. That would just have been more convenient.

None of these thoughts were helping him to figure out what was happening, and he was done guessing. He looked at Atlas once again, determined to get answers this time.

“Atlas, what’s going on?”

“Natsu, I-”

“No.” Atlas interrupted Gray. “I’ll tell him. He deserves to hear it from me.”

The dragon slayers whispered amongst themselves, none of them understanding what was happening but feeling the tension in the air.

“Igneel’s gone.” Atlas finally looked up at him, and the pain Natsu saw in his eyes was enough to let him know his uncle was speaking the truth.

“Dad’s gone?”

Natsu felt like he couldn’t breathe. Even if he’d suspected as much, hearing it spoken aloud was more than he could bear. Gray’s worry and grief inundated their bond, and it was then Natsu realized it had felt muted earlier, but he’d been too focused on the fight to notice.

“Once he realized Gray possessed a dragon soul, he became determined to find a way to give you the life he’d always promised you.” Atlas’ usual bluster was nowhere to be seen, and Natsu felt for him too. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it must have been for his uncle to go along with this. “He wanted that more than anything. I tried to find another way but—,” his voice broke as he added, “there just wasn’t enough time.”

Gray had a dragon soul? But how could that be? What would have made his father ever think that?

Natsu shook those thoughts aside, recognizing them for the distractions they were. It was just his mind’s way of distancing him from the pain he didn’t want to accept.

He could see it so clearly now. That invitation to go flying together had been so out of character for his father. Not only that, after a lifetime of avoiding his questions, Igneel had shown him his mother at long last. And then there had been that strange comment about getting Natsu what he needed.

Everything clicked into place then, and he could no longer deny the truth of it. His father had given up his life so that he and Gray could have a chance at a normal life together. It was an incredibly selfless act, but all Natsu could think about at that moment was that if things had gone differently, then he would once again be the reason that his parents were separated.

Except this time it would have been for eternity, and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“You didn’t need to do that!!” Natsu yelled out in a strangled cry.

“Natsu?” Gray reached out to touch him, but Natsu shook his head, not wanting his comfort, at least not yet.

Of course I didn’t need to, I wanted to.

Igneel’s voice rang in his head a moment before Gray’s body pulsed with a blinding light and his legs buckled underneath him. Natsu moved to help, but before he could do so a beam of light shot out of his mate and into the air. It flickered and coalesced into a semblance of his father.

“I’m so glad I got to see you once more.”

Igneel hovered above them, and although there were many cries of surprise at his sudden appearance, the red dragon only had eyes for Natsu.

His form flickered and flared in the air, making it all too clear that it wouldn’t be long before he was gone for good. But all Natsu could do was stare back in frustration.

How was he supposed to just accept all of this when Igneel had been there for him ever since he could remember? Offering his counsel and showering him with affection when it seemed like there was no one else who understood him.

“Why?” Natsu struggled to find the words he wanted to say, even as the tears began to flow. “You should have told me what you were planning! I could have- I would have-”

“Natsu,” Igneel interrupted, his eyes pleading with him in a way Natsu had never seen before, “There was nothing you could have done. I know this is hard for you to understand, but I needed to do this. Not just for the two of you, but for myself as well. I wanted my life to amount to more than just the sum of my mistakes.”

You’ve always tried to do your best for the ones you love. I think sometimes you forget you deserve to be happy too, and that’s what I wanted to give you.” Igneel’s smile was fond and warm and damn it, it hurt, because Natsu knew this was the last time he’d see it. “Seeing the two of you like this, and knowing how far you both had to grow to get to this point, it makes me so proud of both of you.”

Igneel’s form began to fade and Natsu reached out with his hand, even though he already knew there was nothing there for him to grab hold of. “Please,” he sobbed. “I just want a little more time with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Natsu, In your heart and in your memories.”

Igneel turned his head suddenly, and when he looked back at Natsu, there were tears in his eyes. “I can hear your mother calling for me.” His voice trembled with the yearning he’d tried to hide for so long. “I can’t wait to tell her all about you. Take care of each other, my sons.”

His last words were barely a whisper as his form flickered one last time before reshaping into a globe and racing skyward. Natsu watched for as long as he could make out its progress, making no effort to stop his tears.

“Thank you, Dad.”

And even as his heart ached, he also felt a sense of peace settle over him. His parents, separated for so long, would once again be free to continue their eternal dance. He felt a tail coiling around his, as an icy wing attempted to envelop him in a tight hug, grounding him and reminding him that despite the enormous loss he’d suffered, he’d also gained something of equal value - a lifetime with his Ice Princess.

A/N: I have mixed feelings about this one, it was by far the hardest chapter to write to date. I'm glad that while Igneel died, he was able to get his fondest wish in the end. He's one of my favorite dragons in the series and I really enjoyed giving him more life than he usually gets. Next chapter they'll finally head home. 

 I really love what Dein did with Gray's magic. Acnologia was so incredibly overpowered that the only thing that could help defeat him was to neutralize his magic and put them all on an even playing field. Maker magic is so incredibly versatile, and I really enjoyed how Gray used it to create those warriors, which reminded me a bit of both his decoys and of course the weapons he constantly makes in canon. 

 When I first asked @khaoticvex​ to design Gray's dragon form (God in like April of 2020) I was blown away by what she came up with. She incorporated all of Gray's magic and elements in his design. One of the things I instantly loved and wanted to do something with was the sword pendant. She had made it into a marking on his chest and that is where a lot of the inspiration for that scene came from. She also included his devil slayer markings which I had not considered using at first, but opened up the possibility for this magic Dein created which we are currently calling NegaMagic as it negates magic. ;) 

 I hope you enjoy this chapter. Only one left... I'll get to work on it soon. It should hopefully be up on or before August 30th.

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Mihael Keehl

You can check tosikowrites tag for more! Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

The most straightforward among main three of Wammy’s boys. His interpretation of own feelings is excellent and he makes sure everybody around knows about them. If he hates you, you’ll feel a burning hole in your back whether it is because of intense staring or literal bullet. If he loves you, you’ll be surrounded by abundance of affection.

When it comes to person he loves, Mello is very vocal. Words do matter, they oblige you and put responsibility on your shoulders. That’s why he loves to brag about his dearest to the closest friends, and even acquaintances know about this one special person. Another important thing is nickname, which Mello chooses based on the brightest features of character/appearance. Baby, honey, dearest are common too but he feels that  they deserve exceptional treatment and exceptional nickname.

He absolutely loves physical affection. Skin to skin contact gives him weird sensation right in the head as if he can physically feel neurons releasing dopamine. It also helps with keeping his anxiety under control.

By the way, sometimes inferiority complex gets the best of him, and in these moments he is extremely capricious. For the same reason Mello may act like his loved one deserves everything, while he can go with bare minimum.

He is great at reassurances. The second he realizes his loved one is insecure, upset, lost, the gears in his head start zealously turning. The words he uttered are always spoken in the right tone and able to touch the necessary strings of the soul. At the same time Mello always has doubts in the efforts made.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Friendship with Mello carries spirit of 80s-90s. It’s a wild ride he once invited you to and then you couldn’t get off. Stuff gets messy, stuff gets hot, but it doesn’t matter until you both have fun.

He will roast you so much and will never get offended if you roast him in response. Mello aims for a good laugh only. His favorite entertainment is to go shopping together just to critic each other’s outfits.

You better move that body when he drags you on the dance-floor. Blasting music and colorful lights make him feel like a fish in the water so Mello will try to teach you dance. Yes, from the easiest ones to Michael Jackson’s moonwalk.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles are essential for relationship with Mello. He enjoys snuggle up to his loved one on calm evenings, when there’s nothing to disturb the peace. Warmness of loved one’s head on his chest and smell of their skin calm him down better than chamomile-mint tea. He loves to listen to the sound of another person’s heartbeat as well.

Mello has one pet peeve tho: frequent head pats and hair stroking lead to greasy hair and this is exactly what he hates. If they put hand on his beautiful blond locks, he will take them by the finger and place their palm on his lips. This is a small but very loud gesture.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The thought of settling down     never popped up in his head. Mello is way too young, he wants to live his     life to the maximum without thinking about another dirty plate in the sink     or how long it takes to make boiled eggs. Based on this you can say he     doesn’t like to do any housework. His cooking skills are decent but he     prefers creative mess to boring order. Mello likes to help someone in     kitchen when he is in the good mood.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nervous type he is, Mello doesn’t want to end this relationship. But he has to. But he can’t. He is indecisive and hesitates on the way to them. Hell, if they are in good mood or overly excited, Mello won't say a word about break up. In his mind it has to be like pulling a tooth – painful but necessary, - but real life doesn’t work that way. When the moment finally comes he cannot keep his voice steady. Mello tries to end it as fast as possible and hold back a scream because yelling at his loved one is something he promised he’ll never do. Actually, I can see him doing something impulsive to blow off steam. Breaking random stuff, for example, or shooting bottles.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

No. Getting married is too much. He can’t see wedding bells ring no matter how hard he tries. Every day he becomes more confident in thought that strong sincere relationship do not need bureaucracy in the form of marriage. The only time you need a marriage certificate is during the divorce process. Mello isn’t 100% sure but pretty close to this percentage. If his loved one insists on marriage he will immerse in conflicting feelings. Then his next actions will depend on many factors but Mello definitely will try to explain his  position and convince them in its     validity.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Mello is on the rougher side when it comes to both physical and emotional affection. Childhood in the orphanage, involvement with the mafia, psychological issues, and responsibility placed on his shoulders taught it is necessity to be tough to survive in this world. When he lets his guard down nasty inner voice keeps reminding Mello about situations in which it could be a critical mistake. This leads us to the next point.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Here he comes, another  touched-starved male with trust issues. Mello needs time to get used to soft touch of other’s person hands. Sometimes he puts too much strength in his hugs and it may come across a little rough. Likes them anyway, takes initiative 90% of the time.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It completely and entirely depends on his gut feeling. Something elusive tells him whether to trust a person or not, it’s not a rational decision. As soon as this strange sensation appears, he will immediately calmly utter three treasured words, and it’s not even so important for him to hear them in return. Mello just wants another person to know that they have become an integral part of his life.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

In addition to being easily jealous, Mello is scary as hell when someone is hitting on his loved one. If he witness such insolence, he will be extremely vocal and, well, unexpectedly rude. He is not afraid to get physical too.

If it’s his loved one who is acting flirtatious, Mello will be pissed off as well. His feelings are explosive mix of disappointment, anger, malcontent. It’s better to get off his way and let him cool a little before trying to explain anything or make excuses. In a fit of jealous rage he may say some terrible things which he’ll regret later.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

The most passionate kisser imaginable. He loves to kiss and he knows how to do it properly so why would you complain. He tends to forget about personal boundaries in process so make out sessions can get really… touchy. Anyway, loves to shower his loved one with kisses all over them, but lip smooches are his favorite. At the same time Mello doesn’t care where they kiss him because of solid fact he is being kissed.  

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He is so awkward. Calm/gentle/kind children are ok, but if he has to deal with angry little shit who throws tantrum whenever possible, he will flip out. Being around his own children is more or less bearable but don’t expect much when it’s someone else's kids annoying poor man. Mello definitely will teach his favorite one all of the swear words as a joke.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

On a free day no matter who wakes up first you will spend another hour in the bed cuddling. Then life will pour cold water on you when Mello gets frustrated with making breakfast. This may grow into small quarrel but most of the time he pulls himself together and you two find a satisfying compromise. During breakfast on work week you rarely hear any plans for the day from him but he stays curious about your schedule just to see if he can catch you for a lunch or a short call. Nothing special, really.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Night is his favorite time of the day. Neon signs, coolness, slight buzz of a big city work as a charm on Mello, he feels free from people’s staring, empty chatter, and daily duties. If he could show the world as he sees it to his loved one, at least approximate image, dim reflections of pale moon in the high-rises’ glass, he would. So to do it he takes them on late night walks and rides, new places every time.  

Cafes and restaurants are another of his weaknesses, not only pastry shops, but also small diners with food that would seem boring to many. Take-outs are frequent too because chilling under the lilac sky and stargazing with Mello are 10 out of 10.

Don't let yourself be fooled, he likes to stay inside as much. Thanks to Matt, you’ll spend most of the time playing video-games and drinking pop until one of you starts yawning.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Mello is straightforward within adequate limits. You wouldn’t expect person to blur out “I hunt a Kira with my genius rival that works with FBI and Japanese Police” at any point of your movie night anyway, right? He does not pretend and does not resort to excessive secrecy but prefers to reveal facts about himself one by one.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Quickly gets angry, quickly cools down. Sadly, he his emotions are too strong and he does not know how to handle them and it often ends in heated argument. Even during a quarrel he feels his actions are hurting you but it’s not something he can stop at the click of a finger. After everything has settled down he is extremely remorseful and tried to make amends but Mello never ever promises to change. Why you make ask? In that case actions speak louder than words.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers the stupidest things. He can’t remember any important dates like the day you started dating but will remind you about the most embarrassing thing you did in high school. Hell, he forgets your number sometimes but can describe the exact clothes you wore on that rainy day when car splashed you.

Unknown forces help Mello in choosing a birthday present. He has no clue what you wanted and if you wanted anything at all. Surprisingly, it always hits the mark.

Tried to write down “important” stuff about you once. Failed miserably. Decided to never do it again.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time when they confessed their love to him since Mello rewound this moment in his head like a hundred times. He remembers what color sky was and what song was playing on the background and those little details made this moment more beautiful than the masterpieces of the Louvre. Joy overwhelmed him and he couldn’t get this picture off his head for a few days too.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Not that paranoid protective and obviously doesn’t need to be protected However, he will be fluttered if person showed that they care. He will freak put if they don’t answer his calls or messages for hours and in the case of real danger he will take that gun and shoot someone as a warning.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts more effort in the beginning of relationship and its amount slowly declines with time. The closer he gets, the less he needs to try to cover up his sharp edges and imperfections or try to distract person with some kind of mask, mannerism, maneuver. Playing nice in early stages of dating gives him chance to throw the bait, to show he is able to be that datable material. A completely different question is whether a person wants to stay with him in spite of his inner demons.

Mello likes to surprise them with something special on anniversaries. Expect romantic late night motorcycle ride, car dates with take-out, and, of course, gifts. He likes to make/buy a presents person will like, something they wanted for a long time but couldn’t afford.

Acts extra-extra after anger tantrums. He knows he fucked up, okay, he just can’t control himself. Yes, it’s a lot easier to cover up consequences with huge bouquet and box of chocolates than to correct behavior learned over the years.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you ever had to deal with person stubborn as a donkey, you’ve seen demo-version of Mello’s behavior. Making compromises is not his strategy, so get ready for “this is the only right option”, “I said what I said”, “Yeah, go ahead, I’ll do it my way”. He immediately begins to sulk and spill his sassiness all over the place if things don’t go his way.

Doubtful impulsive decisions are most likely the cause of constant arguing and problem mentioned above. At first he does something (to say the least) stupid with impressive confidence. Then, after hours or days, his brains finally comes up with reasonable arguments but now it’s too late to back out.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It’s obvious Mello likes to take care of himself. His sense of style is indisputable, he sticks to it and never fails to embellish the picture with shiny jewelry or other accessories. There may be dirt on his leather boots and soot on fur hood but they only complete his conceived image.

Probably has one company from which he buys all the hair care products. Feeling of easy combing through smooth silky hair before bed is another of his a little happiness.

How does he have such perfect face despite eating chocolate everyday? Mello is fond of beauty creams, masks, serums, and he doesn’t allow a single pimple ruin his day. Also, he uses different healing creams to soften the scars.

He would love to mess around with loved one trying new beauty products. There’s nothing better than taking care of each other.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, yes, yes. It doesn’t matter why they are not in his life anymore, he feels devastated. All attempts to distract himself fail as he goes back to thinking about them every five-ten minutes, and not only thinking but overthinking. Sometimes his thoughts throw him back to the past, first meeting, first kiss, and it gnaws Mello even more.

If they left for some reason, he will try to get them back. A chance meeting in the evening is completely planned, he also rehearsed his lines in the head more than a thousand times just to stay calm and avoid going off on tangent.  

If they died, he will attend their grave for a few months. It doesn’t help much. He becomes incredulous and gloomy, scaring everyone around with frequent mood swings and defiant behavior. I can see him growing more actively aggressive and acting like he doesn’t have anything to lose too.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Because of his chocolate addiction, Mello has to visit dentist’s office quite frequently. The problem is he hates dentists and everything about them. The sound of a dental drill makes his skin crawl.

Mello can pull off any style, rock any outfit. He can dress up in trash bag and be fabulous as always. You can splash that man with the dirtiest water and he will still shine bright like a diamond. Unholy beauty.

He was that kid that got the highest score on Facebook picky sheet. He hates broccoli, never eats mushrooms, avoids pickles. Name any controversial food – he doesn’t eat it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Mello can deal with pushy people but manipulators drive him nuts. As soon as he notice the smallest attempt to manipulate him, he will lash out. So you have to be the master manipulator to twist him around your finger or the batshit crazy person to pull an obvious manipulation on him.

Absence of communication. He won’t play mind games and try to guess your thoughts, so you better speak out your mind.

Oh, Mello doesn’t want a person who nods to everything he says. Sharing personal opinions plays a big role in relationships and he won’t agree to lose such way to connect.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Mello sticks to adequate sleeping schedule. His lifestyle forces him to break it from time to time but he quickly makes up for sleepless nights. He doesn’t even get moody or irritated. On the contrary, his reactions slow down, and the only thing he is interested in is comfortable bed.

Speaking of comfort, Mello likes to wrap himself in fluffy blankets. The more pillows there are around him, the better his mood will be in the morning.

Dark chocolate rich in magnesium can help you sleep better so Mello prefers switch from milk chocolate to dark in the evening. It is not uncommon to find a wrapper foil on the nightstand in his bedroom.