#but for some reason it didn't really take root until now and it's being a major pain in the ass

[capricioussun]

I was thinking about designs and got torn on a specific trait for either Lace or Heartfell Papyrus and then my mind said "haha man what if you combined them, he'd be the most pink and heart covered skeleton in the world haha" and I have been trying to keep the thoughts at bay, but I'm growing weak to the thought of fusions between all my different guys...

[yuri-is-online]

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.

Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"

Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.

Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"

On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.

Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."

If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.

Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."

Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.

Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"

Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.

Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."

Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.

Malleus- "..."

Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?

Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"

Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.

Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"

Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.

Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."

You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?

[lyvhie]

do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍

desert island | zcl

boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚

cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.

honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.

the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.

arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.

you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.

it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.

during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.

you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.

"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.

"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.

following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.

"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.

"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.

"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”

for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”

"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”

chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.

he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.

"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”

even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.

you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.

“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”

your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.

“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.

you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.

chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.

“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.

“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.

a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.

your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.

this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.

as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.

"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.

chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.

with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.

he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.

you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.

“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.

“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.

he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.

he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.

“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”

before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.

chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.

"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.

"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."

[hhighkey]

Cry-Baby // Phinks, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: implied past kidnapping, emotional manipulation, possessive/overprotective tendencies, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, overly sensitive / easy to manipulate reader, phinks is not the good bf reader thinks he is, reader is unaware of the troupe until halfway, panic attacks, anger issues Note: around 13.2k words, ao3 link: xxx , this one shot is a big expansion off the smut headcanon I did awhile ago for Phinks. This has references to my Uvogin oneshot 'Taken' as his partner is the Reader from that (she's unnamed), and my Feitan one shot 'An Ode to...' is referenced slightly. On ao3 I have these one hits in a series for like a ‘phantom troupe universe’ so there's some overarching themes / connections going on. which reading the others aren't needed tho if u don't want!

It didn't take much, the TV channels with the abandoned dogs or a too sappy book, even your favorite ice cream being sold out. You'd be tearing up, lash line wet and moist as tears slowly dripped down. A tightening in your sensitive chest as you desperately tried to stop the looming cries that always found their way out. 

Since the day a tall muscular, handsome  blonde in a tracksuit walked into your life, everything changed. At first overwhelming joy over the man who memorized your coffee order, brought you tulips after you said you liked them in passing. Even your elderly next door neighbor adored him and she was a tough nut to crack.

You weren't sure when it changed. Six months of spending time together, careful glances as you saw how Phinks had immeasurable strength yet he'd blush at the smallest of things that came to you. 

So when did your life take a hard right turn? Had it really been the moment you meant Phinks, or was it when you told him about your new job opportunity with relocation? You remembered the panic on his chiseled features, how he ran his thick fingers through his combed blonde locks. How your back hit the wall as he stood over you, apologies spilling from his lips and then black. 

Intense grief over your past life and sudden lack of freedom contributed to the constant tears of your already sensitive state. Did you necessarily care that the man you loved was insanely protective, not allowing you to leave his home? And that your poor, soft head never once considered it to be kidnapping? Once dreaming of the day he asked you out but now he wanted you by his side forever? Phinks tried his best, he really did, leaving the room if a fight got intense, body language the epitome of a dangerous man when angry. Even as his fists clenched in anger because you refused something. Let you yell at him. Let you have your moments to starve yourself just to spite him. But the man knew how to woo- from your favorite music to shows, to learning to bake with you. His hot temper and possessive tendencies meant little when he babied and cared for you every turn. 

One day, you supposed you'd just snapped that your relationship with Phinks was more important than being able to have a phone or shop on your own. Or perhaps you gave into the feelings that were already there before he took you. You just stopped fighting the claws of doubt that nudged at your mind that kidnapping someone was not normal, that you can't be with him now. That meant little once you finally pressed your lips to his out of the blue and his tense muscled melted against you. Once you remembered a book you read in school, an intense look into the life of a woman who had intense Stockholm Syndrome and the psychology into it. You cried and cried over the book. Mourned for the fictional character, but somehow, in a messed up way you kept finding yourself rooting for their love. Maybe that was a big reason the author wrote it. You didn’t believe your love for Phinks was based on a psychological abuse based bond.

Phinks took you because he feared he’d lose you, he’d apologized for his mistakes. He never got violent towards you when business went bad or you’d not communicated in a way he needed while traveling. And that was good enough for you. 

Oh you could not wait for him to get home, he'd called the landline this morning to let you know he was on his way. You could jump for joy, heart racing with every growing excitement, fluttering nerves as you'd cleaned the townhome all morning. 

You glance to the timer, the minutes ticked down to when your garlic butter pull-away bread would be done- Phinks’s favorite. Growing up, your mother always emphasized the importance of a clean home, of cooking and preparing a meal for someone after a long day's work. You hoped she'd be impressed with the life you had with Phinks. 

'Alright,' you smiled to yourself as a faint alarm went off. Grabbing the oven mitts, you pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and placed it on the cooling rack. Oven now off you left the kitchen to change. 

It was almost time for Phinks to arrive home. You’re too impatient by that point, keep looking at the clock in your bedroom. The scent of him that lingered on the pillow you liked to hug close was no longer comforting in his place. With a smile you wanted to dress up better, so you made your way to the closet to pick a dress. 

"Babe?" The front door to your shared townhome slammed shut. Phinks's voice carried up the stairs even though you heard him going towards the kitchen most definitely smelling the fresh bread. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, a gentle smile as you smoothed down your dress. It was a new one Phinks had given you with a blush, saying he saw it and figured you'd look cute. And seeing him so embarrassed made you giddy, excited for him to see you in it. 

And of course you'd let him know you missed him the last few days he'd been gone on a business trip.

"Hey, coming down." You called out, making your way to the stairs. You saw his bag dropped at the door with shoes discarded, mentally making a note to straighten them up. 

"There you ar-" Phinks stopped mid sentence as his gaze lasered on you, he always hated having you out of his sight, made him nervous. His pupils went big as they traveled along every inch of skin, raking in the dress that fit your body perfectly, "Shit you look good." 

"Think so?" You blushed, nervous as you gave him a little spin.

"Know so." 

Phinks wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you into him. He breathed in your scent as he peppered kissed onto the top of your head. He relished in how you squeezed him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Missed you." You whined before giving him your best puppy eyes, "You aren't leaving anytime soon again right? Been gone a lot lately and I hate sleeping alone."

"Aw baby," Phinks cooed, "You're adorable. Hate being away from you, you know that right?" 

You nod, enthused and burning with want. Liquid heat spreads throughout your core as his hands slyly inch closer, "I know." It never took long for Phinks to get you undressed and pliant beneath him, completely at his mercy. The feeling of his warm body encapsulating yours was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his cologne. Light kisses fanned your hot skin as he reclaimed your lips for the nth time, meshing into a feathery pure want. 

It was those kisses, how you found yourself stripped, panties discarded and the top of your dress pulled down enough to free your breasts, the skirt hiked up. His fingers dig into your hips and you think you’ll have bruises for days from how his hips had thrusted into your cunt for the last hour. Sounds of slapping skin still reverberated in your ears as beads of sweat littered his skin, muscles always flexing with every movement. 

"Oh baby," Phinks cooed as he stroked your cheek, fingers pinching and squeezing your wet stained flesh. 

You were a mess. Shaking hips and messy hair, eyeliner smeared under the waterline. Phinks had made you cum more times than ever already since got back and started with his head between your legs. So poor little you was a babbling mess with clouded, lust filled thoughts. 

Phinks preferred you this way, well-behaved and hazy, gasping for breath underneath him with your calves resting on his biceps. You're so dazed you barely notice how his thumb flicks to your sensitive clit making your lower body spasm,

"Oh!" you gasp as you see stars. And it's all becoming too much. How hot your body is, how untamable a fire within you is as your hips buck and knots tighten in your abdomen. "Too much Phinks!! Can't-"

And that's when your tears fall. As if all cords and knots snapped at once your mind glittered with pleasure- too much pleasure that it was painful. So much so that you let out an honest to god sob as pools of wetness stain your flushed cheeks. Phinks hips stuttered for a second, coming to a halt as he watched you cry with love in his eyes. The way you were a goddess underneath him, how your face contorted and with hips giving him perfect friction.

"Oh fuck baby- that's hot, keep fucking crying for me." Phinks pressed into you more as he spoke low like a threat, cock pistoning against your cervix as he abused your clit, his thumb determined to stay put as you squirmed. Seeing the puddles fall from your eyes made him shake, a shiver running down his spine. 

And tears fell faster from his words alone as your abdomen burned. You barely recognize the whines leaving your lips through sniffles and cries, and snot begins to drip. Your poor wrists burn from the rope that tied them to the bed frame, the helplessness turning you on even more. 

Phinks face was inches away as he loomed over you, his pupils blown wide as he grinned past his canines. He found it so fascinating how the tears rolled down staining the sheets around your head. Fascinating that he could give you, his pretty little girl, such pleasure like rapture that you were weeping. Your breath fanning across his face with desperate whimpers from the deep of your throat sent him over the edge. Each intake of air was a job in itself, ragged breathing as you clawed at any of his skin you could grasp. 

"Phinks! M' too full- too much-"

Phinks just grunts. Braced himself over you as he suddenly left you empty, just the utmost tip of his long cock inside your gummy walls. A cocky smirk danced across his face and chiseled cheekbones, utterly obsessed with you, twisted feelings in his chest. Your dilated irises, fidgeting and thrashing figure from electricity that corrupted you- made him growl as tears continued to roll down your puffy cheeks. And how as he slammed his hips to yours- to the hilt- deeper- making a cry leave you as a bulge formed in the low plush of your abdomen- made the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. Liked how he could see himself in you- liked how as he pressed down on your tummy you shrieked and cried, begging him to stop as you came, feeling too full, too out of control. Squirt dribbled from your swollen hole as he wiped away at translucent liquid dripping down your face. Blank eyes. All empty on your fucked out face because of him. 

He fucked you through your nth orgasm, grunting and gasping as the squelching noises from your dripping, swollen cunt rang through the air. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Such a pretty baby crying while I fuck your tiny cunt. Gonna fill that greedy tight pussy, princess.”

You cried, nodding your head furiously begging him to cum inside you, as if you'd die if he didn't. 

"Yeah? Know you like it when I cum inside you- beg me- please- need to hear you." And just like that he fell apart. The side of Phinks only you ever got to see. So demanding, so rough, but just a lovesick fool for your crying form shoved full with his cock.

"Ah Phinks-" you were seeing stars, vision slowly going in and out as intense waves of pleasure took over you as your cunt squeezed the life from your lover's cock, "Love you Phinks—" you were babbling, rambling unable to speak straight, "I need you- inside me- m' my pussy needs you."

"Fuck." He grunted as his climax was raining down on him, "All mine, babe." Phinks saw white as he came, falling down on you as he shoved his face into your neck. His cock was to the hilt, shoved into your womb as you dry sobbed leaving deep nail marks on him. Your stomach expanding as his warm cum swarmed your insides, leaving you fuller than you'd been before. Gasping and hugging him close, legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn't leave you- not like he would. The way he nipped at your skin, sucking and nibbling along your collarbone and lower neck. How he ground his still hard and pulsing cock against your spasming walls that just sucked him in. 

His calloused hands soon came into contact with your face as he pushed up, adoringly staring down. He wiped away your loose tears earning him a tiny smile he so loved to see. 

"You always take me so well," and your chest soared as he kissed your forehead. You'd done well for him! His good girl! 

The tears soon dried completely as you'd find yourself in a warmed lathering bath- Phinks doting on your every move whilst unbeknownst to you, the faint sound of the news in the living room was talking about a specific criminal organization.

-

"Are you ready to finally meet Uvogin and his girl?"

You nodded ecstatically, "Yes, yes, so excited to meet her, no offense to Uvogin."

"Figured you would be, he won’t care he’s probably only comin’ for the food. Woulda loved to have you meet her a few months ago but her health was bad, Uvo wanted to make sure she was hundred percent before meeting new people. Some disease involving her lungs wasn't paying attention."

"I understand, that's scary." You hummed, kneading dough for its final stretching. Though you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's ability to relay information regarding others, "This needs another 45 minutes to sit and rise some more, then it can go in the oven."

"Which is my job right?"

"Yes don't want to burn myself." You purse your lips, "Feel like something's missing though."

"Like what?" Phinks wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't know, maybe an ingredient?" You looked about your organized mess before a lightbulb went off in your head, "Oh, the fruit, can you get the cantaloupe out and cut it into cubes?"

"Yes ma'am." He kissed your head again before going to cut the fruit.

Boy did Phinks make cooking an extensive meal easier (though at first it was substantially harder by his lack of knowledge or experience). He’d handle anything too hot, he was better with knives, and no longer did you have to mix until an arm cramped. You liked the cute overly focused look that'd crease his brows and pursed his lips as he focused on a task you gave him. It warmed your insides at how dutiful he was towards you, how he enjoyed your girly hobbies as he’d call them. 

Time went by too fast whenever you cooked, and it felt as if you never left yourself enough of it. You cut it too close for comfort, the food ready a minute before the sound of the doorbell went off. You’re in the middle of bringing dishes to the dining room table as two new voices meet your ears. Not able to stop the growing but, still nervous as you brushed along your pink apron.

“Babe,” Phinks voice called out, “C’mere.” 

You obeyed as if on cue, “Hi.” As you walked from the open kitching to where they stood in the foyer, Phinks hugged you to his side. 

“Uvo.” Said the largest man you’ve ever laid eyes on with a large grin. And Phinks is stifling laughter as you look Uvo up and down with parted lips, head cocked to the side. Even the girl besides Uvo attempts to hold amusement too.

Uvogin introduced her to you, his fiancé, which had been news to Phinks. And earned him a glare for not knowing his friend got engaged when they recently moved right next door. The audacity of men. 

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You said, politely pulling the large man's partner in for a hug. Everyone was small compared to Uvogin you thought, but this woman had an aura to her that pulled you in as if the giant didn't exist. Her smile was so warm and she smelled of fresh rose and pine. You note she’s frail, remembering what Phinks said about her health, and you loosen your arms on her. 

“So,” You rub your hands together motioning for people to follow, “People hungry enough to eat?”

“I’m fuckin’ famished.” Uvogin helped his way to where the food sat out at the table; Different vegetables, cantaloupe, roasted lamb and a cinnamon loaf. From the corner of your eye you see his fiance scolding him as he tried to grab a piece of meat, and for a moment you felt a surreal sense of belonging. To see them seeing so content together, you hoped that was how you and Phinks came across, since interactions with others were so limited. 

You gave the table a final look as the three of them sat down, needing one last thing you moved to the kitchen. The sound of cell phones going off is easily recognizable as you grab napkins and a serving spoon. Glancing across the island you see Phinks typing away at his phone. A chime went off and then another. You watched as Uvogin and Phinks looked semi-annoyed scowling at the screens, “Huh.” Uvo muttered as he wrapped an arm over the back of his fiance’s chair. “What’s normally on Channel 5?”

“What?” She asked him, sending you an annoyed look that read ‘Men’ as you placed napkins around the circular table. 

“Dunno. Y/N could you grab the remote since you’re up?” Phinks asks.

“Of course, one sec, the remote is over there.” You say, padding over to the loveseat on the other side of the room where Phinks was watching something earlier. 

Clicking the TV on you find it was already set to Channel 5, immediately fixated on the news, showing pictures of a gruesome crime scene. Turning the volume up, your stomach drops at the banner flashing on the screen in red ‘Phantom Troupe Strikes Again: 35 Dead, 12 Missing.’ 

“Oh my god,” You say with a gasp taking in the horrid sight, “That’s horrible.”

As you glance to where the other three stand, you immediately notice the discomfort. Uvogin and his fiance are staring dead at Phinks, while Phinks fingers flex at his side unblinking, directed at you.

“What?” 

“She doesn’t know?” Uvo’s fiance asked in a hushed voice, you barely hear it. 

“Know what?” You move forward, while she stares at you with wide eyes, immediately looking down at her plate.

“Oh- uh,” Phinks stammered as he quickly got up to make his way to you, “Just that news has been all over, she probably assumed you knew. Pretty scary.”

What you can see of her, Uvo’s partner didn’t have the ability to play it off. She seemed as if mentally transported elsewhere as she played with her fingers. 

“We’re gonna get going...” Uvogin says abruptly. He shot Phinks a look and it makes you want to scream, feeling as if left out of one big joke.

“Turn that shit off.” Phinks is at your side faster than you’ve ever seen him move. You jumped back in shock, flinching from the dark look on his face. You’re frozen at the sound of the remote shattering against the wall. 

It’s then that Uvogin is dragging his girl out with none of the food yet to be touched, but you catch her lips moving your way, you think she’s mouthing- ‘It’ll be fine.’ Not that it comforted you. The front door slammed. And then there were two. 

Tension that could be cut with a knife. You inch away from him, gaze flitting from the now black screen of the TV to Phinks. Something tells you his outburst has to do with the news, why he always told you your soft brain couldn’t handle it. That he just wanted to protect you from bad things that’d make you cry. 

“Phinks?” He doesn’t respond; fists clenched as he stares downwards. A bulging vein on his forehead tells you this is serious. “Tell me what's going on, why did they seem nervous? Why’d they leave so quickly? Did I do something wrong?” 

“Thought I told you not to watch the news.”

“It was on when I turned it on Phinks, you were the last one who used it.”

“Shit.” He had been. He didn’t flip the stupid fucking channel or bother to remember which channel numbers lined up with which station. 

“Please be honest, you and Uvo were having a conversation with your eyes! I feel like an idiot being left out of this. Why did she say ‘I didn’t know’ when I brought up the Phantom Troupe? And what you responded with doesn’t add up.”

“You’re gonna hurt your brain thinkin’ so hard babe. Let’s drop it.”

“You broke the remote by throwing it against the wall, Phinks.” You place your hands on your hip, frustration bubbling in your chest. “That was uncalled for especially in front of guests.”

“Fuck.” Phinks breathes heavy into his hands before pressing them against his forehead, “Fuck!” 

You step back, swallowing hard. His outburst has your brow lining in sweat, terror pulsing at the back of your mind.

“Phinks?” The watergates opened as fat tears fell down your cheeks, “Y-you’re scaring me.” 

You think he’ll comfort, explain it and take your fears away. But he doesn’t. 

“Y/N.” His eyes look as if they’re screaming for your forgiveness. Slowly, Phinks tugs off his sweatshirt. Suddenly you felt as if the room increased a hundred degrees, you’re too hot, feeling like you’ll choke from the dense air. Then he strips off his shirt, “You know how I keep this covered, told you it was an embarrassing scar?” You nod. “It’s a tattoo.” 

“Tattoo of what?” You whisper. 

You were never bothered by the fact he kept a bandage-like piece on his right shoulder blade. You assumed it was so personal that eventually he’d open up. Because you trusted him. 

But as his fingers peel it off, you catch sight of black ink. 

A black spider with a number 5 inked in the middle stares back. 

An incessant ringing blares in your ears. You’d heard of that tattoo, that it signifies the person is a spider, a fearsome thief of the underworld. A member of the Phantom Troupe. An urban legend your mom once told you about so you wouldn’t sneak out with a boy at 15, that you only recently learned was true. 

“You’re- when you leave for work… What is it you do again? And don’t say some business- Tell me.” You say between your dry heaves, your sobs as you furiously wipe away tears. 

“I’m a member of the Phantom Troupe babe, one of its founding members.”

Your head is spinning, legs wobble as you lose your balance. Phinks hurries to catch you as they give out, placing you on the couch, between your legs. But you push at his head and squirm back to get away. Shying into the couch cushions as you stare at him, eyes red. 

“I- Don’t play with me. Please tell me you aren’t in that group! You can’t be.” 

“Baby-”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit venom in your words as you rip your wrist from his grasp, holding it to your chest.

“Y/N this doesn’t change the fact I love you, doesn’t change anything here for us. Shouldn’t it prove to you that my vows to protect you are legitimate, that I’m strong enough to do so?”

“That’s your attempt to convince me?” It won’t stop, the downflow of tears and the running snot you wipe at. Your words turn to pathetic blubbering. "You.. kill people?"

Phinks nodded, huffing into his hands. The man is panicking, his chest tight with knots when all he wanted was to pull you into his arms. He considered forcing you down so he can explain, maybe fuck you so you feel good easily compliant. He needs you to give him a second, needs you to stop asking questions. 

"Uvogin? Is he a member? Feitan too?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Your world’s collapsing, you’re certain of it.

“D-Did he kidnap his fiancé too? Did Feitan kidnap his girlfriend as well?"

"Baby it's complicated, and well Feitan hasn't exactly made her his- Shit... Saying it like that sounds bad but-"

"It is bad! I-I forgot? I swore I was here because I realized there wasn't anything for me at home.. I loved you and.. Do you actually love me?" Your eyes welled with tears, sudden realization came back over you. You grieved for past life once, how did you forget that?

"Baby I do love you, you're safe with me, promise. It's me."

"You're a murderer." You emphasized, horrified and unable to push yourself against the wall anymore if you tried, "How many people had their lives ruined because of the Phantom Troupe?"

"I.. don't know. A lot."

Conflicting emotions wash over your fragile mind. The man who crouched a foot away from you looked as if his world was shattering down around him, like he was terrified to lose you. Yet he was a thief, a killer, and you realized he wouldn't let you walk out that door regardless of what you decided.

"You lied to me. I don't know who you are."

"Y/N fuck, it's me, promise nothing about who I am is a lie, only my occupation. I love you, I'd do anything for you." You flinched as he moved to sit in front of you on the edge of the couch, taking your face between his palms even as you flinch, "You're safe with me, I promise."

"Phinks..." You sniffled, "I.." At the end of all things, did that matter? What Phinks did for a living? He'd been nothing but a loving, supportive partner. The whiplash hurts. Your chest felt heavy, your breathing was too heavy as if your air was cut off. You think you’re going to pass out as you reach for him, eyes blinking furiously. 

"Baby? Shit." He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back in soothing circles, "Breathe for me, yeah? In. Out." You follow his orders, "Good girl, see?" 

One deep breath after another and you regained your senses, his eyes boring into you. 

"I need space tonight." You whimpered. 

"Yeah, that's fine, I know you need to think."

You rubbed your arms, "I'm going to lay down to sleep, alone tonight. If you could please clean up the kitchen and table."

"I-" Phinks went to argue, no way in hell would he let you sleep without him while he was home. But he knew he needed you to have time to think, even if it were an illusion or lie because he'd join once you were asleep. Paranoia was heavy in his mind, ever growing as he thought of her without him. Even not knowing what she was thinking was close to setting him over the edge. But he loosened his imaginary grip and nodded, "Of course."

Your home moved by you as if you were a zombie, legs heavy as lead as you closed the door to the master bedroom. Locking it. Then unlocking it. 

Sobs choked out. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Your legs gave out, back slid down against the door as your butt met the ground with a huff. Tears flooding once more, you let out a broken wail into your palms as you shoved your face into your flesh. Hugged your knees to your chest as painstaking agony pierced your limbs. You're gasping for air. Begging for a sense of relief. Crying that it hurts so bad. 

You could feel Phinks's aura on the other side of the door after fifteen minutes, knowing he was sitting with his back against the wood the same as you. An unknown force had you wanting to shove your fingers under the door to get a touch of him, wanting to already fling the door open and collapse into him. Were you really that pathetic? Already compartmentalizing the fact the man you loved was a killer? When Phinks had told you about his upbringing it'd pulled your heart strings, having to survive with no parents, no money, no home? How uncanny that his hints slowly made sense. Could you... even blame him?

Groaning through your heavy gasps as you couldn't stop weeping, you felt light headed. You sucked in air far too sharp that had you spinning, ready to topple onto your side.

With wobbly legs you force yourself to stand, clumsily making your way over to the king sized bed. Collapsing atop you stare off at the wall, wetness falling down to your eyes, to your mouth, dripping down your neck. Oh it hurts. How your head began to pulse with heavy stabs up against your temple. Lips quivered. You pulled the blankets tight letting your fingers twist and tangle within them, needing anything to ground you. 

Two questions spiraled. Would you really face the reality of your situation and that leaving a man like Phinks was smart? Or would you stay because you loved him? It alarmed you how easily you were willing to ignore Phinks was in the Phantom Troupe, that you'd already forgiven him. Forgive him? No, no, it wasn't you he needed to convince it was those he affected... which, deep down, you were glad he'd taken you. Because your kidnapping gave you a beautiful partner and life! Maybe you should tell him that! 

So as exhaustion and confusion overtook your trembling form, you were plunged into a restless sleep. One that played the same nightmare on repeat, the cycle of meeting Phinks to the kidnapping, to your life together, and to now. Stuck at a crossroads of swirling doubt manifesting in dark fog that would only come to fruition if you made a choice. Your dream-self, your heart, wanted to be selfish, wanted to head down the path to Phinks no matter what. While your brain told you it'd make you complacent, that it'd be ridiculous to stay with a man like him. That one day maybe you’d become a victim in the crosshairs. Before the morning sun streamed unto you forcing you awake, your dream-self chose a path. 

-

When you opened the bedroom door, stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies that made you want to puke- to your surprise Phinks fell back, woken and onto his feet in seconds. He'd fallen asleep against the door, respected your decision to sleep alone which tugged on the depths of your heart. 

Gazes locked and it was a battle of who'd speak first, though you hoped he'd leave the ball in your court. Phinks looked... scared? His eyes low, heavy bags beneath them. You desperately wanted to brush his messy hair back, to reprimand him not to sleep on hardwood! And you almost reached up but caught yourself, he glanced down to your hand.

"I.." You wonder how bad you look. Wonder how bloodshot your eyes are, how puffy your face is. And if he noticed, "Lets talk?"

Phinks grunted his answer. He wasn't always a man of many words, it took months for him to be more open, so you'd hate for him to shut down on you now. 

You followed him downstairs, taking your places on the couch, an awkward space in between how your bodies turned to face the other. Phinks wanted to scoop you up to take all your troubles away, wanted to pepper your face with kisses until you'd cry of laughter. Didn't like how far you felt, a foot feeling like a mile. Even being able to hold your hand would have helped the torrential storm that raged within him; fear so strong he thought he couldn't breathe last night until he passed out in front of the bedroom. Like losing a piece of him that only you could complete.

You'd made up your mind that morning. 

Staring at your fingers you tell yourself it would be okay, that you could tell him everything you wanted to get out.

“I have a lot to say.”

“Alright.” His voice sounds strained as he cracks his knuckles, never breaking eye-contact.

“You know, I’m still mad you kidnapped me and won’t let me have contact with anyone I used to know.” Phinks eyes became unreadable, his jaw tense, fingers flexing as if it was the only way to push his anger away. “I told you about my new job opportunity way back when because I wanted to see if you’d want to come, which now I know wouldn't have worked. But also to see if you’d ask me out and give me a reason to stay, I knew after you took me on that garden tour even though you were clearly uncomfortable, that I’d fallen for you. It’s weird after all this time I never told you that.” Seeing the tension that’d built within him start to evaporate, eased your churning stomach. He looks better, suddenly getting back color in his cheeks, chest inhaling a large breath.

You continue, “I think.. I think I had and continue to have a hard time because my heart knows I’ve always loved you, but my brain wants me to keep remembering you technically kidnapped me, and that’s a horrible thing for a partner to do. That even now you’re dangerous to an extent I may never understand since you’re a spider. That you could hurt me one day. I register the anger in your eyes on phone calls, I see how often you flex or crack your fingers to stay sane if I did something you didn’t agree with. There’s cameras in every room. You’d monitored my body for weeks to make sure I wasn't self harming or losing weight. Had to sit in on all my showers. I remember hearing Feitan quip at you that you’re a hot head. I saw Uvogin’s fiance’s fear towards the news.”

Tears prick at your lash line as you attempt to wipe them away, sending Phinks the slightest of smiles you could muster, “And I now know it’s because you're scared something will happen to me because you've seen horrible sides to our world. You are a piece of that horrible side, the Phantom Troupe… You and your friends are considered a giant threat. Anyone who’s capable of the things you all are, have to have something off in the head, I’m sorry to say it like that. So I understand you now more than ever. But you’re still my Phinks. You rub my back at nights, you put things on a high shelf so you can laugh at me as I try to get it only to swoop in. You watch those horrible holiday romance movies because I love them and you’ll never admit you do too.”

“What are you saying?” He asked hoarsely. 

“I hope you don't want me to leave, I love you.” You say bashfully, pink dusting your cheeks.

Phinks never planned to let you leave. None of the outcomes in his mind consisted of it. But there you sat with a cute, happy face telling him you want to stay and be with him, thinking he was going to let you go if you asked. So Phinks lets out a sigh of relief knowing he doesn’t need to become the bad guy, he can let you think he’d have given you the autonomy to leave. Because you knew he loved you regardless of everything and you never considered other more darker options. You’re a softy, so innocent and naive, someone who cries at anything, and this further proves to Phinks you need him. 

The last two years this very conversation weighed on him. Knowing the day you found out about the Troupe your loving relationship would come to an end, you’d hate him. And then when he’d have to inevitably chain you up or threaten to break your legs to keep you from going anywhere, you’d despise him and yourself. You’d be petrified of him. 

But none of that was going to happen and Phinks is thanking whatever God is up there with his entire doomed soul. 

“I never want you to leave.” Phinks was across the couch, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His warm lips meshing with your own in a desperate dance as if one would disappear. A whine from the back of your throat made his heart race, made him melt like lava, all consuming that he couldn't stand the emotion that warbled through him. Like he could burst with the emotion of a thousand suns yet it still wouldn’t be enough to describe what you did to him. 

Before the kiss gets too intense to the point of no return as you feel your thighs rub together in want, you push at his shoulders. You stroke his cheek as you study his face memorizing each inch shaped from the gods themselves to you.

"I want you to tell me everything, okay. No lies, I want your real childhood, real everything that you changed to leave out the Phantom Troupe. And don’t hide the tattoo anymore."

"I can do that." He nodded fervently, squeezing your waist, “I love you with all I got, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I do, I know.” You pull him in for a quick kiss, giggling as he attempts to deepen it, “Uh uh big guy. You have a lot of explaining to do before you get any of that.” 

He groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your neck, “I don’t know where to start babe.” 

“Well..” You think. “What do you… do? That’s not what I mean, so are you good with guns or something?”

“Ahh, I don’t think you understand Nen at all then if you’re askin’ that.”

“What’s Nen?” You cock your head, having zero idea what that three letter word meant. You hadn’t learned of it in school.

“Oh fuck me.” The mood he attempted to create to get your clothes off was ruined, but his genuine amusement makes him laugh, uncaring. He settled himself to get comfortable around your smaller frame, readying himself for a brutally open conversation with you. 

And as you two sat on the floor, Phinks relaying his story and the Phantom Troupes, you were glad you chose to stay even as you let him know you weren't happy every time he explained a heist. Because loving someone was the most important, at least you hoped that was enough. Because your heart couldn't fathom losing the blonde man who filled you, cared for you, protected you. You weren't sure if he'd survive losing you, or maybe it was the other way around. But you knew as he explained, that it didn’t matter at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not with the type of man he truly was with his work, dread consumed you, but you locked it away in the back of your mind.

-

MONTHS LATER

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

One hand was shoved over your mouth, the other held to the wall for dear life. Your heart was in your throat as you listened to the different sets of footsteps outside. They’re talking but it wasn’t loud enough to hear, as much as you strained to listen. God you hoped they’d leave soon, decide this place was abandoned and move to the next. 

The day started out like any other, waking up besides Phinks, having to convince him to start the day by luring him into the shower. 

He attempted to make your coffee while you made pancakes. 

Then Chrollo called and the way his face dropped, you knew something bad had happened. The basis of newfound trust between you two was a fine line, probably would be for awhile. But for once you felt secure as he told you head on, he couldn’t tell you what was happening, because the stress he projected was more than usual. 

“Babe, why don’t we go out? There’s a farmer’s market on the other side of town, can find cute shit or something.”

“Really? Let me find something nice to wear!” 

Phinks held your hand as if he’d lose you in the crowd at any second. Even as you told him he needed to let up or else you wouldn’t have a hand for him to hold if he kept cutting off circulation. While the sudden outing was pleasant, you’d found a few fresh ingredients for cooking you had to have, Phinks was off. Knowing it had to do with his earlier phone call, you brushed it off.

While you hadn’t been to the market in quite some time, it’d never been this busy. Crowds of people pushed through to see the stall uncaring as they bumped shoulders. The sun beat down and without a cool breeze it was uncomfortably hot, you were itching for reprieve, something cold to drink perhaps. 

Your eyes caught sight of an ice cream storefront past the main square, just far enough to where not many people gathered. Perfect. You tugged on Phinks arm, your fingers still locked with his. It takes him a second to notice as he’s too intent on watching the crowd. Eventually he cocks a brow your way, nodding as you motion to follow. 

You (foolishly) assumed Phinks had you in his sights, had a hand on your back or something. You lived in a rose colored world with your boyfriend where you never needed to worry, so your hand slipping from him wasn’t of your concern, he’d have a handle on things. 

Panic strikes you, you whirled around desperately trying to spot Phinks. But you’re too short stuck in a group and suddenly everything feels like it’s a skyscraper around you, closing in as the air feels too heavy to breathe in. 

But then, “Babe.” You jump, a gasp leaving you as you ready yourself to shove someone away. But staring down at you with hands on your shoulders was Phinks, “Fucking hell, scared me.” Pulled hard against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat as his comforting scent washes over you- and you’re okay again. 

“L-Lost you. Didn’t mean to.” You whimper as you stare at him, fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. His features soften due to your terrified state. 

“I know, come on, let's get somewhere with less people.” 

This time Phinks is more aware of you than ever before, not taking any chances. Hypervigilant on the tightness of your grip, any time it loosened slightly his tightened. And this was why you needed him, you, so uncaring of dangers walking around with your head in the clouds. It’s as you go to wriggle yourself free to weave a sharp right, he acts.

“You don’t fucking let go of my hand.” He hissed, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other wrapped around your neck, you whimper from how tight his hold is. 

“S-Sorry, got distracted, saw something-”

“I don’t care, in public you know the damn rules.” As your bottom lip trembles, Phinks does his best to shove down his sudden raw temper, “Just- what if you get hurt? Or someone takes a liking to ya? Tell me if you wanna go somewhere all of a sudden, I can’t read your mind.” You nod, his gentler tone building back up your mood as he lets go of your frail neck. Your neck that he’d be able to snap faster than you could blink. 

Ten minutes later and you were sitting happily at a table with ice cream, Phinks sitting beside you with an arm tucked across the back of the private booth. He watches you with a faint smile, still coming down from his heightened senses when he lost sight and feel of you. And how quick he’d lost control, especially over an innocent situation. He pushed back pieces of hair as they fell from your updo, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of your face down to your neck, then to the collarbone he desperately wanted to mark. 

“So,” Phinks said, “Remember when I told you what actually happened to Uvogin’s fiance? How she’d been kidnapped by Hunters while sick?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, spooning strawberry soft-serve into your mouth.

“Guess uh- her name and picture got put on the Hunter database, as a missing person in danger so to speak.” You quirk an eyebrow as the look he gives you tells you not to say the obvious that well… Uvo did kidnap her. “Shal found your name with hers, but they only had an old pic of you, from when you were 14, I guess. This shit complicates things, there was talk of a group, lead by someone who worked with those obnoxious ass Hunters, saying they have possible locations on ya.”

As if on cue your fingers tremble, color drained from your cheeks, forcing you to place your ice cream down with a sudden drop. “Huh?”

“Shal wiped all the chats, the pictures and info. But right now, I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Phinks I don’t understand.” You can hardly hear the former bustle of the shop around you. A numbing high pitched tone starts up and your throat’s suddenly so, so dry. 

“That’s what Chrollo called me about this morning.” He waved his hand as if motioning to the prior call. Veins peeking out from his shirt are tense, you realize quickly he’s trying to keep his mood together for your sake, “Wanted us to come out and do something nice before we gotta leave for a few weeks.”

Your appetite- gone. A sour taste wipes the sweet strawberry one you’d been enjoying. “I-I don’t want to leave. I-”

“We’ll be back. Uvo and some others gonna handle it, throw them for some loops. Probably..” He stopped, “Kill them.”

At that point you were certain you were going to throw up on the table then and there. As total honesty was a part of your lives since finding out Phinks was in the Troupe, you’d asked for a gentler version of any details regarding a job. Hearing him speak of taking lives in a nonchalant way, never sat right. 

“Where do we have to go?”

“Meeting Shal outside the city, he’ll take us to Base. It ain’t bad, Uvo and the missus go there a lot, stayed there after we rescued her, maybe once before too. Primarily where I lived before you.” 

“Okay, do we have time to get some stuff?” You mentally began to race through the things you’d need for an extended time away.

“See, we don’t, so wish I thought of that before we left.”

“I swear to-” Phinks’s poorly timed laughter cut you off, “Glad my soon to be suffering because I won’t have my favorite pajamas is funny.”

The rendezvous with Shalnark turned into a shitshow. That was how you found yourself hiding in a closet in an old apartment complex, the furthest away place you found cover as nen (what Phinks called it, you think at least) brought the area to destruction. You can still hear the storm outside, the thunder boomed shaking the walls, the patter of rain. It came out of nowhere, along with all the people and crashing bricks of the buildings. 

People you don’t know were looking for you now. Even if it was a member of the Troupe you hadn’t met before, you were certain they’d say so, while the strange voices only yelled thinly veiled threats. You’re trying so hard to listen in, to gauge where people are, if they’re leaving or staying. Or even if a fakeout would be attempted. Staying put might be your best option, but you’re not fit for these situations! No experience, no self defense skills, just a girl with a racing pulse that might pass out any moment. You were one more crackling thunder away from just giving up. 

You wanted Phinks. You needed him. Praying for him to find you and make everything better, whisk you away and pretend this didn’t happen. What would these Hunters do to you? Would they listen if you tried to explain? Phinks said it hadn’t mattered for Uvogin’s girlfriend when she tried, so you assume right then that it wouldn't for you. One plan out the window. 

“Y/N!” You flinch each time your name is said by a voice you don’t know. Your stomach lurched. You pressed your hand against your lips harder. 

“I checked all these rooms, we should check the other apartments in this complex before we move on.” Another voice said, and you know what he said was a lie. They hadn’t checked in here or else they’d have found you behind boxes in the small closet. 

“Fuck this chase is getting annoying. I say we split before running into a Troupe member.”

“Yeah.” A new voice added in sounding further, “Those fuckers are scary strong, the infamous Zoldyck assassins don’t even fuck with them.”

“The big one took out Bates's entire team for his girl. I don’t want to end up like them. Dead, missing basically, no bodies ever found.” Retreating steps made you perk up. 

“If Y/N were here she’d probably be running to us for help, she isn’t here.”

You don’t dare move a muscle, but it’s so hard. You’re weak, cramping, emotionally crumbling, and unable to think of a viable plan. Minutes pass by like hours, time they continue to search getting so close but not close enough. A creaking door in the distance then a slam. Grating noises that sound all around. Playing with your mind, making you doubt your senses. And it hurts. Blood pounding in your ears and you don’t know how your stress isn’t enough to give you away to trained Hunters. 

An eerie silence. The hairs on the back of your neck standing talls, a chill down your spine. 

So you wait.

And wait. 

You count up to 60, then back down to 1. Then you do it again. And again. Your body screams at you to relax, you’ve balled up in the same spot for god knows how long now. Time was irrelevant to your plight when you couldn’t see outside your hiding spot. Had no way to tell if the men actually packed up and moved on, the rain was too loud to hear car engines starting to rev off. The silence was beginning to morph as your brain seemed to make noises that kept your heart racing like you couldn’t lose your wits, and you wanted to scream. 

Phinks will find you- he had to. He’ll find you. You keep telling yourself that as nausea rises up your throat, you gag against your sweaty palm. Eyes squeezed shut as they moisten. Maybe this was the world punishing you for being selfish and choosing to stay with Phinks after finding out his real occupation six months ago. Karma’s way of saying you deserved to suffer, to understand even a fraction of what your boyfriend’s victims went through. 

Your hand dropped from your mouth. You brace your palms against the floor, knees burning from how long they’d had to hold you up. Carefully, slow as could be you changed your position to sit back against the closet wall still behind a cardboard moving box. This is comfier at least, less awkward for your shaking limbs. 

Your head lulls. No no no. You suck in a sharp breath. Blood pressure dropped. Adrenaline crashing. Black crept into the crevices of your vision, slowly invading as you try to stay awake, begging yourself to do so. But you can’t give yourself away, not even as you go limp falling to the ground on your side with a thump.

-

A man sat bound and gagged, blood seeping from his empty eye sockets, fingers bent in unnatural positions. Kneecaps lazily removed, the bones absentmindedly feet away. He was lax because he bled out an hour ago, a thick gash along where his intestines would be. 

The next man who watched his coworkers torture, whimpers as he watched a short black haired man pick up a pair of pliers. 

“Where is Y/N?” He asked in his soft, yet sinister voice. Feitan’s dark eyes struck terror into the Hunter, who started to flail against the ropes. 

“D-Don’t know! No-None of us found her!” He begged, “You gotta believe me!” 

“I do.” Feitan shrugged, “Tell me where others are.”

There’s conflict in the Hunter’s eyes, like he weighed his options.

“Won’t say.” He finally said, tone defeated, he practically physically deflates knowing he’d be dying in the abandoned warehouse whether he said locations or not.

Blood seeped into the cement floor, a single bulb illuminating the room as it crackled. 

Feitan heard the approaching footsteps when they’d entered the building itself minutes ago. He waits, feeling a familiar aura. 

Phinks takes the sharp turn into where Feitan set up camp, distress and unkempt written all over him. The normal cool and collected (until pissed off) spider with a ridiculous pharaoh hat, was struggling. His heartbeat hadn’t settled in hours and he’d chugged most of the coffee Paku showed up with two hours ago.

Their prisoner won’t answer questions. Not even as he screeches, fingernails ripped out one by one. Not as he convulsed from the pain, a disgusting snap of breaking bones, blood spurting on his face. 

Phinks can only see red. He wants him dead. Dead. Dead. “Where the fuck is she?” He gripped the man’s cheeks, letting his fingers dig into his jaw, popping then the crack, gargled moans following. “Gone all quiet now, huh?” A maniacal grin pulls at his lips, his teeth brace and over, and over- again- and again- more- his fists pummel against flesh and organs. It’s when the prisoner is nothing more than a lump of mushed flesh does Feitan pull him off. 

Feitan smirked, “Got it all out?”

His knuckles burn, but the pain is nothing compared to the excruciating terror that’d made its home inside him. All Phinks can imagine is you tied up being transported between hunters as they mindlessly care for you, while under the pretense of helping. They wouldn’t care for your tears or pleas to let you go. He’s imagining them doing to you what Bates did to Uvo’s girl. How when they rescued her she’d been drugged up for months, bruised, with poorly stitched up gashes, and health deteriorating she couldn’t stand to walk. Phinks saw first hand how Uvo never left her side for the week she’d been unconscious with IV’s sticking in her veins. 

The thought of that happening to you makes his head hurt, sharp pulsating behind his forehead. He presses his fingers into his temple, prodding along his eyebrows for any sort of reprieve. Twisting anxiety, dense uncertainty gnawed at him. 

“Need to stay calm.” Feitan said, “Almost hear your thoughts.”

Phinks lets out a weighty exhale, shooting his ‘friend’ a glare, “I don’t know if she’s okay. I’m- supposed to protect her. This is fuckin’ ridiculous, these fucking Hunters are imbeciles.” It was getting out of hand, now the second Troupe member to have a partner taken by the same group. To Phinks, this had to be a declaration of war. And as he peers at Feitan who seemed deep in thought, he can tell the torturer felt the same, who had someone of his own too, “Your girl can be next, Feitan.”

“I know. Stop speaking.” Feitan spat, fingers involuntarily twitching. 

“We should go find Shal.” 

-

The rain had stopped; was the first thing you noticed as you groggily pushed yourself up. The air inside the abandoned room was sweet with the aftertaste of a storm, yet it made your head spin. Gathering your bearings you stare at the closet door as if it mocked you, dared you to open it.

You weigh your chances here, assuming you’d fallen asleep for one hour or ten, no one found you. And who’d wait that long to lure you out with malicious intent?

Legs wobble as you stand, they feel filled with lead as you approach your exit. Hand shaking as it grabs the handle, the thudding of your mind almost painful. Twisting. Opening. The hinges didn’t creak and you’re now staring at an empty room. The same as when you entered. Shit. The window shows you it’s night now, not mid afternoon anymore. All the heavy dark clouds were gone leaving the dark sky clear and dazzling with stars. 

Hugging your arms taut around yourself for warmth, you know what you need to do. You need to be strong and begin to make your way out, see if you can get to a phone or find someone willing to take you into the city. That was risky but you were desperate. And with the amount of nooks and crannies of the dilapidated buildings that once were a vibrant living compound, there was always going to be oversight. Maybe getting outside would help Phinks and the other members find you. 

You're somehow at the bargaining stage of grief and you almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Trying to stay quiet as a mouse while imagining dozens of scenarios, when you probably needed to be on the lookout. With each hall you walk through, you strain your ears for signs of life. As your weight shifts on floorboards and steps, if they make a sound you're frozen as you wait. But nobody came each time. It’s safe.

The exit to the entire building is finally in sight. You begin a slow descent of the stairs, still doing your best to be diligent. 

But it’s the sudden rush of voices, that has you screeching to halt practically holding your breath. 

“Per GPS maps, these two complex buildings are all we have left.” That voice. You recognize its higher tone, like it held a cheery imposition even at the large task at hand. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Another familiar voice. Their feet crunched on the gravel outside. 

“Nobu said no sign of the cars that peeled out earlier, not sure whether they decided being alive was better or if it's because they have Y/N.” 

“Why can’t I just start screaming her name loud as possible? She’s gotta know it’s me.”

“Uvo she’s probably terrified and you’ll manage to burst her eardrums. You know your girl is safe at home while Phinks is losing it right now.”

Uvogin. Shalnark. Faking their voices would be too elaborate of a hoax for anyone.  

“He on his way over?”

“Him and Feitan, yes. Others are tracking the rogue vehicles.” 

Phinks was on his way. Your chest blossomed in joy, you could weep happy tears as your body felt a million times lighter. Relief coursed through your veins and you went back to going downstairs. 

But what you hadn’t realized in all this time was your body struggled from the temperature drop. Your teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. The sundress you’d adorned did nothing to protect you when you laid unconscious in the closet. Your lips tinted purple. Your face flushed from the chill. The tips of your fingers numb. But all you felt was the anxiousness, the hiked pulse, and your fears rather than worry about your physical state. 

Shalnark spots you first, your meek trembling form with reddened skin appearing through the doorway like a ghost. He’s on you as he strips his jacket to get it around your shoulders. He’s checking for injuries before you're scooped up into bulking arms of a giant who exuded heat. You can’t speak, only nodding as Shal throws questions your way. The surrounding area is blurry, you squint for any sign of Phinks. But you could barely see Uvo, who was the one carrying you as you looked up. 

A commanding presence makes you subconsciously relax.

“Shal what- Y/N- Thank fuck,” Phinks is out of breath, filled with desperation as he raced to you, his heart plummeting when he saw you all small in Uvogin’s arms. Like your whole world is back on its proper axis, you’re trying to reach for him but you only muster up a whine in recognition. 

Uvogin hands you to Phinks, who cradles you in his strong hold as they take off to the car sitting idle. His touch sets you aflame as you begin to tear up, babbling nonsense into the crook of his neck, now wet from your tears.. 

“I got you.” Phinks whispered in your ear as he studied your face whilst his hands felt every inch of you. Needed to feel every inch as reassurance. Your smile is loopy, your eyes so distant as you reach to stroke his cheek. “Safe now, okay?”

The sky moved by fast, but you’re not paying enough attention. Having to will your heavy eyelids to remain open, so you can continue to look at your boyfriend. Taking in his severe face that was littered with worry.

You’re tucked into Phinks’s body as he holds you so tight, murmuring sweet nothings as you try to engage. You try to appreciate his roaming hands as they stroke along your neck, squish your cheeks in comfort; and as a way to remind himself you’re okay, he has you. A piece of you isn’t even hearing his words, nor the conversations taking place amongst Troupe members in the car. 

You couldn’t stop shivering even as heat blasts from the vents and as different articles of clothing had been offered up to cover you. Or as Phinks tries to rub your bare arms to generate heat. 

“Babe you can sleep, s’okay.” Phinks said, and you realize his eyes are bloodshot. His heart still hammered against you and you physically feel the fear he had and now the relief that now swirled around him. 

“Are you- okay?” You ask, concerned for him. 

Your question clearly threw him off but he shakes his head, slightly amused you were thinking of him after everything you went through, “I’m good, I got you back. I don’t want to think about what could have happened, thought I was losing my mind trying to find you.”

“I ran, I didn’t know what to do.” You sniffled, shuddering as you remembered the chaos, “Ran up some stairs, found a closet and hid. I was so scared I thought I was going to die and eventually my body gave out. I woke up and it was night.”

His gaze softens, before he leans down to kiss your cool lips, lingering before moving to peck your forehead, “We’re heading to Base now and we’ll get you warmed up.”

You cling to the blonde as if you’d be swept away any second. In and out of sleep for the drive, uncertain of the day or time at this point. It’s with the glint of orange rays that you’re alert to sunrise as the car comes to a halt. 

“I can walk.” You try to say to Phinks but he’s having none of it, sweeping you up bridal style before your feet even had a chance to touch the ground after the car door opened. 

“Babe stop, no reason for you to exert yourself. You can rely on me.” His lips press to the top of your head, the sound of him inhaling your scent as a comfort makes you shiver. 

You weren’t sure what to expect in a Base for the spiders, but a sprawling warehouse that just peaked above the surface level was not it. It has large, empty and tattered looking windows, run down and well- maybe that was to be expected for a group of criminals. Phinks carries you to a path and makes his way down a set of stairs that descend down to a single rusted door. 

You’re not sure if you really understood a wink of Nen when Phinks explained it months ago, or when you’d ask him questions. You’re not sure if it's some form of magic as when you two enter, it’s like stepping into a portal. From the outside looking in it would be expected to see continued dilapidation; rotted furniture, mold, rodents, general disarray of buildings left for time to handle. Yet what you see as the entry door opens to a platform with a metal staircase going down, was a perfectly normal space. Decorative pillars and art (surely stolen) haphazardly on the walls, with rugs in peculiar places. A long table for 12 was the grand room centerpiece. And from Phinks’s arms you see multiple doorways that must branch off into other spaces of the hideout, for a second you forget this belonged to criminals as you wonder if he’d let you explore. But that reality goes out the window when Phinks sets you down in a chair and you catch sight of Feitan entering from outside. He’s covered in blood and you’re nauseous at the sight. 

You look away, attempting to focus on the tiled floor, counting the squares you can see. Your legs are covered in goosebumps and as you feel along your arms, they are too.

“I’ll be right back.” Phinks pats your head and you want to cry out for him not to walk away from you. Leaving you as a fish out of water in a new place, an intimidating place where his friend who’s covered in blood watches you from the corner. Bookshelves line empty spaces, which most of the shelves are in disarray but present collections look ancient. 

You think it’s been five, maybe seven minutes since Phinks left the room, but you’re becoming antsy. Anxiety claws at you as you want him near, want to touch him and see his face to know everything’s okay. 

“Hey,” When you look up, the familiar face of Uvogin’s fiance greets you. She stands there looking frail, adorned in jeans and a sweater, but giving you a warm smile. 

“Hey, how are you?” You stammer out, the sight of her making you more nervous than calm. She takes a seat across from you at the grand table. 

She shook her head, “I should be asking you that. You okay? You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m not physically, just… scared and now really cold.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh would you like my cardigan?” But you stop her by holding up your hands before she can touch a button, “If you’re sure.” 

You hadn’t seen her since the day you found out about Phinks being in the Phantom Troupe, even though she resided literally next door. You’d slowly learned that while Phinks allowed you the ability to go out, Uvogin did not allow it for her. At least he stopped, though you aren’t sure why. Health? 

“I’m sure, thanks.” You want to say it’s because she looks like she’d need the extra body heat, that she shouldn’t look so malnourished.

An awkward silence falls over you and her, only Feitan’s faint shuffling breaking it up. You’re curious, sometimes too much for your own good and there’s suddenly a million questions at the tip of your tongue but you wonder if you should ask. Phinks gives you leeway because you accepted him full-heartedly, you wonder if she despises Uvogin’s work or something along those lines. 

“Are you-” Her glower makes your mouth snap shut. And it’s when Feitan tells you two to behave with a cackle as he leaves, does she lean in. 

“Why didn’t you run?”

“What?” You ask. Your stomach flutters with something unknown. 

“This was the best chance you ever could have had- more than…” She sighs, “Since my health’s not getting any better, I feel more awake than I ever have before about- life..” 

You’re confused. Her eyes look glazed over, you chalk her whimsical mood up to her illness, “I don’t fully understand… Sorry.” 

“You know Feitan carved his name into a girl's ribcage? Keeps her locked up in his attic. And you know where she’ll probably be in a year? Sitting here with us acting like a good dutiful lover.”

“Stop.” Your mind races as your pulse begins to climb up. And up. Fingers go numb as a tingling spreads along your limbs, “That- I don’t have stockholm syndrome.” 

She shrugged, “I might have it, might not. You can’t truly know either.”

“I loved him before he took me.”

“Does he let you have free reign of a phone?” You shake your head for ‘no,’ “What about, can you talk to old family or friends.” You don’t answer. “Cameras in every room? Constantly panicked if he can’t see or hear from you within seconds?”

“Would you… Want a new life away from Uvo?” Whether it was fear or anger that caused you to ask it, the pounding of your heart made you snap her.

“No. I’m content, I don’t know how much longer I have anyways. He’s in denial about it.” She seemed morose at the thought of her death, like she didn’t care, like her current life wasn’t worth fighting for. Just sitting there waving her hand in a simple gesture, “I guess I selfishly, while I’m alive, want to see one of them suffer like they’ve made others suffer. Like if Phinks lost you today.” You squirm at her words, “I know Uvo may not recover when I die, so guess it’ll be karma enough for his actions.”

“Don’t you love him though?”

“Does it matter? I had a tiny crush on him before he took me, the big strong stranger that tried to make me laugh when he tried my creations at the bakery.” She pauses and the quirk of her lips doesn’t slip past you as she recounts a good memory, “But, it doesn’t mean I wanted to be taken away or that it was okay. He killed someone in front of me then re-routed my life. I can look at you right now and say I’m irrevocably in love with Uvo because I am, at least my heart and body completely are. My brain always wants to be around him until it reminds me of who he is. That only started after he rescued me from my second kidnappers, same ones who tried to nab you. It isn’t logical to love someone who does all that yet, I do? Weird psychological stuff but… That’s all I want to say Y/N, don’t forget who these men really are. They’re no better than the Hunters with hero complexes trying to drag us to ‘safety.’ None of it is for our best interest. Because if it were, then both parties have left us the hell alone.”

“Just… Who’s the lesser evil?” You whisper.

“Precisely, and after what I went through with those Hunters, it appears the Phantom Troupe is the better choice, for me at least.” 

You agree, cringing at the memories of the way the Hunters talked about you in the abandoned building while you hid. Nothing about them was kind or willing to lay their lives down to protect you. This was an ego boost for them, bragging rights to say they fooled the spiders. That taking you and her were like trophies to boast about.

Uvogin’s fiance suddenly stood up, her chair almost knocking completely back. She brushed her hands off along her jeans. Clearing her throat, she speaks to you one last time-

“Ah, sometimes I say such strange things when I don’t feel well, sorry about that.” She smiles like a flip switched before she heads towards an entryway, you guess it leads to wherever Uvogin is. 

You nod, “Of course.” But your eyes exchange something far deeper, more meaningful and you know you’ll keep her words private. An understanding that left you feeling comforted in an odd way. And yet a part of who hates her for dragging you out of your rose colored world. But she was right. Even as a sour taste scratches the back of your throat to admit such a thing.

An unsettling feeling settles itself in your stomach, you think if you have to sit at the table any longer you’ll go mad. Like a ball of twine was slowly unraveling, you want out of the room where you partook in such a strange conversation. And the fact you’re still cold, though your teeth stopped chattering during the car ride. 

Technically, Phinks never said to stay put so you aren’t doing anything wrong by trying to find him. Technically. He’d walked down the hall behind you so you figure you’d run into him eventually. 

Your legs ache with each step, painful stabs against the bottom of your feet as you begin the trek. It felt like a maze the second you left the main room, the only light present from lamps every few feet flush with the ceiling. ‘Spooky,’ You think to yourself, hugging your arms close. 

The first door you pass is shut firmly. No sense of what could be behind it. You linger for a few moments debating whether or not to knock, but the lack of light from underneath deterred you. 

Taking a sharp turn, you practically collide face first into what felt like a wall, but when you looked up– Phinks.

“Babe, what’ya doing?” You don’t have time to argue as he’s picking you up, “You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“Wanted to find you.” You pout. Though as you cradle the side of his face, the earlier conversation slowly replays at the back of your mind.

Phinks noticed the slight drop in your face but chalked it up to the long day you’d had, “I was coming to get you.” Nuzzling your face into his collarbone you take a deep breath, letting his touch center you. Being against him in your state, getting a smidge of his body heat had you on fire for him, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he started walking back the way he came. 

Exhaustion nudges its way back unto you, a yawn eliciting to show as much. You want to keep track of the path he takes, a right and then a left- then… You aren’t sure. The halls look the same but he eventually nudges an ajar door open. 

“Alright, here we are.”

The room was fairly big but rather plain. As Phinks sets you down on the bed, handing you a change of clothes, you realize- this was his room. Simple furniture scattered about but strewn magazines of things he was interested in forgotten on a coffee table. An alarm clock that matched the one at home that had a layer of dust on the nightstand. Some art, definitely random pieces he probably didn’t care to have.

“This is your room isn’t it?”

“Yep. Needed to clean up, dust coated fucking everything been months since I last stayed.”

“Why..?”

“If I’m ever beaten up after a job-” He explained, “I don’t want you to see that. But with you to go home to, there's no reason to be here. Wasn’t bad for the bachelor life.” 

It’s nice to learn something new in that respect, to see something that’s been a piece of his life first hand. Soreness screams through you as Phinks helps you undress to slip on the heavy sweats and hoodie. A mound of blankets pulled over you next, you cuddle happily into the new warmth that spreads over you, almost as if you’d never been in that abandoned closet. 

You wait for him as he changes, admiring the way his back muscles flexed, “You’re coming to bed, right?”

“What a dumb question, babe. Need to hold you after this fucking day.” 

“I want you to stay by my side.”

His weight sinks into the bed, and he repositions so you can slot yourself against him. God he loved how small, weak you were compared to him. His fragile little girl he needed to treat like glass when all he wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress. Having to hold his urges back for your sake was the right thing to do though. He can’t scare you after the day you’ve had while all he wants to do is relish in your body because the adrenaline high he’s coming down from fucking hurts. So close to losing you. So close to understanding the anger and sadness they put others through when the troupe kills their loved ones. It’s a strange sensation really, to even think about empathizing, but after the day you two have had, he doesn’t care. Just wants to hold you in his chest as your breathing slows. Wants to squeeze the plush of your skin to remind himself you’re his. His. No one else's. Not the Hunters who think they’re the saviors of the Phantom Troupe’s women. 

God he wished he could make all your thoughts of everything and everyone else but him go away. 

“I love you.” Your tired voice, sleep about to drag you under, makes him melt inside.

“I love you too.” He says back, since he knows he loves you in his own fucked up way. A way you probably wouldn’t understand, would probably be scared of, “I’ll keep you warm tonight, you’re safe.” Right now he knows what you need to hear. 

“I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

Good. It’s secured in Phinks’s mind that you never thought to run away from him having had the perfect chance to. Hours he couldn’t find you- you could have gotten back to town and jumped ship in that time. Yet you stayed in your little hiding place hoping for him to save you. You’re just so cute. And he’s lucky to have someone who relies on him so heavily. That made his chest burst with dark possessiveness over you. Not that there’s anyone left to take you from him. Every Hunter who’d been there was now dead, even the ones who left by car, with all that’s left to find the remaining stragglers involved with this effort. If more came out of the woodwork to take you after trying with Uvo’s girl, he’s sure there’ll be more eventually. 

He soon drifts off thinking of you in tears, sobbing for him as he splits you apart on his cock. Sobbing that he’s ‘too big’, that you’re ‘too full’, and begging for him to stop- but gods he won’t stop not when you’re broken like that with big red eyes and wet skin from the pleasure turning to pain. And he won’t stop, never does, until you’ve gone dumb in the head drunk off his cock and filled with his come like you need it to breathe. And Phinks knows as his consciousness slips away, that his little daydream will become reality come morning time because he’s not a good man. Because a good man wouldn’t fuck his girl to break her poor little mind, to make her fall apart into tiny pieces so he could be the one to put her back together again. To get her nice and reliant. Especially not after a traumatic event. But you should know by now that he’s not good.

[tower-arcana]

Can you make a Dan Heng x sick reader who would always run around the Express and sometimes comes to Dan Heng's room just to annoy him when they don't have anything to do, but one day, Dan Heng noticed there were no signs of them anywhere so he went to their room, only to find out that they're sick and bedridden? When Dan Heng knocks on the door at first, there weren't any reply so he decided to enter quietly, and found reader sleeping on their bed comfortably, groaning and panting because of their fever. Dan Heng checked their temperature by placing a hand on their forehead before leaving to prepare warm water and a cloth to place on their forehead (to reduce the fever) and decided to wait until reader wakes up. (While waiting, Dan Heng is groaning and complaining to himself on why reader didn't ask for help when they're sick) Later, when reader wakes up, they will see a hot soup and water beside them, and a worried Dan Heng (he decided to make food for them while they're asleep) Sorry it's long!

a/n: tysm for being my first requester!! and don't apologize at all about the length, i think this is a really cute prompt and i'm always a sucker for sickfics! i hope you enjoy my take on this prompt ^^

Under the Weather.

dan heng x sick / nameless reader!

word count: 1646!

. . .

Dan Heng had always known you as… well, a busybody in a way. You were bright and full of energy, always running from some place to other, whether it be doing errands or making mischief was a question he’d learned not to ask. Yes, at times it could be a bit hard to keep up with, but you were just full of life, and that was something he could never fault you for. Perhaps it had even grown on him, as well.

Well, it was hard for it not to become something he’d grown accustomed to, with how often you visited his room within the archives in particular. Perhaps you’d noticed how easy it was for Dan Heng to hole himself up in there and made it your mission to bring a bit of your sunshine to him each day — or maybe you were simply nosey, that could be it, too.

Regardless of the reasoning, you made it a point to barge into Dan Heng’s space often, and by this point he’d stopped feeling exasperated about it. In truth, he even expected it, maybe even looked forward to it, though he’d surely have a hard time admitting that. Out of all of the Nameless he spent his time with on the Astral Express, he was sure he’d seen you day by day the most.

So when that bountiful noise of yours simply stopped reaching his ears, it was only natural for Dan Heng to notice. You hadn’t visited him at all that day, nor had he seen you outside of his room when he’d ventured out… was it wrong for him to be worried? Even if it was, the nagging concern refused to go away, and eventually he made up his mind to investigate.

Dan Heng had talked to March, who despite her usual air-headed behavior should’ve definitely known where you were given how often the two of you bounced off of each other, but even with her he’d come up empty handed. The Trailblazer hadn’t seen you that day either, and that worry that had taken root now twisted inside of his chest to the beginnings of panic.

Despite how often you visited his own room, Dan Heng had never entered yours all that often — but desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed. He’d quickly approached your personal quarters within the Astral Express, and had knocked once or twice, hoping that he’d hear you call out some silly excuse or another. Still, he heard nothing, and Dan Heng’s frown only deepened.

Pushing aside all his notions of respecting others’ boundaries and privacy like you often chose not to do, Dan Heng tried the handle on your room’s door, to which he of course found to be unlocked. He doesn’t know why he expected anything else… he really should talk to you about that later, safety was important, after all.

That was a conversation for another time, though, and as quietly as possible, Dan Heng pushed open the door and slipped inside, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of your quarters. It took him a moment to even recognize the curled up pile of blankets on the bed to even be you, but once he did, his heart sank. Something had to be wrong, something in the back of his mind told him that he couldn’t just confirm you were here and then leave. He had to make sure you were truthfully alright, which at this point didn’t seem to be the case.

Dan Heng didn’t have to try very hard to be silent to avoid waking you, as your sleep, however restless, seemed to be a deep sleep all the same. Once Dan Heng got close enough to brush back the blanket and get a good look at your face, it then became clear what was the true issue here.

Your face was red with a feverish flush, bangs plastered to your forehead from a sickly sweat, and the discomfort was evident in your expression: you were sick, and you hadn’t even told anyone about it.

Reasonably, Dan Heng knew he shouldn’t be too upset with you — you were likely unable to even think clearly if you had been able to wake up in the first place. Even so, his frustration directed towards himself and the way he’d been so late to check in on you bubbled up and made him just a bit aggravated with you as well.

Those feelings meant nothing at the moment, though; he could scold you for your foolishness later. For now, he needed to make sure you were as comfortable and as well taken care of as possible now that he was here.

Dan Heng pressed a gentle hand to your forehead at first to gauge just how bad your fever really was, and quickly winced at just how scorching your skin felt to the touch. With a sigh, he reluctantly left your side to fetch a cold cloth and water to give you once you did wake up, as he could only guess just how dehydrated you were by now. On his run, he briefly informed Himeko about your condition, though he assured her he’d take care of you for now.

It didn’t take long for Dan Heng to return with the aforementioned supplies, though you were still deep in a fitful slumber even by the time he got back. He did his best to push down the worry that stabbed at his heart and instead focused on carefully laying the cool cloth on your forehead, taking just a moment to gaze at your sleeping face once more. It was upsetting to see your usual bright smile dimmed like this, and it was only then Dan Heng realized just how much he missed that radiant grin already.

With a soft sigh, Dan Heng resigned himself to keeping watch over you while you slept; he didn’t want to be away from your side if your condition worsened anytime soon, and even if it didn’t, he had a few choice words to say to you once you did wake up…

. . .

The last thing you’d remembered before passing out the night before was feeling absolutely exhausted, uncharacteristically so. You weren’t anywhere near dense enough not to realize that you were feeling a bit under the weather by the time you curled up in your bed, but you hadn’t truly realized just how bad it would become.

You’d assured yourself it was just a cold that would pass by the morning, nothing to worry anyone over — especially not Dan Heng, who you knew was definitely the type to make a big deal over such a small thing.

Except it wasn’t just a small thing, unfortunately for you. You were sick, sick sick, and you were so down for the count that the next time you really were conscious and aware of your surroundings was late into the evening of the next day. With bleary eyes, you finally came to and attempted to roll over to check your beside clock, though you quickly became aware of a cold towel nearly flopping over your eyes from the sudden movement.

“Huh…?” Voice still hoarse from sleep, you went to remove the towel, only for another hand to adjust its position back to where it had been before on the crown of your temple. It took you a moment to really recognize who it was, but once you did, you would’ve blanched if you weren’t already pale enough — Dan Heng was currently looking at you with the most disapproving expression you’d seen him give anyone, and you knew you were in for it.

At least, that’s what you’d thought, but as your eyes met his, Dan Heng’s softened considerably with something you were surprised to see was relief. “You’re finally awake. Your fever’s gone down at least from when I first found you like this, I’m hoping you’ll be somewhat stable by tomorrow afternoon.”

“...That bad, huh?” A sheepish chuckle left your lips as you felt another wave of embarrassment hit you; it was pretty unbecoming of a Nameless to be knocked off their feet so easily like this, huh? You tried to sit up and regain some semblance of being fine, but Dan Heng was quick to catch you in the act and guide you back onto the bed with a disapproving frown.

“Yes, that bad. Don’t overexert yourself, it’ll only make things take longer to blow over,” Dan Heng reprimanded you with a shake of his head, though he did allow his shoulders to relax from their previously stiff posture in the next moment. He couldn’t read your mind, of course, but he could imagine how someone like you would be frustrated at being kept down like this.

All of Dan Heng’s initial irritation had long since dissipated, and he pushed the now lukewarm towel back off your forehead to instead replace it with his surprisingly cool hands. His expression was almost tender… and something about the care in his actions made your face heat up all over again.

“You’re not a burden in the slightest, in case you’re worrying about such things. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends take care of each other when its called for, and nothing less,” Dan Heng lingered for a moment longer, seeming to contemplate something, before suddenly he leaned in and pressed his lips against your temple in a gesture that would’ve had you bouncing off the walls if you weren’t in your current state. “Get some rest and feel better soon; I’ll get you a new towel, call me if you need anything.”

You were left shell-shocked in your bed as Dan Heng stood up once more, and he offered you one last smile before exiting your room. Had that really just happened…?

You really hoped Dan Heng didn’t get sick from that.

[hedgehog-moss]

I was woken up last night by a sound like a machine gun being fired... loud clak-clak-clak that went on for like 10 seconds and I sat in bed completely bewildered because my brain couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for it. Then I remembered about the thunderstorm warning and thought oh shit, the greenhouse. It could possibly be the sound of thick glass cracking and breaking after a branch fell on it...?

I ran outside in my pyjamas and found the greenhouse intact—then thought oh shit, the chicken coop. Had no idea how a chicken coop could produce such a noise but I ran there anyway, and the coop was fine. It was a dry storm, lots and lots of wind but no rain or hail and I stood there uselessly for a moment, trying to think of other explanations with my 3am brain (not easy), then went to check on the llamas just in case, and I found all three of them standing with very alert ears, staring at a fallen tree—one of the four very tall wild cherries in their pasture.

So that was a relief ! From where I was I couldn't see if the tree had crashed on the fence and destroyed a chunk of it, it seemed possible but I decided that was a problem for tomorrow-me, and in any case it could have been worse. The fact that Pampe was still here boded well (for the integrity of the fence)—but seeing as the llamas were lined up in front of the tree like mourners paying their respects at a funeral, maybe she just felt that taking advantage of the tree's misfortune to immediately escape via the opening created by its prostrate body would be inappropriate.

First thing I saw this morning when I opened my bedroom window was the fallen tree, and I started feeling less optimistic because from afar things really didn't look promising for my poor fence.

(And from up close either)

But the tree missed the fence by just a few metres!

Its branches were tangled up with the other trees' branches and I think some of them slowed its fall until they broke one by one, which would explain the prolonged cracking noises, it wasn't just the trunk. But only 1 branch fell on the fence and it wasn't a large one, so there's no damage!

The God of Fences was on my side last night. :)

Consulted on whether he had been frightened by that loud sinister noise in the middle of the night, Pirlouit declined to comment, as he has more tragic problems right now. Our neighbour made hay recently which means Pirou now has several tonnes of hay staring at him and taunting him just outside his pen, out of reach. He is in a bad mood for reasons that have nothing to do with a stupid tree. It's like if you had to live right outside a pastry shop's window, except worse because you're a donkey (they already find life unfair as it is.)

I wonder if the wild cherry tree will soldier on...? Its roots + part of the trunk are still intact, and there are fallen trees in the forest with only 1 toe still in the ground who take their fate pretty philosophically and just start growing perpendicularly, like okay I guess we're sending our branches in that direction now. I'm going to leave it here and see if it rallies. I think it actually looks pretty breezy right now, it kind of looks like this:

Good luck, wild cherry! Let's see if you still have some life in you...

Oh and since we had a new obstacle, I tried to check if Pandolf remembered the word "Saute !" (Jump) and he does! We did it a bunch of times because I was trying to make him understand that I wanted 1 majestic jump and not his lazy 2-steps solution, but I didn't manage to explain it.

Maybe if I said "no :/" instead of "good great what a dog!!" he would think harder about how to improve his technique, but I'd rather fluff up his ego. Even that ridiculous failure at the end was met with a "yes amazing!!" response from me and he felt like an agility champion instead of a bumbling bag of fur. I'm going to try and get him to find his balance and walk on this part of the trunk, so I expect to see a lot more of his "argh, oops, wait" facial expression :)

[cy-cyborg]

I'm getting a little tierd of the idea because amputees get more representation in media, it means rep for our disability is better and we "have enough"

People are right, we do have way more rep than really any other disability, im not going to deny that, and ive joked before about how often people write amputees without even realising it. So you would think, by sheer numbers, we should have at least some good representation, but by-and-large that is not the case. Legitimatly, the closest example I can think of to point to of good amputee rep is Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and even that uses multiple tropes I hate (the miracle cure/quest for the miracle cure, the almost perfect prosthetic replacement/forgetting the chatacter is an amputee until it breaks or needs repairs, refusal to call prosthetics, "prosthetics" (automail), the amputee who can't do anything without a prosthetic) and they call Ed a slur for another disability (m*dget) CONSTANTLY. I love fmab deeply, it legitimatly helped me feel seen and represented as a childhood amputee in a way no other show has even come close to, and when it gets it right, it gets it really right, but it's also very far from great and should not be the best example I can think of. Especially nearly 15 years after it released...

A big part of the reason why I don't read many books anymore is because of the sheer amount of books with downright offensively bad amputee rep, some of which were touted as good by people with other disabilities and were recommended to me as good examples. others times, I wasn't even looking for books with amputee/disability rep, it just popped up. It has ruined one of my childhood hobbies for me. Ive tried to get back into reading again as an adult but it hasn't gotten better in that time i was away. I was kicked out of 3 different scifi writing groups on facebook and reddit for asking people to remember "cybernetic enhancement" users are amputees - a real group of people, and maybe debating weather or not we're less human isnt great, and for pointing out seeing those discussions every day was making me feel pretty unwelcome in that space (yes i know, "real" cyberpunk isnt trying to say that, i had to turn notifications off on my post about the topic, it doesnt change the fact that newer creators in the genre dont seem to get that bit, that ive seen cyberpunk writers in these spaces say that debating weather people who loose more parts of their body were less human was, in fact, their intent but they hadnt even considered the fact this made their chatacters amputees, it doesnt change the fact that these tropes, intentionally or not, help make those spaces hostile for disabled fans/creators, especially amputees).

But yeah, I should be thankful I get more rep than other disabilities, no matter the quality, right?

It doesn't just stop at being me being made uncomfortable, though. The sheer, overwhelming amount of amputee chatacters with "perfect prosthetics" has had a noticeable impact on how we are perceived irl. In my lifetime, the general idea people have about multi-limbed amputees in particular has gone from "literally the worst thing that can happen to a person and the worst disability to have" to "is it even a disability? The prosthetic fixes it". These are both wildly untrue and harmful ideas about my disability that were both perpetuated by media, but now that the second one is taking root, it's causing real problems. I have not been shy in talking about how I have to fight to maintain my NDIS funding every time I get something done with my prosthetics, and had to get my prosthetist to sign off, twice, that my fancy prosthetic knee that costs the same as a higher-end new car ($125,000 AUD) is not, in fact a cure and I still need help with other things. It took me nearly 2 years to get a new wheelchair because they didn't understand why I needed it if I had the prosthetics - which to be honest, is not comfortable for me to wear, let alone use all day every day. Guys this isn't just assholes on the street or on twitter saying dumb shit, it's the people in the government body who decide how much funding I get to help with my disability who beleive it. People who have very real control over my life. It's not entirely the media's fault, but when the sheer, overwhelming majority of representation for people like me confirms that belief, it's hard to ignore the possibility that these portrayals are contributing to it, you know?

Which makes it so frustrating when I come on here and see other disability writing advice blogs saying to not write amputees because they have so much representation already. We do, I can acknowledge that, but the vast, vast majority of it is shit, and no one, not even other disabled people, are listening to us about it. And what makes it even worse, is the people they're advising to not writing amputees are the creators who care enough to be doing the research. They're the ones willing to listen, to ask questions. They could be the start of the positive change. But instead they're advised to not even bother with us.

And don't get me wrong, other disabilities ARE under-represented. There are so many disabilities, including some I have myself, that I've never seen represented as anything other than the butt of a joke. There does need to be more reprentation of disabilities other than amputation and limb differences. 100%! but can you please talk about that without saying "amputees have enough"

This isn't even touching on how amputees/people with limb differences who dont/cant use prosthetics, or even folks who use prosthetics sometimes but not others, are almost never represented unless it's for pitty-porn, or how the non-fictional media's (news outlets, etc) portrayal of amputees in particular is used to justify hurting very real, very vunderable people but this rant is long enough and honestly, ive got enough thoughts to make whole other posts on those subjects. That second one in particular deserves its own (more thought-out) spotlight and shouldn't be a footnote in a frustrated rant post lol.

[ellecdc]

Dude, I don't know why I am asking this. But do you think poly moonwater will choose to be child free? I do think so. I mean, regulus past story and remus fury problem, I don't think they'll want kids at all

But if reader accidentally gets pregnant. Do you think they gonna keep their distance an arm lenght? I mean, I remember in the book remus trying to leave nymphadora who's pregnant at that moment (or is it after she gave birth? Can't really remember) by trying to help Harry looking for the idk the name of it, voldemort collections?

oooouuuu this is a fun question! thanks for asking; and I think that happened before teddy lupin was born and they were searching for Voldemort's horcruxes! - also, in regards to canon, I think the reason remus felt willing to take off was because he truly was sort of all alone: no parents, no siblings, no family, no friends. Plus society constantly shitting on him, plus there being a war etc etc, he felt very desperate and didn't feel like he could handle being responsible for nymphadora and a child

But of course since WE DON'T LIVE IN A WOLD WITH VOLDEMORT OVER HERE 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I think this is a valid question

(my answer is going to be SFW until the page break below - I will put warnings ahead of time for minors)

My answer would be yes, I agree that Regulus and Remus would perhaps wish to be childfree. Like you said, Remus feels like society views him as a stain and he wouldn't want to pass that legacy onto a child (biologically his or not), and he also wouldn't want to put a child through the pain of seeing their father suffer through every lunar cycle. Regulus had a horrific childhood and would be very scared to be anything like his mother or father, and I kind of see him as this guy who really doesn't know what to do with kids...he never had a childhood really, and never was around other kids until he was at Hogwarts, and by then he was right traumatized soooo yes I agree, he would be worried about having children.

As for our darling reader finding out she was pregnant? I have some thoughts on that.

I think Regulus has a deep rooted sense of duty and loyalty to his people, and ultimately, Remus and reader would be his people. Even if he hated the idea of reader being pregnant/having his child, I think he would shove that down so deep and just completely take on this role he never really wanted but hey, he's here now and he's going to do what he has to do. It was why he ended up in Slytherin (duty/loyalty to his family), and it was why he took the dark mark (duty/loyalty to his family). He took the mark because he believed that to be his role, his job in life - and if reader ended up pregnant, well, that was his duty then.

I think Remus would be a wild card. Remus never had a proper childhood either; he had to grow up really fast as he was bitten at only 4 years old. This means for as long as he can remember, he's been a werewolf. He didn't get to attend school (due to injuries/pains, scars, unexplained absences etc), he never had siblings, and he couldn't play with the village kids. So not only does he not necessarily know what to do with kids, I think he'd still have some of those "the kid would be better off without me, I can't curse another life to me and my lycanthropy) BUT I think he'd have been around Harry and loved that kid so damn much, and he'd have his friends and loved ones to help him come to terms with it.

This could be a cute fic request.

now.....as for the NSFW stuff (18+, minors don't look down here)

I have this headcanon that pureblood's have a breeding kink....they were literally bred, born, and raised to carry on the bloodline and produce heirs - so I don't think Regulus was fucking innocent in that conception LOL he would have been very excited thinking about spilling inside of reader and getting her knocked up.

in a similar vein, I also believe that there is a primal side of Remus with his lycanthropy which would ALSO support a breeding kink - truly fucks like an animal tbh and gets so turned on at the thought of filling reader up

okay sorry for being a dirty horn dog thanks byeeeee

[absurd-ash]

Hi there about a headshot or one shot with Macaque and his s/o get into some argument over something resulting him saying something very mean to the reader. But could their some how be a fluff and comfort at the end where the two make up please? 💖

Heated Argument

{Macaque x GnReader}

You two would almost never get into arguments, and on the rare occasion that you two did get into fights, they would always be small, petty, couple arguments

Thats why you always found it odd when at some times Macaque seemed so frustrated with you

Little did you know, he was not in fact, frustrated with you, no, never you

He was always just frustrated at things that bothered him a certain day, most of the time it was Wukong, but sometimes his frustration could even be directed at life in general

But no, he was never frustrated with you, at least to the point he would yell or get in a fight with you

Well...on purpose that is

You would most likely be trying to make him relax, to distract him from whatever was making him so upset

As much as you wanted to help, Macaque wasn't having any of it

Giving you short and stern answers, not being vocal when you talk to him, just ignoring you completely

Whether you knew it or not, Macaque did this so he didnt lash out at you, it wasn't your fault he was so upset and frustrated, so he tried his best to be silent in his own little, angry, upset, world

Although, it didn't always work

whether it be that you were being too pushy, him forgetting to do what he usually does, him being less patient then usual, there was always a chance that he would take his frustration out on you verbally

he wouldn't be thinking about his words as he lashed out at you, if anything, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time

"Macaque, tell me what's wrong! I want to help!"

"My god Y/n, can't you see that nows not the time? Jeez, sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve someone as clingy as you!"

You flinched at that, not expecting the sudden outburst

You would look to the ground as you mutter a small apology and start heading to your bedroom to give Macaque space

It wasn't until Macaque heard your bedroom door shut when he had realized what he had said to you

He immediately started to panic, bringing his hands up to the roots of his hair and pulling at them

He didnt mean what he said, he would never mean it, but you didnt know that, for all you knew, he had truly meant what he said, that he thought he deserved someone better than you

If anything, reality was the exact opposite, Macaque thought you deserved better, that he wasn't enough for you, and sometimes, those thoughts kept him up at night

He started to pace across the living room that he was currently in, still tugging at his hair, thinking about ways to apologize to you

He would then decide that just outright apologizing would be the best way and he then headed towards your bedroom door

He winced as his six ears matched up on your mutters that you were whispering to yourself about how "Stupid" you were for not giving Macaque his space....did you really think you were stupid?

He winced at the implications of that, that he was the one to make you feel stupid

He shook away those thoughts and then knocked on your bedroom door

"Plum? Can I come in?" He muttered, his voice soft

You muttered a small "sure" so quiet, that any other person wouldn't be able to hear it, but he's the six eared Macaque for a reason

He lightly swung open the door to see you on your bed, staring up at the ceiling

"Look- Plum...I'm sorry-" He began, but before he could continue, you broke him off

"You don't need to apologize, it was my fault..." You say, looking at the ground in shame

...You didn't actually think that...did you?

"What?! No! It isn't your fault, it'll never be your fault. It was mine I was-" You cut him off before he could continue

"What?! No way, it was all my fault! I should have noticed you were so tense- but I was so stupid and-"

This time, you were cut off by Macaque. But instead of speaking he only walked close to you and leaned down so his eyes could look into yours

He brought his hands up and cupped your cheeks making you look at him

"Plum, look at me. You are not stupid. It wasn't your fault. ...and if anything I dont deserve you..."

Hearing those words you start to smile until he says the last bit your smile turns into a frown

"What?! No! I dont deserve you!!" You say, grabbing his shoulders

A flabbergasted look appears on Macaques face

"What! No, no, no, no. I dont deserve you." He said slowly, as if trying to get it to stick in your head

"No!" You say, still shocked that he would ever think that

You both stared at each other for another moment before both bursting out into giggles and laughter over the whole ordeal

After you both calmed down from your laughing, you laid down and motioned for Macaque to lay next to you

After than you both laid in silence just apprecaiting each other's company

"...hey plum...i'm sorry. About earlier. I know I already apologized but o just wanted to make sure you knew..."

You couldn't help but smile at that

"yeah. I know Macaque..,"

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

I'm so sorry this took so long! I had to rewrite this like- five times :')

Anyway, I'm going on a break for a little while. There's gonna be one more head canon thats gonna come out and then I'll go on break. I'll let you all know when I get back :D

[acre-of-wheat]

Since there’s an 85% chance I’m thinking about Willow at any given time, I have some more Willow thoughts.

Mainly, why does no one check in with Kit about her brother?

I know that the purpose of The Quest shifts with the discovery of Elora, but it's still ostensibly about saving Airk, and his twin is right there, consumed with worry and guilt about the whole thing, and every time she expresses it she's treated like she's throwing a tantrum.

The Gales

There's tremendous guilt here, where Kit has said something rash and now regrets it, a common theme for her. The apology here is fascinating, because what exactly is she apologizing for? Not protecting her brother? Not being the one taken? Not cherishing her family enough? For behaving badly? Whatever it is, it hurts the heart.

The High Aldwin

As soon as Kit sees the clusterfuck that is the finger test and watches Elora "fail" it, she's out the door, insistent on continuing The Quest because now that Willow has given them a direction she won't let anything stop her. She'll go alone if she has to.

The rest of the party catches up (Kit didn't really want to go alone, or at least not without Jade) and suddenly they have an extremely slow wagon and they've added several members to the party and are taking breaks in the middle of the day for magic lessons-- all things that will slow them down considerably.

As an aside, because this could really be its own whole post, I feel like one of the roots of disconnect between Kit and Jade is that Jade has never taken Kit seriously. Not as a swordsman or adventurer, not as a princess or leader, not even as a real potential love interest. It's not until the edge of the Shattered Sea where Jade finally tells Kit that she'll trust Kit's judgment and doesn't drag her away from the waterfall jump that she learns to have faith. If part of Kit's journey is about learning to believe in Elora, part of Jade's journey is learning to believe in Kit.

The Whispers of Nockmaar

With the knowledge they have at the time, Kit makes the realistic call about Graydon, one that Jade and Boorman agree with (of course not in the moment, don't get me started on that...) and her reasoning remains her brother-- they don't have time to wait for Graydon to turn, to keep him chained up and drag him with, and to inevitably get shanked by him. They've just watched several allies be killed by possessed people, and so far Willow hasn't given them any reason to hope that it can be reversed.

Even with Willow's dodgy faith in the purgation ritual, Kit does throw herself into the process. Then they get partway through and start to hear Airk's voice and Kit loses it.

She fully books it out of the throne room, because this is legit awful.

When Elora goes out to the hallway after her own emotional moment, the two share an aggressive greeting that Kit immediately backs off from.

It should be mentioned that the conversation shifts to Elora's fears about things, and Kit is about to tell her about the eckleberry bush before Elora bounces.

Beyond the Shattered Sea

There's a lot going on in this episode, internally with Kit and externally in her relationship with Elora. They hear the old paladin of Cashmere's story about wandering the Shattered Sea for years and eventually murdering all his companions and Elora says that it doesn't matter, they'll find the city. To Kit this must look like more baseless faith-- faith she hasn't yet learned to have in Elora.

She's just lost her dad again, lost a substitute father figure, the other father figure she has on The Quest has betrayed her trust, and she's desperate to not lose Airk too. She is still deeply conscious of how little time they have, how little time her twin has.

It should be mentioned that they are too late when they reach the Immemorial City! Airk has been corrupted, Kit might have needed to kill him in order to save Elora, they did fail in a meaningful way!

I know we're limited by episode length, and how everyone in the party is perpetually semi-annoyed by Kit, but Kit actually checks in with the party quite a bit! She has a moment with Graydon where she apologizes and gets to know him, she checks in with Jade after Ballantine's death, asks Jade how she's feeling about the whole Bone Reaver family thing, she has three conversations with Elora where the focus is on giving her confidence in herself, she checks in on Willow's emotional health for god's sake.

I just desperately wanted someone to pull this kid aside and say "hey, you good?"

Because she's definitely not.

[saintsenara]

What are your thoughts on mediwitches and medical care in the Wizarding World?

thank you very much for the asks, @thesilverstarling and @yorickofyore, which i have handily combined into one for the chance to talk about a worldbuilding question i am legitimately obsessed with:

what the hell is going on with wizarding medicine? part one: the structure of the healthcare system

as i've said here, something which is really interesting when thinking about the wizarding healthcare system is that the signing of the statute of secrecy - the event which causes the total separation of the magical and muggle worlds - in 1689 takes place before a period of considerable advancement in western medicine.

i really like the fact that the canonical worldbuilding around potions suggests that many disciplines of wizarding science are more closely rooted in the medieval and early-modern history of science than their muggle equivalents. i also like the fact that the natural end point of the archaic muggle technology which is used in the series to make the wizarding world seem whimsical by virtue of it being old-fashioned [steam trains etc.] is to assume that wizards live in a world where cutting-edge medical technology is unheard of...

and, therefore, to think of wizarding medicine as a discipline which is meaningfully distinct from its muggle cousin.

and which isn't necessarily more advanced...

the historical context

a muggle physician working in what is now the united kingdom when the statute of secrecy was signed lacked much of what we would take to be basic medical knowledge today, even if he'd studied medicine at a university. he wouldn't know what germs were, for example, and he might still believe that the body was governed by four humours [a theory which was starting to be questioned at the time]. he would never have seen a stethoscope [not invented until 1816]. he would consider the microscope [first used in a scientific context in 1666] bizarre, new-fangled technology - and he is unlikely, especially if he worked outside of london, oxford, or cambridge, to have ever seen one.

he would have had less opportunity to learn about human anatomy, no matter the form his training took, than medical students today. dissections were fairly uncommon, for religious reasons, and surgery didn't really exist as a field... not least because anaesthesia wasn't available until the middle of the nineteenth century.

this is not to say, however, that his anatomical knowledge would have been wrong.

he would probably have relied for his understanding of the inner working of the body on a text called de humani corporis fabrica [on the fabric of the human body], published in the 1540s by the belgian surgeon andreas vesalius. this text - a detailed study of the human body [which supplanted the handbooks in use prior to the sixteenth century - those of the roman physician, galen] - was possible because vesalius managed to obtain a steady supply of executed criminals to dissect. it's a fascinating text - not least because it's still pretty accurate.

as a result, our physician would be aware of many of the major medical discoveries of the later 1500s and 1600s - such as the structure of the musculoskeletal system, the fact that blood circulates in the body, and the fact that the human lungs require the inhalation of air to function.

unless the need for a surgical treatment [such as the extraction of a tooth or the amputation of a limb] was obvious, most of the treatments he would prescribe would be herbal - and his dispensary would include not only plants from all over eurasia, but also from european colonies in the americas.

he might, for example, be found prescribing chocolate... which would make madam pomfrey happy:

“Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least,” said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry’s eyes. “I’ve already had some,” said Harry. “Professor Lupin gave me some. He gave it to all of us.”  “Did he, now?” said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. “So we’ve finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?”

it's important to note that many of these traditional herbal remedies genuinely work. plenty of modern medicines are developed from them [the most widely known, i imagine, being aspirin], and anyone taking a herbal remedy should be aware that they need to check how this remedy interacts with any other medication or supplements they take [especially - i beg - if the herbal remedy in question is st john's wort...]

but it's also true that our early-modern physician would spend a lot of time prescribing various odd pastes, poultices, potions, and powders, made from ingredients such as stones, spiders' webs, animal blood, and human body parts.

[he might even have recommended some of his patients swallow a bezoar - even if the efficacy of these as a cure for poisoning was starting to be doubted in the seventeenth century...]

and his go-to treatment would - of course - be bloodletting, to remove "bad blood", the cause of myriad ills, from the body.

jkr is - obviously - extremely fond of using these medieval and early-modern remedies as part of the worldbuilding around magical medicine. she's also fond of extending the obsolete technology which is used to make the wizarding world feel whimsical into the realm of the body - wizards wear monocles and use ear trumpets, both of which are assistive devices, because they make the setting feel more magical to a reader in 1997 [and beyond] than glasses and hearing aids.

but there is - if one wants there to be - a sinister undercurrent to the idea that all aspects of wizarding healthcare retain a pre-modern flavour.

wizards do canonically have attitudes towards the body, illness, and disability which, when interrogated, don't seem to have moved on much from the 1680s... which is why this answer is definitely going to end up having a part two, on wizarding attitudes to the body.

for now, though, let's look at how the healthcare system is structured.

the structure of the wizarding healthcare system

the two medical institutions we see in canon - st mungo's and the hogwarts hospital wing - are whimsical pastiches of aspects of the british healthcare system: st mungo's is an nhs hospital [hence the reason it seems to be free - although i think it's interesting for authors to imagine that it isn't...] and the hospital wing is a boarding school infirmary.

st mungo's is immediately familiar to anyone who has worked in a hospital - especially characters like this patient from order of the phoenix:

“And that woman over there,” he indicated the only other occupied bed, which was right beside the door, “won’t tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings.”

but the structure of the modern hospital - its departments, its staff - is a post-1689 invention, as are the non-hospital spaces [gp's surgeries, dentist's and optometrist's offices, pharmacies] in which healthcare takes place.

and so how might the places in which healing occurs differ from their muggle equivalents?

st mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries

like any hospital, st mungo's offers a combination of emergency and specialist treatment. it doesn't seem to offer general healthcare - such as check-ups - and it doesn't seem to offer treatment for minor-to-moderate ailments.

this makes sense given its real-world influences - in the uk, most aspects of most people's everyday healthcare are the purview of a general practitioner, and specialists tend not to be seen outside of specific, often more serious contexts.

[for example, i'm a woman in my thirties who has never had an appointment with a gynaecologist - something which shocks american friends. this is because everything to do with reproductive healthcare that i've had to do in my life so far - such as cervical screening - has been done by my gp's surgery.]

st mungo's also doesn't seem to perform general dental or optometrical services. this is also the case in the uk.

we know from canon that it has wards which treat long-term residents - such as the longbottoms. in muggle britain, this wouldn't exactly be the case - nhs trusts manage certain types of residential treatment [such as psychiatric hospitals, or brain-injury rehabilitation centres], which tend to be on separate sites to hospital buildings, but long-term care homes and assisted-living facilities are managed by private companies or local councils. the wizarding population is evidently too small to have any form of local government, so this becoming the purview of the healthcare system makes sense.

what is more interesting, though, is that st mungo's doesn't seem to treat anything which doesn't have a specifically magical cause...

community care

we see in canon that wizards prefer to treat even fairly serious magical conditions in the home [with the hogwarts hospital wing as the pseudo-domestic stand-in] - in the form of ron's fake spattergroit in deathly hallows.

we can also assume, then, that things like birth and death [as well as the treatment of non-magical conditions] also generally take place in the home - and that this is why st mungo's doesn't seem to offer any sort of obstetric care.

and this will have an impact on how wizards understand things like birth, death, and aging which - while not divergent from the muggle understanding of these things historically - would be massively at odds with the muggle attitude contemporarily. only around 2% of births in the uk take place at home, for example - and since around 43% of deaths take place in a hospital and 20% take place in a care home, it is now a minority experience to die in your own home. multi-generational living is extremely uncommon for british muggles outside of specific demographic groups. it would presumably not be - since gerontological care must take place in the home - for british wizards.

[i am aware of the wizarding care home in the cursed child, but i think we can either ignore this as not-canon, or imagine it working as an almshouse - such as the royal hospital, chelsea, founded in 1682 - the early-modern equivalent of a care home]

similarly, the treatment of chronic illnesses must generally take place in the home - which offers a really interesting insight into why, for example, remus lupin appears so much less healthy than werewolves like fenrir greyback, who live in quasi-familial community groups.

so too must the care of the terminally ill - which means that wizards would retain a relationship with death that muggles are increasingly detached from. i was struck when talking about deathly hallows with some friends that they were surprised that fleur delacour can see thestrals - and they automatically assumed that she must have witnessed some sort of traumatic death for this to be the case. but if her grandmother [who seems, as of goblet of fire, to be dead] went through the process of dying [which is not immediate!] at home, she would probably have been there to witness and understand it. this is an entirely natural part of the human experience.

and this means - as we'll come to in part two - that who doesn't get treated in the home becomes an interesting question...

healers and their training

the stringent academic requirements for healing training in canon are a pastiche of those needed for a medical degree in muggle britain. medicine is an extremely competitive subject [as in many places worldwide, the number of places is capped] and all uk medical schools require top a-level [the final-year exams which newts are a mirror of] grades.

in the wizarding world - since university education doesn't appear to exist - the subject is taught by apprenticeship. this makes sense - all muggle medical degrees have a considerable practical component, and i think we can easily imagine that trainee healers are also required to attend lectures etc.

however, since there doesn't appear to be general medicine in the wizarding world, healers seem to apprentice from the off in specific specialities.

similarly, on their wards, they seem to function as a combination of all the levels of staff you would find in a muggle hospital - a doctor would not, for example, hand out christmas gifts on a ward - and there doesn't seem to be any hierarchy post-qualification. you can only be an apprentice or a healer - instead of a junior, registrar, consultant etc. [or the american near-equivalents - intern, resident, attending etc.]

but all of this makes sense if we consider it alongside the fact that a lot of treatment must take place in the home. healers are - by their very nature - advanced specialists in a specific [and apparently narrow] range of magical illnesses and injuries, who presumably deal with such a small number of patients [arthur weasley is on a ward with only three people, supervised by two healers - i think many of us who've worked in muggle hospitals would kill for that ratio...] that they are able to take the holistic role they do in canon.

other medical staff

and so most aspects of wizarding medicine must be administered by people who are not [by virtue of formal training] healers - both within the home and outside it.

madam pomfrey, for example, seems to have a different, lower level of training than a healer - not least because her title, which she shares with other non-academic staff like madam hooch, is intended to indicate that she is below the hogwarts professors in terms of qualification [however wizards understand this when it comes to fitness to teach]. we see in canon that she needs to send patients to st mungo's for specific magical injuries which she doesn't have the training and/or equipment to treat [mcgonagall after she's stunned in order of the phoenix, katie bell after she's cursed in half-blood prince], but that she's able to treat most magical injuries which are non-life-threatening, and most non-magical injuries and minor illnesses.

in the uk, a school matron would generally be qualified as a nurse - and madam pomfrey reflects this. obviously, this is primarily a narrative detail which helps the [british] reader understand the wizarding world by referencing something with which they are familiar, but from an in-world perspective it suggests that there is a hierarchy of medical training which we don't hear about in canon.

perhaps even because it would be considered beneath the alumni of as elite a boarding school as hogwarts to go into the equivalent of nursing...

[indeed, the apparent absence of credentialism in the presentation of healing being revealed to be a lie would fit the way the series approaches class... and the class distinctions, not only in terms of post-qualification social status, but in terms of background - in 2016, 61% of people studying medicine or dentistry were privately educated - between doctors and nurses in the uk are significant.]

and so i imagine that general medical treatment - as well as more specialised disciplines like midwifery, dentistry, and optometry - is available in the wizarding world [for a fee?] from licensed [anyone offering medical care in england has required a license since the 1520s] community-based practitioners such as madam pomfrey, with people only seeking treatment at st mungo's for urgent magical cases.

there must also be a voluntary aspect to this community-based medical system - i've always assumed that the people who bring arthur weasley to st mungo's are volunteers rather than professional paramedics, for example - and treatment must also be available from shops - such as apothecaries, which can presumably diagnose ailments as well as sell the treatments for them - which provide medical services alongside various other functions.

[maybe the people who make objects such as james and sirius' two-way mirrors are also responsible for lens-crafting and other aspects of optometry.]

this can be a fun worldbuilding detail - historically, surgery [and most dental care] was provided by barbers. clearly, molly doesn't cut her sons' hair at home for financial reasons, but because the one time she let bill go to the barber's on his own, he came back with a gold tooth...

the medical research sector

while the wizarding world doesn't appear to have universities - or other research institutions which look familiar to the modern reader - it clearly has some sort of scientific infrastructure, within which medical and pharmaceutical research [such as the development of the wolfsbane potion in the early 1990s] takes place.

and we can very easily imagine what this infrastructure is...

the statute of secrecy is signed after the emergence in britain of learned societies - essentially, research organisations, which are modelled on the college fellowships of oxford and cambridge [with a little bit of the medieval guild thrown in]. they function as academic networks, peer-review groups, and professional bodies.

in the medical field, the royal college of physicians - which is still going! i'm a member! - was founded in 1519. in the natural sciences more generally, the royal society - probably the most famous learned society in the world - was officially established in 1663.

we know of at least one wizarding learned society from canon - the most extraordinary society of potioneers, founded by hector dagworth-granger - and we know that there are academic journals - such as transfiguration today - which can be presumed to be published by others.

it makes absolute sense that there would be a learned society which focused on the science of healing, and offered publications, lectures, demonstrations [imagine how horrendous the first demonstration of the wolfsbane potion might have been...], research funding, and so on to professionals working in the discipline. it also makes sense that there would be a college or guild for apothecaries.

the real question, though, is what these would be called... after all, the wizarding world tends to have a touch of whimsy to it, but since there's literally a clinical body in the uk called "nice", the muggles might have won this round...

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Jason Holding Your Hand While You Struggle To Walk Beside Him

Jason Voorhees X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, abuse, bodily injuries

Word Count: 940

(A/N:) Happy Friday the 13th sick things! I'm here to bring your boy Jason as a favor to my friend! She loves the franchise and this masked slasher! Guess he's her equivalent to my Michael Myers. I had to write something for her and I really wanted to post it today because duh! So hopefully this will make the other Jason Voorhees fangirls happy! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Your parents had forced you into being a camp counselor at the newly reopened Camp Crystal Lake. Despite your protests at having to spend summer with cruel students you went to school with, you were shipped off and left to fend for yourself. It didn't take long until the horrible things that they did to you during the school year began to happen at the camp. It didn't matter how many times you told the overseers of the camp, your dilemmas fell on deaf ears. Two days into your camp stay and you escaped to your cabin and refused to come out. You locked the door, letting the pleas of the staff go ignored. Thankfully your mother had packed you snacks, so you had no reason to leave.

That second night you had been holed up everything changed. You had fallen asleep, the sounds of night bugs filling the silence until a scream pierced the air. You jolted awake, a shiver going down your spine. Several moments passed as you tried to steady your breathing, your mind chalking it up to the others trying to get you to come out of your cabin. Laying back down you tried to go back again, when another scream froze your blood. You could hear thundering footsteps as the door to your cabin began to shake. One of the counselors beat upon the door, pleading for you to let them in.

"Haven't you tortured me enough," you shouted pulling your blankets over your head. "Go prank someone else!"

Another scream as a machete pierced through the wood of your cabin door and blood splattered across the frosted glass. You choked back a scream, trying to keep as quiet as possible, praying that whoever on the other side would go away. No such luck as the door shattered letting in the attacker. You shook violently at the giant of a man standing before you. Your eye had been blackened from your fellow counselors throwing rocks at you and the palms of your hands had scabbed over where they had tripped you on the gravel.

"Please," you whimpered. "Don't hurt me."

Though he didn't treat you the same as the now dead girl on the ground in front of your cabin, he didn't just leave you alone. You found yourself walking beside the tall killer through the camp that now was stained with the blood of his victims. Your legs felt like jello as you tried to think of some way to get away. He put a hand at the small of your back, trying to be careful of your bruises. No one had treated you so gently but you really didn't want to go into the woods. He was adamant as he pushed you further. How he could see you didn't know as the moon was hidden by the dense foliage of the trees and small bushes. Sticks cracked under your bare feet and despite his large size he stalked through the darkness in absolute silence. You tripped over roots, sticks snagging on your hair, and thorns scratching up your already battered face. He patiently waited for you to catch up, never letting you fall too far behind. The further in the woods you got, the more exhausted you became until every step you took you were tripping. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face and the terror was beginning to swallow you.

The adrenaline you had before was keeping you going, but now that wore out and you were exhausted. You watched the large man disappear in a thick brush. Letting out a relieved breath you hoped that your luck was finally beginning to change. That didn't last long as he returned not seconds later. Seeing you on the ground he slipped the rusted bloodstained machete under his belt and holding out a scarred and bloody hand. You reclined away from his hand. He grunted wiping his hand on his stained pants before reaching out again. He wasn't going to leave so you gave in, placing your much smaller hand in his large palm. He pulled you upwards, getting you back steady on your feet before starting forward again. A few steps in and you noticed that he hadn't released your hand. It was much easier to walk and keep up with him as long as he held your hand tightly. The coolness of his skin against your warmth was a pleasant contrast it had you shivering.

You lost track of the time and how long you had been walking before exhaustion once again nipped at your heels. Despite him leading you, you were beginning to falter once again.

"I'm tired," you mumbled.

Wordlessly and in one motion you were lifted and held in this stranger's arms. He carried you tenderly making sure no branches snagged in your hair or struck your face. He seemed tireless as he pressed forward. Though he hadn't said a word or made any sort of motions to harm you, it had been the nicest you'd ever been treated. The horrors at the camp, not just from his killing spree, seemed to melt away as exhaustion overtook your body. You fell asleep in his arms as he kept walking forward with a purpose. Thoughts of what everyone would think with you missing was at the back of your mind until you were swallowed by sleep. You couldn't bring yourself to worry as you finally felt safe at last, you melted into his embrace and let yourself be carried away. The unknown before you vast and uncharted, but maybe it would be better. Time would only tell.

[inlovewithpandora]

- Something New || Part One -

Pairing: Jake x fem! human/avatar!reader x Neytiri

Synopsis: When you and Jake go on your first expedition in the rainforest it takes a turn…

Content/Warnings: no warnings really, strong language, Jake lowkey being in his silly goofy mood, Jake & y/n getting chased (and captured), mention of Neytiri

Author’s Note: I’m so excited to start this series, I hope you all enjoy this part as much as I did!

- please excuse any mistakes!

Word Count: 2k

Glossary: Eywa'eveng - Eywa Child (what Na’vi call Pandora) || Palulukan - Thanator || Atokirina - Woodsprite || Uniltìrantokx - Dreamwalker || pa'li - Direhorse || Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader || Tsahìk - spiritual leader

- All Na’vi words used are bolded (I used more Na’vi words than usual for some reason😭)

Extra: requests are open! Please read rules prior to requesting!

Links: Navigation || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

Part Two →

"One idiot (Jake) with a gun is enough" you heard Grace say as she talked to the recom guy who she told to stay on the ship.

You, Grace, Jake, and Norm were out in your avatar bodies exploring the forest so you and Jake could get a feel of Eywa'eveng as the Na'vi call it. You were a new scientist, just recently added to Grace's research team just like your boyfriend Jake. You were friends with his brother Tom, he was the one who piqued your interest in Pandora and the Na'vi.

Tom taught you little things here and there about the flora, fauna, and the Na'vi and it always left you wanting more which made you sign up for the Avatar program. You were enthusiastic to be alongside your friend on this journey of discovery until you got the news from Jake that he was killed.

It hurt you to the core knowing that you lost one of your closest friends but to also know that he couldn't fulfill his dreams, that he couldn't do the things he worked so hard to attain.

As all of you continued walking through the forest Jake was aiming his gun in every direction that emitted a noise, "Those are just prolemuris Jake" you tell him as you watched the blue and green colored animals swing on different vines and trees.

"Pro-Prole what? What is that?" Jake's face scrunched in confusion at the foreign word

"Pro-le-mur-is" you say slowly for him to understand "It's similar to the monkeys on earth. They are unaggressive and they won't harm us"

Jake didn't have any type of knowledge about Pandora's vast variety of flora or fauna so majority of the time you had to feed him information like you're doing now.

"Relax marine" Grace put her hand on Jake's gun and shoved it towards the ground "You're making me nervous," she told him as she walked away and ventured deeper into the forest.

- timeskip -

Grace and Norm were taking samples from some tree roots and you stood in front of them listening to Grace explain what type of energy transfer was occurring. As you continued observing you could hear footsteps retreating behind you, you turn around and see Jake walking off to another part of the forest.

"Jake you shouldn't be wandering out here by yourself, all of us need to stay together," you say loudly as you walk up to him trying to get his attention

"I'm fine babe I have a gun to protect me" You just roll your eyes at the overconfidence in his tone and walked beside him as he continues looking out for any dangers that might occur.

As both of you walked and talked together you heard some plants rustle behind you. Your ears perked up as you heard the noise so you turned around filled with curiosity. As you turned your heels you came face to face with a palulukan, when you saw it raise it's distinctive crest your ears feel flat to your head and your tail curled behind you.

"J-Ja-Jak-" your words were so jumbled and fear was overbearing you so much that you couldn't properly say his name. Jake didn't understand why you were stammering so he turned around to see what made you act this way.

Once he turned around and saw the ferocious animal his eyes grew wide, "what the fuck is that?!"

"It's a thanator."

"What do we do? Are we supposed to run?"

"Yes run, we should definitely get the hell out of here before it tries to eat us!" you grab Jake's hand and began walking away slowly as you see the palulukan looking in another direction.

Once the palulukan noticed both of you retreating it roared, baring its teeth as it gets ready to pounce. Without a second thought, you and Jake began running through the forest trying to get away from the fearsome predator as fast as possible. You both jump over trees, run through bushes, and many more obstacles that are in your path.

You and Jake crawl under the roots of a tree and he begins to shoot at the vicious animal. The bullets flying just made the palulukan more aggressive than before, it reached its head under the root and grabbed Jake's gun by the mouth, and tossed it away.

Both of you crawled from under the root and continued running. As both of you ran you heard a shout from Jake, "Shit!"

you turned around and saw the palulukan swinging Jake around by his backpack, "Jake!" you screamed out as you watch him being thrown around like a rag doll.

As Jake is being thrown around he came up with an idea to get out of this predicament, he unbuckled his backpack from his waist and was able to get free from the palulukan hold.

Once Jake fell onto the ground you ran over to him, "Jake! Jake! Are you okay?!" You asked him as you scanned his body to make sure he didn't have any injuries. "Yes yes I'm fine let's just away from this crazy ass animal" Jake scrambled off the ground, grabbed your hand, and dragged you through the forest.

As both of you continued sprinting through the forest your path comes to an end and are faced with an enormous waterfall, "y/n come on we need to jump!" Jake began looking back to see if the palulukan was near.

"N-No Jake I can't jump! We're too high up! We're going to plummet to our death if we jump!" You ramble on and on about all the things that could go wrong. Your heart was beating faster than it was before, if its pace quickened anymore your heart would beat out of your chest.

Jake put his hands on your shoulders and he could feel you shaking, "Look y/n we have to do this okay? If we don't that thing is going to kill us, come on babe be brave for me okay?"

"O-okay I'll do it" your voice quivers as you look down at the many many feet you'll have to jump. You grab Jake's hand and begin to squeeze his hand, "1...2...3..." At the same time both of you leap off the cliff and gravity pulls both of you towards the massive body of water.

After a few seconds, both of your bodies hit the water, once your body reached the bottom you began to swim to the surface.

When your head went above the water you gasped for air, trying to replenish your lungs with much-needed oxygen.

The flow of the water was rapid, it was pushing you down the stream so fast that you could barely process it. As your body was being pushed downstream you saw tree limbs and roots off to the side. You immediately went over to it and threw your arm over the root so you could stay out in that one spot.

As you look around you don't see Jake anymore which scares you, "Jake! Jake!" you screamed to the top of your lungs calling out for him hoping that he would hear you and pop out of the water.

Your eyes frantically scanned the body of water but nothing. You couldn't see his blue skin, his yellow eyes, nothing. There wasn't a single trace of him anywhere.

After a while of hanging onto the branch still searching for Jake, you realized that you needed to get on land. You climb up the limb as much as possible until you were able to touch the mossy forest floor.

- Timeskip -

You were now wandering around the forest, trying to find any sort of fruit to consume. It's been hours since you and Jake ran away from the palulukan and you still haven't found him yet which gave you an ample amount of anxiety.

You continued walking, mentally praying that Jake returns to you safe and sound.

From above there was a pair of golden eyes watching your every move which went unnoticed by you since your back was facing the tree the person was in.

The pair of eyes belong to no other than Neytiri.

She watched you pick fruit from a small bush as she grabbed her bow and pointed her arrow in your direction, ready to release it and let it pierce your spine.

When she began the process of releasing an Atokirina landed on the tip of her arrow. She was confused by the action, wondering why Eywa gave her this sign, wondering why would Eywa thought that a uniltìrantokx was so important that she should spare her life.

She lowered her bow and watched you curiously for a few moments before disappearing within the shadows of the rainforest meanwhile you were enjoying the juicy fruit you found.

As you sat down on the ground with your back leaning against the tree you heard the snap of a twig which made you furrow your brows. You immediately jumped up and grabbed your knife going into defense mode, as you looked around slowly trying to find the cause of the noise you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.

Without a second thought, you elbow the person in the face which makes them let go of you. You were about to run off without even looking back at the person until you heard their voice, "Dammit y/n"

You turn around and see Jake rubbing his nose from the pain you caused him, "Jake?!" You run up and hug him, you were so happy to know he was still alive and okay but you didn't like the fact he scared you. When you released him from the hug you shoved him in the chest, "Why did you scare me like that? you idiot! I thought you were a random Na'vi trying to attack me or something!"

"I'm sorry y/n I didn't mean to but you got me back for it though because you hit my nose pretty damn good"

"Sorry about that babe..." you say flashing him a soft smile hoping he would forgive you for hitting him.

"It's whatever now, I'm just glad to see you again" he walked up to you, placing his hands on both sides of your face while gliding his thumbs ever so slightly on your sapphire skin.

Jake looks down at you with eyes filled with happiness from being reunited after not knowing about each other's whereabouts for many hours. Jake leans down slowly, beginning to make his lips come in contact with your soft ones. As you leaned in with him both of your lips connected.

The kiss was something both of you needed, something to help calm both of your spirits since both of you have to spend the night in the forest until morning so someone could come find you.

You thought nothing could disturb this moment between you and Jake... until something did...

Once you and Jake pulled away from each other multiple Na'vi were standing in front of you and Jake with bows and arrows in their hands. You and Jake's first thought was to run away so that's what both of you did... or attempted to do.

Both of you only made it a few feet away before being cornered by more Na'vi warriors who were riding pa'li. Jake pulled out his knife and held you close to him while the warriors on pa'li pointed their bows at both of you while yelping out small war cries.

As they got closer to both of you, aiming the arrows directly at your chest Jake just chuckled with frustration, "You got to be fucking kidding me" he mumbled while dropping the knife on the ground.

The warriors didn't waste any time and grabbed you and Jake forcefully, harshly grabbing you by your biceps, pressing their digits into your skin so hard you were positive that it would leave faint purple marks later.

They began dragging you across the forest, ready to take you and your boyfriend to their Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk so they could determine your fate, so they could decide if you lived to see the next day or they would make you regret stepping foot in the rainforest.

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[alaydabug2]

Totally didn't sob as I wrote this

Nope nope nope 😭

*inspired by song*

(Sophie POV)

Sophie frantically searched through the fields with her friends. The battle was over. The Neverseen was defeated. But Keefe was still nowhere to be found.

Giselle was dead, Gethen, and the others were captured. Where was Keefe? He had to be somewhere! When she heard a pitiful moan, her heart dropped.

"KEEFE!" She yelled, running towards the noise. "KEEFE! WHERE ARE YOU?"

Her worst fear was confirmed when she crested over a hill. Keefe in a pool of blood. She could see the side of his shirt where he was stabbed.

She got on her knees beside him, applying pressure to the wound. "Guys, he's over here!" She called to her friends.

She met his exhausted eyes. "Hey. Come on, you need to stay awake for me. We can still get you to Elwin!"

She moved to go pick him up, but he stopped her. He took in a ragged breath before shaking his head.

"It's... it's not going to help. Too deep," Keefe rasped.

"Of course it'll help!" Please," she begged. "You can't die! The Neverseen is gone. You can't die now!"

He gave a weak smile. "Good. Then you'll all be safe now." It quickly faded, though. "Will you stay with me? Please?" He asked as their friends joined them. "I don't want to be alone," his voice broke.

Sophie pulled him in her lap. "Of course."

She pressed her forehead to his as tears fell down her face. Their friends crowded them, taking in the scene in stunned silence.

Several minutes passed, Keefe growing weaker, before his horse voice whispered, "I love you, Sophie. I'd always swore I would until the day I die. I just never thought..." His voice trailed off as his gaze fell to their intertwined hands, pressed against the wound.

She let out a sob. "I'll always love you, Keefe. I can swear to you that."

She gently kissed him, hand lingering on his cheek. When they pulled away, Keefe let his eyes flutter closed, exhaling a slow, seemingly content, breath. He never took another.

(Three months later)

Sophie wound through the path she'd become accustomed to taking through the wandering woods. She stopped at a pale sapling.

Its leaves we're a pastel yellow in color, growing in direction of no rhyme or reason. The small buds of flowers were ice blue. They hadn't bloomed yet, but it was apparent a few would soon. The little wanderling didn't grow in the correct direction. It was, however, growing sideways, tilting to one side.

Sophie slid onto the ground next to it. She clutched a small stuffed gulon in her hands.

"Hey, Keefe," she whispered. "It's official, they've gotten statues of all of us up in Enternalia. They did a dedication ceremony for it. Everyone seemed really impressed." She chuckled a little. "If you were there, your ego would've gotten about twenty times bigger."

She raked her fingers through the dirt near the root of his tree. "Speaking of which. The council talked about you. A bit of a mini memorial of sorts, I suppose. They said that despite you being the son of a Neverseen leader, you died a hero. You helped save everyone."

She eased herself to lay on the dirt beside him. She curled her knees into her chest, her green dress fanning around her.

"And they're right," Sophie's voice cracked. She waited a second before saying, "I'm so proud of you. You did so well during that battle. No one ever got to tell you, but thank you. For your sacrifice. For being you. Being amazing." She sniffled. "Being my friend. Being more.... You deserved so much better than this."

She hadn't slept in what felt like days. It was too much. The nightmares were overwhelming. Horrific scenes replayed over and over in her mind whenever she closed her eyes.

But for some reason, with the rustling of leaves, the tickling of wind, and her grip on Mrs. Stinkbottom, she felt her eyes growing heavy. A sense of comfort washed over her, almost like Keefe was still beside her. The wind seemed to be sending her calming blue breezes.

She closed her eyes, falling asleep. She didn't have a single nightmare.

(Twenty years later)

Sophie sat against the trunk of Keefe's wanderling.

"Hey, I'm back," she murmured. "Sorry I haven't visited in a bit. Life's been a little hectic."

She blew the hair out of her face before gathering it in a ponytail. She stared up at the beautiful blossoming flowers.

"Dex and Biana just had a baby. He's the sweetest thing in the world. His name is Dennis. They wanted him to have a more human-ish sounding name to break the norm." She chuckled. "Well... that's his first name, at least. His full name is Dennis Keefe Dizznee."

Sophie had to wipe her eyes. "They wanted to honor you. I think it fits pretty well, actually. You can already tell he's going to be a little troublemaker. He keeps trying to hide his binky. You'd be pround."

She sat it the quiet for a while, drinking in the sereneness.

Eventually, she whispered, "You would've made a great dad. Despite your own parents, you would have. I have zero doubt about it."

Instead, he was six feet under. Sophie's heart felt heavy. Every time when she thought she might finally be able to move on...

"I'll just have to tell Dex and Biana's kids about you," she decided. "They'll love your funny antics. I just wish they'd have been able to meet you."

She rested her head against his tree and closed her eyes. "I love you."

(One hundred years later)

"The humans are being reinstated as an intelligent species!" Sophie exclaimed.

"Amy's great grand daughter is the representative for humans. She's an awesome spokesperson. I just wish... that Amy could still be here to see everything come together. She died a few decades ago."

She glanced up at the yellow leaves swishing in the breeze. "But, I guess you already know that, don't you?"

She smudged away a few of her tears. "Tell her I love her, will you? And I miss her. I miss the both of you."

Now that she was thinking about it... "Are you with Calla up there, too?" She gave a shaky smile. "I hope so. Have some of her Starkflower stew with her for me. What about Forkle? And Kenric? Let them know everything is ok down here. Everything they sacrificed paid off. Things are slowly getting better."

(Two thousand years later)

Sophie brushed her hand against the pale tree bark. She gave a gentle smile.

"Hey Keefe, guess what? I was just enstated as councilor. Oralie stepped down, and I was nominated. I accepted."

She tucked her hair behind one of her pointed ears. "I'm going to try and put a few laws into place for you. It's so no other kids have to deal with what you had to with your parents. The meeting for it will be on Thursday. I've got high hopes for it. I also plan on finding a better matchmaking system."

Shr kicked the dirt. "I still haven't figured out who my father is. I don't plan to keep looking. I haven't in a while. I have no reason for matchmaking anymore. Well... I haven't in a few thousand years, I suppose," she chuckled.

"I know you would've been ok with me finding someone else, but... it doesn't feel right. It wouldn't be fair. For either me, or them. I know I wouldn't be able to fully love someone again, and they should deserve my full heart. But I just can't. At least not like I love you.

She pressed her forehead against the trunk. "When I gave you that promise, I meant it. I'm always going to love you. No matter what."

The blue breezes in the air picked up, wrapping around Sophie it what felt to be a hug. She hadn't felt that physically close to Keefe in a few millennia. Now, it felt like he was right there.

The wind seemed to whisper in her ear. She could've sworn she heard words in it.

'I love you too, Foster.'

Sophie smiled and closed her eyes. She knew he would always be with her. She knew he was there protecting her and taking care of her. He would always be a part of her.

[dairy-farmer]

Infidelity AU where Tim and Kon are married and have taken over the kent farm. They are struggling to have a baby because Kon was a clone and has a messed up reproductive system.

One morning does Kon on patrol in Metropolis so Clark goes to help Tim out on the farm for the day. After an afternoon of pure sexual tension they sit on the couch hot, sweaty, and shirtless. Tim opens up about how Kon is struggling to knock him up, and how desperately he wants to be pregnant. Clark is more than willing to give Tim a baby and impregnates Tim on Kon’s old bed from his Titan days.

Clark helps out around the farm more often because he likes seeing Tim get progressively bigger with their baby. Tim eventually gives birth and Clark knocks him up again immediately after.

Tim and Kon go on to have more children than Bruce and all of them are Clark’s kids. They agree to stop having kids together, but they still have sex every night

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! kon and how being a human-kyptonian hybrid makes him sterile is so good!!!!!!! and tim!!! as much as he loves kon he's never been able to resist or deny the attraction he had to clark that has followed him since he was a poor horny teenager masturbating to the thought of him.

kon doing work in metropolis while tim finishes up chores on the farm and clark shows up because he's on bedrest after a space skirmish which is why kon is taking over his duty. clark might not live on the farm but he still has very nice memories of it and sometimes he yearns for the simple farm life he had as a boy given that things in his personal life hadn't been going well in...a long time. he and lois had been growing distant for years and the only reason they'd lasted for so long towards the end was because lois hadn't wanted to divorce him while his parents were still alive. which he appreciated because clark hadn't wanted ma or pa to die concerned about him.

so clark is having a bit of a rough time of it. grieving his parents, dealing with the divorce from lois just a few short months after.

bruce had even subtly pushed he take time off (which was saying something because it was bruce). in fact bruce had been the one he recommend visit the kent farm that was now looked after by kon and bruce's son.

clark was certain that when bruce pushed him to take time off and return to his roots that he handn't meant fuck his son into the cushions of the couch that had been around since clark was a toddler.

tim is so tight around him, so wet and slick as clark grunts and forces in the full length of his cock until he bottoms out against the pretty pink lips of his cunt. tim takes him so well it must be from kon being a frequent and enthusiastic lover of the pussy twitching and clenching around clark's cock.

clark never thought he was the kind of man who would ever take a liking to another man's wife but...tim is just so pretty. and clark is just so lonely without his parents and he hasn't had sex with someone in years ever since he and lois agreed that they were just cohabitating until his parents passed.

of course clark had tried. lois encouraged him to try seeing other people because even though they were "married" it was more through name. but not a lot of women were interested in continuing to see clark after he tried explaining the situation to them. lois didn't have that issue. clark would be on the couch in an old college tshirt and some boxers while she got dressed for her date. her dates would bring her flowers and chocolates and clark would try to pretend it didn't hurt. he'd swallow back the bitterness that wanted to rise up with every sweet caramel and bon bon he popped into his mouth.

god clark was pathetic. he really had sunken to rock bottom by giving into the bit of attraction and small crush he developed on tim by flying out to the farm to help out.

it started out innocent. just sweet conversation and getting to get to know each other better. tim was fixing up some things around the farm. ma and pa had let some the repair fall to the wayside in their older age and it hurt clark to know they hadn't called him to help fix the drafty window in the kitchen, or the squeaky hinge of the front door, the gutter that was unsticking from the roof, or the peeling paint in the upstairs bathroom.

it's...nice helping tim fix it up, serving as a handy man for him while they look at paint swatches for the bathroom.

it really is innocent. but then they get talking and clark loves the sound of tim's laughs and the little furrow of his brow as he focused on examining the house's breaker box to figure out why some outlets in the home don't work.

tim and kon are trying for a baby is what he tells clark when he asks why tim is going through all the home repair. tim tells him that he wants the farm to be all fixed up so that when he gets further along and has a baby that he won't have to worry about all the little repairs.

clark also learns kon and tim have been trying for months for a child without success and...it just reminds clark so much of him and lois and one of the things that had really been a struggle to over come after they married.

clark had wanted kids. lois hadn't. and they'd never discussed it before getting married. clark supposed that was their own fault. a marriage was more than just loving someone. it was understanding them and being understood in turn. it was about complimenting one another, being able to depend on the other, making each other laugh, and helping each other when things got tough. it was about sharing values and dreams and hopes for the future. and it was about not giving up on each other and trying to work together to find solutions to problems.

clark had loved lois and knew he was loved in turn but...the two of them were stubborn. they were set in their ways and both believed themselves to be right.

clark had never really lost that desire in his chest for a baby.

and hearing tim talk about fucking kon from dawn to day, talk about how he was taking shots to boost his fertility and how they made him so fucking horny-

clark is a weak man.

the desire. the loneliness from not touching anyone for so long. the little part of his brain chanting for him to cum inside tim deep and fill his womb with every drop of seed-

clark just hopes ma will forgive him for having sex on the family couch.

soon after they finish the first round on the couch tim leads him up to kon's old bedroom that's now more of a guestroom since he and kon moved into the master bedroom.

clark fucks tim roughly and thoroughly, slamming the headboard into the wall hard enough that little cracks started forming as tim squirmed and whined under him.

clark stared down at where tim was split open on his cock, clear cum coating his cock as he snapped his hips into tim's cunt flushed from use.

clark has been pent up for years and unleashes it all on tim whose eyes are rolling back into his skull and panting as clark fondles and gropes his tits, waist, and any part of him he can get his hands on.

it would be one thing if this was an accident. a one time thing.

clark knows its wrong and so the guilt and shame should keep him from doing it again but it doesn't. every time kon goes into space or out to help out with a disaster area, leaving tim unattended. clark speeds over to "keep him company".

but its just an excuse to fuck tim again and cum so hard that it feels like his heart is going to explode.

when tim gets pregnant clark knows he's the father. and rather than dread or shame feels...elated. excited.

sure kon is the "father" but clark coming around won't catch a second look.

tim is so happy to be pregnant and clark makes sure to be gentle when he comes to visit him soon after hearing the news from bruce.

jonathon is born a few months later and clark swears he's the most beautiful baby he's ever seen.

years later after clark has fucked tim full of even more babies is when tim brings it to a close.

he and tim have been having sex for years and clark is more than a little hurt to hear tim wants to end things between them. he might be biting back tears when tim rushes to soothe him. calls him a silly man and says that tim was just talking about clark knocking him up. that tim has all the babies he wanted and of course he and clark would continue seeing each other and having sex. that kon is often gone with duties and tim has been practically permanently wired to be insatiable after years of sleeping with clark.

clark is not a perfect man but by god hasn't he earned the right to be selfish?

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim (Anton & Graham) Drabble: Playing With Food

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumper, failed escape attempt

some Anton & Graham shenanigans because i promised @t0rture-me a drabble of them forever ago :)

-

Chewtoy followed nervously behind Master as he was led outside, beyond the backyard, out to where Master's estate bordered the woods. He tried looking up, but he couldn't see the stars, the sky a dark blur without his long-gone glasses.

It was far from the first time Master took him out. But usually, he'd been taken to something. Some trip lasting more than a night where he'd need to be a portable meal, which wasn't so bad. Or far worse, used as a party trick. But Master was going out the back, and no one else was here. It sent chills down Chewtoy's spine: it was always worse when he didn't know what to expect, even though Master always liked that more.

Master stopped, spinning around with that grin Chewtoy always hated. "Okay, go."

"Go?" Chewtoy asked, wringing his hands together.

Master gestured out into the darkness. "Run. Scurry off. This is your big chance." The mocking smile didn't leave his face.

"And then... I'll be hurt, Master?" Chewtoy guessed, shivering in the just-a-tad-too-cold air.

"Eh, depends how I'm feeling." Master leaned back against the fence. "What, you like being mine so much you won't even try? Guess you're the perfect pick. You were meant for this."

Chewtoy struggled to keep up with what was happening. Master was fond of mind games, but then again... this was a chance. He was outside, being let go.

"I'll give you a fifteen-minute head start," Master enticed. "Go."

Chewtoy bolted.

He'd never been much of an athlete, and he was even less of one now, even his meager walks from his apartment to campus eliminated from his daily routine. It didn't take much medical knowledge for him to guess he was chronically anemic now, on top of that.

Still, he ran, blindly into the darkness. He didn't care what direction he went, toward human territory or not, so long as it was away.

It wasn't long before he tripped, tree roots seemingly coming out of nowhere to take hold of his shoe and send him flying toward the ground. It was a recurring problem, and soon the ruined knees of his pants gave way to skin which gave way to blood. Chewtoy would have worried about infection if he had any reason to care whether he lived or died.

His lungs burned, unused to such physical exertion, the muscles in his legs crying out for relief, but he didn't stop. Who knew if he'd ever get this chance again? With permission, at that?

Just as he took a tumble over another root, an arm wrapped around him mid-fall.

"Gotcha," Master teased.

Chewtoy sagged in his hold, which proved to be a mistake when Master immediately dropped him, falling with a dull thud to the ground. He panted hard, not bothering to get up.

"Okay, thirty-minute head start this time," Master mused. "You need all the help you can get, clearly."

Chewtoy rolled himself over to look up at the vampire who controlled his life. "What?"

Master smirked down at him, amused. "Keep going. Until I get bored. Who knows, maybe you'll really make it this time!"

He was already exhausted. Chewtoy didn't know how much running he had left in him. Any hope of escape had already vanished: he was pretty sure it hadn't even taken a full two minutes since his 'head start' ended for Master to catch him.

Master grabbed him by the shirt collar and hoisted him up. "Run, Chewtoy."

-

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