#contains mod's blood sweat and tears

[ask-percy-jason-nico-will]

Can we get a fan fiction where this four dorks confess to each other?

Jercy Confession

Based on this ask

Nico sat on the couch, quietly curled up into Will’s side. Percy and Jason were sitting at the opposite end in a similar position, both of them smiling nervously. His boyfriend was gently running his fingers through his hair, probably to calm Nico down which was very much appreciated right now. The tension in the room was strung tight, like an elastic that was seconds away from snapping. The peace and content he’d felt when he woke up in Will’s arms this morning were long gone. Now his stomach was tying itself into knots as they all sat awkwardly on their too small couch, none of them brave enough to speak first. It was all Nico’s fault.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. Will’s flair for drama was starting to rub off on him. 

The day had started out as it usually did and Nico had just gotten up after a few moments of cuddling Will to go get breakfast. Percy and Jason had lumbered into the kitchen not long after, making Nico wrinkle his nose as Percy’s rather obvious sex hair. Percy only grinned at him and swiped the pot of coffee that Nico had been brewing for himself before kissing his cheek as if that was an adequate apology. Disgusting. Such blasphemous behaviour, right in front of his Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Even Jason didn’t support him, just chuckling at his misery and kissing the top of his head like he always did before he got to work cooking up some eggs and bacon. ‘Actual food’ is what he called it but he could just try to take his beloved sugary cereals away from him. Will had tried once and it hadn’t been pretty.

Speaking of Will, Nico watched as he walked into the kitchen to join them, his bed head looking rather messy and wild just like Per- oh. Oops. Maybe he had made some assumptions. Judging by the look on Percy’s face he was definitely making some as well but Nico refused to let himself be embarrassed by those beady sea green eyes, no matter how sparkly they were. Still, he could just feel Percy making faces behind his back like some cute insolent toddler and before Nico even know what he was doing, he was grabbing Will by the front of his shirt and kissing him like his life depended on it. Ha. Take that Percy, Nico doesn’t give a damn about what you think. Thankfully Will started kissing back relatively quickly so Nico wasn’t just awkwardly standing there with his lips pressed an unresponsive boyfriend. Gods, he loved kissing Will. He was always filled with a sense of warmth as if Will’s kisses were filling him up with sunshine. He would kiss him forever if he could but unfortunately, Jason, the beautiful jerk, cleared his throat to interrupt them, Nico sighing as he reluctantly pulled away. He went to sit down at the table, making sure to look as petulant as possible to try and show Jason he was not happy about his kissing time being interrupted, though it only accomplished getting all three boys to smile fondly at him as they sat down to eat as well.

Ugh.

Will, Jason and Percy were all so open with their love and affection, Nico had no idea how he managed to put up with them most of the time. Though on the other hand, he mused to himself as he ate a bite of his cereal, he didn’t hate it so much. He loved them too after all. Nico continued to eat his breakfast normally for about two minutes before he froze and went over his thoughts again. Love?! Them?! Plural?! No. No no no, that couldn’t be. He hadn’t even told Will he loved him yet, how could he think he loved Jason and Percy too? His two best friends, who were dating each other and were in a very happy relationship. There wasn’t any room for Nico in there, relationships don’t consist of more than two people. Forget that, what about Will? How would he feel about all this?! He could just see how crushed he would be, how betrayed. Oh, gods did this count as cheating?! He didn’t mean to cheat! He didn’t know, Nico barely knew anything about relationships in the first place! How was it even possible to love three people at once?!

Okay. Okay, he had to calm down. Maybe he was blowing this out of proportion, misjudging his feelings. For all he knew, this could all be platonic. That was a thing right? Platonic love? He was sure Will had mentioned the concept to him at one point. Yet, as he looked up at the boys sitting around him, he knew in his heart that it wasn’t true.

He loved Jason and the way he always put his glasses on wonky in the morning, how he always looked after Nico and teased him for his bad habits, yet he’d still sneak him some of his favorite candy behind Will’s back. He loved how Jason had accepted him for who he was, how Jason was the first person to make Nico feel comfortable in his own skin, how that one fond look that Jason reserved specifically for him always made Nico’s heart thump wildly in his chest.  

He loved Percy and how he was strong, courageous and the most loyal friend you could ever have. He would like to believe that his childhood crush for Percy had faded but if he was being honest, the only thing gone was the hero worship. Gone was the unattainable idol that Nico had constantly put on a pedestal, the Percy that Nico saw now was so much more human. He was kind and sweet and an absolute dork who made it his personal mission to drive everyone up the walls with his mischief, but at the end of the day, he had everyone smiling and laughing.

And then there was Will. His first boyfriend, his first kiss, his first everything. Jason had helped Nico accept himself but Will had shown him that he wasn’t alone. That what he once considered to be one of his darkest secrets, didn’t have to be hidden away. His smile lit up the room and Nico would happily spend the rest of his life counting every single freckle on Will’s body. He loved waking up next to Will in the morning and being the first that those beautiful eyes saw. Nico loved how Will always peppered him with kisses, pulling him close so that he was safely tucked in Will’s arms. Nico loved Will more than he could say.

He loved them all more than anything. It was absolutely terrifying.

Nico’s worries came rushing back to him all at once. He didn’t feel love anymore, he felt scared. What were they going to think when they found out? They’d be disgusted. How could they not be? He was in a relationship with the most wonderful boyfriend he could have imagined yet he had fallen in love with two other people. There was no doubt that Nico would lose them for good. He could maybe just not tell them but he knew that would never work. He wasn’t a good liar in the first place and they all knew him too well. Well enough that they had noticed Nico had been staring at them for far longer than normal and were starting to realize that something wasn’t right, to his growing horror.

“Nico? Angel, what’s wrong?”  Will reached out to gently take his hand, concern lacing his voice as he spoke. Of course, it had to be Will out of all of them, the Fates seemed to hate him today. Nico could feel himself panicking, his breaths getting quicker and shorter as he scrambled to find an excuse for his behavior. This only resulted in Jason and Percy becoming more alarmed. Percy reaching to grab his other hand while Jason got up in order to rub his shoulders soothingly. Nico felt the panic slowly ebb away with all the care but he was still left feeling absolutely miserable, especially with how worried the others looked. Will squeezed his hand once more, almost pleading him to tell them and Nico decided it was just best to get it over with.

“I-….I’m in love with you guys. All of you.”

So now here they were. They used to be open with each other about everything, to the point where they knew each other’s biggest dreams and darkest hopes. They used to snuggle up to each other on this very couch, unafraid on the implications of physical contact, all of them just happy to be with each other. They used to immediately offer a shoulder to cry on or an open ear willing to listen to rants if someone in their little group had a bad day, even if was caused by the most trivial matters. Now they were all closed off, their expressions blank and unreadable. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, too scared to bridge the gap between them. Nico was having what felt like the worst day of his life and he knew he’d get no comfort. Why should he? He was the reason they were all like this. Will was still holding him, but how could Nico expect comfort from him. He’d betrayed Will in the worst way. He was surprised that Will could even stand to be near him right now. Nico knew they needed to talk but he didn’t want to. What was going to happen to them? To all of them? Would Percy and Jason distance themselves from him now? Would Will break up with him over this? The thought of losing the three people he cared most for hit Nico with such an intense wave of pain that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. It bubbled up and spilled out of him, starting with a small sniffle before it became full out sobs, Nico desperately trying to wipe them away. He didn’t want the others to pity him, but once again the Fates sneered down upon him and three heads turned towards him with panicked expressions. Suddenly Percy and Jason were scrambling over to Nico’s side in a rush to comfort him while Will held him impossibly tight, all of them speaking over one another.

“Wait no, don’t be upset-”

“Nico, it’s not as bad as you think-”

“Oh darling, there’s no need to cry…”

“I love you too.” They spoke in unison, only to blink and look at each other in surprise. After that, it was if a barrier had broken and suddenly they were confessing their love to each other as well. Jason and Percy. Will and Jason. Percy and Will. All of them looked as if a weight had been lifted off their shoulders, now smiling and happy. Nico had never felt more muddled.

“But…but how…? How can you all love each other, isn’t that…? Isn’t a relationship only supposed to be two people..?” He asked meekly, shrinking back away when he was met with looks of confusion. Will seemed to be the first to understand Nico’s distress, taking his hands to squeeze them reassuringly.

“Neeks, angel, relationships don’t have to consist of only two people. You can have three or four or however many you want. It’s called polyamory.” He explained softly.

“Polyamory is about having intimate, loving relationships with multiple people. As long as everyone has given their consent and their boundaries are respected then it’s perfectly okay.” Percy chimed in while Jason gently ran his fingers through his hair.

“It can be a little bit complicated at first and we may have some difficulties since we’ve never done this before, but as long as we’re willing to cooperate and support each other, then I know we can make it work. If you want to, that is.” Jason added. Nico swallowed thickly, looking at the three boys around him with expressions that were nothing but open and honest and loving, and for the first time today, Nico felt like everything was going to be okay. He gave them a small nod and the resulting smiles made his heart beat wildly.

They spent the next few hours talking more about polyamory and their feelings for each other, making sure that everyone was in agreement about being in a relationship together. It was a conversation filled with romantics and confessions and rules and boundaries, and in general, was very emotionally draining. All of them were tired by the end of it so it was a unanimous decision to build a pillow fort in the living room and cuddle each other. They still were still things that needed to be worked out and there was still stuff that Nico didn’t understand very well but looking around at his three new boyfriends, all giggling tiredly and fighting over the blanket, Nico couldn’t wait for what tomorrow held in store for them.

[just-some-yandere-writer]

Hey, could I please get some yandere Tanjiro x reader along with the lines of 'If you loved me you'd let me go' and you can weave your magic and form a fic if you wish. Thank you and I hope you have a great day 💖

▶ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪʟᴇ . . .

▶ ꜰɪʟᴇ ʟᴏᴀᴅᴇᴅ .

▶ ꜰɪʟᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ : Tanjirou x Reader

▶ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : Obsessive behavior, reader is contained. Tanjirou is kind of delusional. Slight violence. Yandere themes. Cursing.

▶ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ : I love Tanjirou so much. Like genuinely, he makes me so happy. Such a lovely boy.

▶️ Mod: Maven

Your eyes flew open as you sat up quickly. You were sweating up a storm. Your hands flew to your head and your eyes closed. It felt as if you had ran face first into a tree. You tried to remember what could have happened to make your head feel like that. Opening your eyes you looked around the room. Your eyes widened and you gasped when you saw Tanjirou sitting on the bed looking at you. His eyes showed that of worry. You shuffled back as your memory came back.

-

You glared down at your bloodied hands. You had tried to escape through a window but found out that they were reinforced with mental bars. You had sighed in frustration before punching the wall several times out of anger. You went to punch something again, when Tanjirou burst in the door. He was breathing heavy and his expression was wild. You panicked and his your hands behind your back.

“(Name), what happened, Darling? I smell blood.” Tanjirou took a step forward which causes you to take yet another step back. His eyes soften and he holds his hands out infront of him as if trying to calm a wild animal. The thought pissed you off and you clenched dug your nails in your palms. You glared down at your feet as hot tears of anger bubbled over your bottom eyelids. He took that as a sign to begin slowly approaching you, carefully. Once you could see his feet, you looked up at him with hatred. His eyes widened as your threw your fist and punched him in the nose. He stumbled back and clutched his nose that was now bleeding.

You pushed him back out of the way and ran for the door. Once you reached the door, you took a right and scrambled down a short hallway which lead to a larger room, probably some type of family room. You realized he had you locked in a medium-sized cabin. Panicking, you stopped and quickly examined the room. At the other end of the large room was a door with a small window that showed the outside. You smiled, and began to run to the door. Behind you was Tanjirou who had recovered his shock and was running after you.

Slamming open the door, the door you waste no time stepping on the small porch. You had almost touched the freshly fallen snow when an two arms grabbed you by the chest and began to drag you back into the house. You struggled and screamed as he yanked you back into the house. “NO, NO, LET ME GO. YOU MONSTER. LET ME GO. PLEASE, PLEASE,” you cried and cried. He hauled you back into the room, threw you on the ground and shut the door. Crawling on you to straddle your waist, he held your hands to the ground as you struggled and thrashed around.

Tanjirou gritted his teeth, “Darling, please, please calm down. It’s okay, no ones going to hurt you I promise, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” He smiled down at you. Glaring at him, you gritted your teeth and cursed him out. “You’re delusional, and fucking stupid and pathetic.” His face shrunk back into a horrified expression before falling into a disappointed but angry expression. “Darling, I didn’t want to do this but you leave me no choice. I’m sorry, Love. This might hurt,” he stared down at you in pity. That shut you up real quick. Your eyes widened in fear and you begun to stutter in question. He closed his eyes, and bent his head backwards. Begun to thrash again, and began to scream and cry. “No, no, Tanjirou pl-.” He jerked his head forward, making it hit yours and you were out cold.

-

Tanjirou sniffled and perked up when he noticed you were awake. His eyes were blood shot and there were tear trails on his cheeks. He scooted to you, and took your bandaged hands in his on. Your breathing sped up and fear consumed you. You began to shake and you flinched when he touched you. His expression shriveled into sadness. “I’m sorry, Darling. I didn’t want to hurt you. You left me no choice. You were going to leave! I tried to calm you down, but you wouldn’t listen.” He pleaded with you as he held your hands gently. Tears began to fall from your eyes. “Darling, please forgive me. I love you so much. So so so much. I can’t take it if your mad at me forever. Please, my love.” You looked away.

“If you loved me, you’d let me go.” His body froze in shock. He smiled sadly at you. “Darling, I can’t let you leave. It’s too dangerous out there. I can protect you in here. You’ll never have to worry about anything. I’m sorry, My love. I can’t let you go, you can’t leave me.” He pulled your hands to his face and kissed the busted knuckles. “I promise, you’ll love it here. And eventually you’ll love me. It’s okay if you don’t right now, I understand. Eventually, you’ll realize that everything I do, I do for you. I love you so much and I’ll protect until the day I die. We’ll be together forever. Me and you.” He moved his hands to the sides of your face and kissed your forehead gently. Rubbing your temples, he smiled down at you.

You were his, and he had to protect you. If that meant keeping you locked away forever, so be it.

This is really short, but I don’t think it’s that bad. :) Thanks for requesting. <3 - Maven

[renorasims]

Wedding CAS Collection (BGC).

OMG this took me a lot of blood, sweat and tears! haha! It was also a lot of fun of course! Its a true labor of love! Every piece was creating with lots of love, precision and dedication. I hope you guys enjoy this set! it contains 9 items. DOWNLOAD link below the cut (for possible future updates).

I made this collection to celebrate the 250 patron’s milestone. Your support means the world to me, its what keeps me motivated to continue creating CC.

I also want to thank @mauvemorn​ for some pointers on vertex paint and weights, thank you for your help over at s4s forum! <3

The collection has a special 18 color palette but every item has its own twist/take on that palette. The white swatch looks super bright in CAS, this is not the case in-game!

NOTE; Its a zip-file. Please unzip properly and drag the packages files into your mods folder. Do not drag the zip file into your mods folder!

the Wedding CAS Collection Vol 1 contains;

Classic Taste Dress | Adult Female | 27 Swatches.

Flowergirl Dress | Child Female | 36 Swatches

Beautiful Layers Dress | Adult Female | 27 Swatches.

Test of Friendship Dress | Adult Female | 26 Swatches.

Aphrodite Dress | Adult Female | 27 Swatches.

Sleek Chic Dress | Adult Female | 18 Swatches.

Dentelle Bodysuit (Gloves) | Adult Female | 24 Swatches.

Gentlemen's Suit | Adult Male | 23 Swatches.

Flower Flutter Dress | Adult Female | 18 Swatches.

BGC | Maxis Match | Proper Flags | All LOD’s | New Specular, Shadow and Bump-map | Custom Thumbnail | Within EA’s Polycount | Original Mesh credits; EA | PSD Included | Disabled for random.

DOWNLOAD (No Adfly) | Patreon | Donate

Please always download through my own website! Not third parties. You might have to wait 180 sec due to their advertisement policies… which can be dangerous ads (ransomware, etc) which is totally unnecessary! Please only spread my original post with the original link. Thank you!

Updates log: this set is fully up-to-date!

[pyroclaststan]

CW: body horror, gore, graphic depictions of injuries, Nanosurge event

The two of you had been running and you made it so far—you were going to get away, you were going to make it, but then Syrah started screaming.

She hit the ground flailing, howling, peeling apart. It was like her skin was disappearing from her limbs, and she kept yelling, pieces of her mouth starting to disappear, too.

There are no words you could ever use to describe the noise of someone gargling on blood and bile and those things as they ate through her lungs and chest and throat.

To describe the sight of your lifelong best friend sloughing apart and disappearing before your very eyes as she tries to scream and call out, only to be unmade.

In her final throws she reached out for you.

It hurt.

Now it feels like burning, and stinging, and itching all at once.

You cannot look away as the horror settles into you, freezing you in place. You watch as your left leg peeled, layer by layer, and eaten like the many before you—like the many around you.

It hurts, but you cannot scream, you cannot sob: you saw how they got into your best friend’s mouth that way. It ended quicker for her than the others but you do not want an end at all.

You kick the remnants of your leg in futility, as if to shake them off with sheer willpower as they eat their way closer. It’s all you can do. The swarm on you is multiplying; you see them like a hive of ants, now beginning to eat away at your fingers.

No one will be coming for you.

There is a chorus of screams a few yards away.

“NO!” a bloodcurdling howl of a voice echoes out.

It is the wretched, horrible scream of someone desperate out there, and your head whips around for the source despite your situation. Someone is close enough that they might see you—you might live.

Further across the field three—no, a body, just two—of the Rangers are gathered. One of them is actually not a Ranger at all but that vigilante you’ve seen, Sidestep, who is standing over the writhing form of Marshal Charge, hands out.

In the fields around you, you see the swarms of those creatures coalesce and gather, all stopping mid air before moving towards Sidestep, floating up and over their head like a rippling ball of shimmering black water. A river Styx of souless little creatures.

Looking down you realise that your leg is no longer being flayed by the microscopic monsters, flesh and bone gone like it was never there; your hands shake as you desperately peel off your shirt to tie around the stump, hoping through your panic it stems the bleeding as your adrenaline fades. You’ve never done anything like this before—your hands are shaking awfully. Blood loss and possible shock making you run cold.

In the few minutes more that follow the pause of those things, as you clutch what’s left of you, you hear more screams and the sounds of heavy footsteps: everyone left is being evacuated and before you know it Charge himself is beside you, scooping you into his arms before sprinting along with the crowds of survivors as if he weren’t screaming earlier. You were just close enough that he saw you; you clench his shoulders with your tremoring hands, unable to stop the tears that pour down your sweating skin. You’ve never known death this closely. You don’t know if your fear or relief is greater.

Surrounding the two of you are the desperate, the pleading, the injured, but you cannot tear your eyes away from their target to see all of them. Your hearing is muffled by a ringing of tinnitus, even as Charge hands you over to another person before running back to save others struggling out there. As all the heroes get to work while they have this new advantage.

You can’t stop watching Sidestep.

They stand there, alone, hands held to the sky as if to hold a barrier around the writhing mass of murderers. You think of the class last week: the Titan Atlas holding up the heavens. You see the way their arms and legs shake, muscles sure to be straining, their heavy breaths under their super-suit. There is no dramatic lighting or music to highlight their effort, this dire situation is all too real. They’re too close to those swarms but they don’t budge an inch, a hand coming to their head as they let out a bellow of pain.

The man holding you is trying to flee with you, but you can’t stop twisting in his arms—you need to see this: you need to witness what Sidestep is doing, what Sidestep has done. Someone needs to remember that they are alone amongst those… demons.

Others are watching too, crying, and after some time when Sidestep’s knee buckles and their hands fall to brace themself the entire crowd flinches as one. The swarm wavers looking like they might escape and spread again, but Sidestep’s hand quickly rises back up and they fall back into their synchronised swim. The terror is palpable, the air is thick, the smells of the dead nauseating in the breeze, but you all cannot stop watching. Even the reporters are keeping a silent vigil, unable to believe any of this.

A hero is saving you.

Time passes and you’ve all huddled together, taking care of each other, locating family, slipping out silent prayers. A nurse who was among the survivors has helped you with your leg so far: medical should be arriving soon, you won’t be saving that leg. You might have lost too much blood, or you will. She’s just waiting for the shock to set it now, holding your hand so you’re not alone through it.

But you don’t care because out there so many have lost more than you. Others are still fighting so you all don’t lose more, even now. And one is stemming the tide.

Charge is behind Sidestep as they keep on despite being brought to their knees and struggling, posted like a sentry but gripping his own arm, and you can almost make out the look of abject horror on his face as he watches the swarm hovering before them; small flickers of static arcs when the hive moves or breaks synchronisation.

Medical has arrived and you are being carted off to a rescue vehicle while containment is still on the way, but you still don’t look away—you can’t look away. It has been hours and they are shaking and they are struggling but they are holding. You burn that sight into the back of your head before the ambulance doors close. Your hero.

Your dream always ends there: you were gone before they’d collapsed. Before it was over.

———

Today is the anniversary of that awful day; the persistent nightmare that haunts even your days through all the scars. It’s hard to go outside most days, hard to watch the news and catch a glimpse of that silver woman that scares you so much. It’s hard to do much of anything that isn’t sitting locked in your workspace, building, tinkering, or fixing. But this day is an exception to all those great fears.

You stop by the florist with the modded hand: she remembers the day as well as you, sometimes the two of you talk about it while you work on her hand. She’s bundling up Syrah’s yearly bouquet, handpicking each flower by some meanings you’ve never gotten around to learning about them, stopping only to help a haggard looking man she also seems to know well with a bundle of white chrysanthemums. You can smell the alcohol on him from here, but that’s none of your business: today is a hard day for more people than you and Maritsa.

She tells you to give her love to your old friend; she never goes herself, no matter how much time passes. She lost too much to that nightmare—a wife, two kids, some family.

Your eyes linger on one of the few white chrysanthemums that man left behind, scratching the scar tissue buildup on your finger’s skin weave, something telling you to pick one of those up, too. Her garden hardy mums cost a lot but you know anything she grows in her greenhouse is well worth the price.

Heading out with your newspaper bouquet in hand, you fall into step with the Los Diablos crowds, easily able to pick out who in the crowd is headed the same way as you. You can see it in their heavy steps and weighted shoulders and you wonder if you show it, too.

The memorial isn’t a plot of headstones—too many were lost for that—but instead a large stone and steel wall, covered from one end to another with names and birthdays of victims. Flowers, candles, teddy bears, liquor, and photos rest on the ground here every year, and every year the crowd and offerings grow smaller. Everyone eager to forget.

You take your place in front of Syrah’s name, fingers sliding quietly against the stone that’s too cold for having sat in Diablos’ heat as long as it has. To your right you see Desiderio placing his usual marigolds—also from Maritsa’s—against the stone, then falling into prayers as he always does. The flowers in your hands begin to feel too heavy so you set them down, quietly sit in prayer with Desi, and hold each other once the tears that always come arrive.

It’s a small, distant family you’ve made out of this place and the only other people who could understand your loss; no matter how much time passes between gatherings you all know you have each other. But you cannot stay all day, lost in the memories: you have one more important stop to make.

At the gates of your destination a man in a grey hoodie and a larger man in a blue one passes you, and once again you are hit by a wave of booze. Looking after them, you notice the back of the smaller, hunched over one: it’s that man again, being escorted by someone you hope is his friend. A few moments more and you draw in a deep breathe, gathering resolve before heading in.

So here you are at yet another memorial. Not the memorial to that scarred, barren earth you pointedly avoid looking at but the memorial to the hero you’d lost, gone after another even that shook the city to its core before they ended it. The hero this entire city lost. The dark headstone that’s all that’s left of Sidestep.

The black and teal hoodie you’ve worn in over the years always feel likes the only thing appropriate to wear as you sit here, sitting before the looming stone in your usual spot, staring at the bundle of white flowers and the half-full beer can beside it. Chrysanthemums bundled up with Maritsa’s trademark twine. A smaller bunch of white lilies next to it, from somewhere else. That man’s modded friend maybe; you know the signs like you know the smell of the dead. All too well.

You scratch the phantom itch crawling along the former calf and thigh of your modded leg, unable to chase away the ghost of a life past. Unable to turn back the clock. Unable to say thank you.

You set your flowers down next to that man’s, hoping that he found peace in his visit here like you do. Hoping that someone’s there to help him through that event and its scars, too. You really hope that was a friend.

The picture of your masked hero is peeling from all the rain and heat, the flowers and offerings dwindling as folks try to forget those terrible events, but you remain. Year after year.

Living is the only thanks you can give them.

[zutaraangtastic]

If you’re still doing drabbles, here’s an idea: Nightmares and comfort afterwards. While it’s most common for Zuko and to a lesser extent, Aang, I think it would be so sweet to see Katara being comforted and tended to by her husbands. Of course, no offense will be taken if you’re done with drabbles or not interested in the prompt.

Final drabble! Warning for violence and temporary character death - nightmare stuff, as you might guess. I hope the comfort makes up for the hurt! (Reminder that we are not accepting new prompts; we received these before July 1.) - Mod J

The igloo seems impossibly big before her, its white sheen stained with the ash raining from the heavens. The snow is up to her knees, as small as she is, and the sounds of war clamor for attention behind her: the men shouting, the sickening swish of the burning catapults, the hiss of fire devouring everything in its path.

Katara hesitates outside, trying to breach the chasm of dread in her stomach and force herself to enter, knowing what awaits her.

At least, she thinks she knows, until something happens that’s never happened before: a boy comes flying out through the blue curtains with a horrible scream, flung by a red flare inside that she barely glimpses. She runs to where he’s collapsed in the snow, his shaking hands covering his face. 

Through the cracks in his fingers, she sees the raw, seared flesh, and gasps.

He’s dressed just like the other Fire Nation soldiers, but he’s too young, his armor too big for his shoulders. His head is bare except for a disheveled ponytail. He’s hurt, badly.

These things she takes in, paralyzed, before it registers in the back of her mind that she can do something. She can heal. 

Or, she should be able to, but her tiny hands don’t seem to work the way they should; their grasp on the water is too unsteady, and when they reach for his face, he screams again, his fist lashing out in a flaming arc. Katara drops onto her belly, trembling with her eyes squeezed shut, until the near-brush of heat subsides. 

When she peeks up to make sure she’s safe, she notices the overcast sky has changed color, now a murky blood-red crossed by a trail of blazing orange light. 

Then the boy slumps back down, and Katara scrambles away, leaving him to writhe in his agony and returning to her own task with just enough bitter determination to overcome her fear.

In the igloo, she finds a different man than she expects, this one’s armor adorned with gold, a semblance of wings framing his helmet when he glances over his shoulder at her. There’s another boy, too, a boy in simple orange-and-yellow monk’s robes. He’s even smaller than her, his legs kicking pitifully as the Fire Nation man holds him aloft by the collar.

“You’re too late, little peasant,” the man says, an oil-slick voice dripping with malice. “The Avatar is mine.”

It doesn’t make sense, because how can that kid be the Avatar? His tattoos would be glowing white, a radiant, otherworldly bluish-white like she saw in the iceberg when she found him, and that’s the thing that snaps Katara back to herself—the boy, Aang, doesn’t have any tattoos. He’s too young to have earned them yet.

He looks at her with wide gray eyes, pleading for help, but she’s still too small, too weak to fling more than a puddle of water at the Fire Lord’s boots.

Wake up, she tells herself. It’s not real, wake up, it didn’t happen like this, you’re safe, they’re safe, just wake up—

But she can’t, try as she might. She can’t even look away as Ozai throws a fiery punch into Aang’s face, even as everything inside her lurches with fury, with horror, with dismay. Aang howls, the same cry that Zuko made, as instinctual and vulnerable as a wounded animal. And Zuko, spirits, Zuko’s out there alone and she has to do something!

Too much happens all at once, Ozai roaring victorious fire and the igloo crumbling all around them and a crimson cloud gathering overhead and an awful static crackling in Azula’s hands—no, Ozai’s, but familiar white-hot lightning, and he’s going to strike them at the same time and there’s no way for Katara to shield them both—

Until her waterbending returns, and without even thinking, she surges into Ozai’s blood and freezes him from the inside out. His last, choked breath comes out a red mist.

Katara falls to her knees, overwhelmed and hanging onto the adrenaline just to crawl to Aang and carry him to Zuko. She’s fully herself again, not the little girl she was when the raid happened, but the two of them are still just kids, even smaller in her grasp now. When she lays them next to each other, she notices the symmetry of their fresh burns, and a nauseous weight of understanding churns in her.

Snowmelt coats her hands in a shimmering, glowing blue, ready to heal, until she realizes neither boy’s chest is rising or falling. Katara fumbles to feel their pulses, uselessly; Zuko is too cold, no trace of fire left in him, and Aang is so still, the joyful breath that animated him stolen by the sharpening wind.

“Wake up,” she whispers, not certain who she’s talking to. She presses her palms flat to their hearts, water seeping through together with her tears, to no avail. Between her blurry eyes and the gathering storm around them, everything is growing dim.

“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up, Katara, you’re—”

She bolts upright with a sharp gasp, her head spinning in the disorienting dark of the room. Real tears are flowing sickly-hot down her cheeks, sticking wetly to her chin, even her ears. She almost can’t suck in enough air, her chest wracked with sobs, disrupting every attempt to steady herself.

“Katara,” Aang says again, and she nearly jumps, reflexively whipping water from her nearby satchel to catch the hand reaching for her in an icy grip. “Ow—Katara, it’s okay! It’s just me. It’s me.”

To the other side of Aang, Zuko stirs, mumbling in confusion. Katara barely has the presence of mind to return the water to its container before she throws herself into Aang, wrapping her arms tightly around him. With her ear pressed to his chest, she can hear his heartbeat, feel his breathing like the rush of a sea breeze. A tentative hand meets hers on Aang’s back, and she raises her head to Aang’s shoulder to look at Zuko, twining her fingers with his. His skin is warm, faintly damp with sweat. He reaches behind him to light the candle on the bedside table with a snap, and the soft orange glow haloes around him, permeating the shadows of the room.

Aang presses a kiss to the top of Katara’s head, cupping her cheek and brushing away the tears on one side. “Was it a nightmare?” he asks.

She can only nod, not trusting herself to speak. He folds her into his embrace just a little harder.

“I get them too, around this time of year,” he admits. When she remains silent except for her sniffles, he adds softly, “Ones where we lose. Or we win but I lose you, or Zuko.”

“That makes three of us,” Zuko says, his voice hushed. He turns his face against her hand, the scarred side. It’s one of the most intimate gestures they share, open and vulnerable, but this time it makes Katara flinch, half-expecting raw, oozing skin in place of the long-healed tissue. Zuko catches her recoil and draws back himself, his brow furrowed with uncertain concern. “Sorry, I can…leave you with Aang, if that’s better?”

Katara shakes her head quickly and extends her arm, beckoning him to her side instead. Aang shifts with her towards the middle of the bed to make room. Zuko still hesitates, sitting beside Katara with his knees drawn up.

“I understand if it was about—I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to see me right now.”

“Zuko,” Aang says, half-regret and half-reprimand, at the same time that Katara takes Zuko by the shoulder and pulls him into their hug.

Hoarsely, she manages to say, “That wasn’t it.”

A patient quiet presides over them as Zuko’s arms finally settle around her waist and Aang’s fingers wind through her hair. Katara’s breathing eventually evens out, her tears slowing. There’s still an awful feeling inside her, a violent terror in the pit of her stomach.

“It was…” She steels herself, curling one fist so her nails bite crescents into her palm, until Aang stops her gently. Katara picks a spot on the far wall to keep her attention and continues, “It was like the nightmare I always have, about my mom. But Yon Rha wasn’t there, and neither was she. It was the two of you—” she lays her other hand over Zuko’s and squeezes his knuckles, hearing his apprehensive swallow “—and Ozai. And he…burned you, and you were so young—we were, and then I wasn’t, but you both were just kids and you were helpless and hurt and I couldn’t do anything before it was too late and—”

The panic is rising in her chest again, threatening to overflow, and Zuko tries to hold tighter to ground her, but it’s too much, Aang’s look of frantic worry is too much, and Katara suddenly needs not to be touched or she might break something. She hurriedly disentangles herself and slides away to sit at the edge of the bed, raising a hand to let Aang and Zuko know to give her space.

After a moment, she manages to quell the nausea, her gasps fading. She’s crying again, but her eyes are too dry now, making it harder to get the tears out. Mostly, she’s annoyed by the thought of how puffy her face will be in the morning, and how much she’s overreacting in front of Zuko and Aang. Katara lets out a shuddering exhale and stands, smoothing down her nightgown and going to open the window. The tang of the ocean clears her head, blessedly wakes her from the nightmarish haze. The half-moon tilted low in the sky is serene.

She gives a silent thanks to Yue before she looks back at her husbands, who lean together on the bed, obviously trying to seem calm despite the visible tension in their joined hands. It makes Katara smile weakly and gesture for them to follow her. They pad to the kitchen together on three sets of tiptoeing feet, extra careful as they pass Bumi and Kya’s room.

Zuko puts on a pot of tea without being asked, and Katara pulls herself up on the counter beside him with a strained noise that immediately reminds her she’s too old for it. Aang suppresses a laugh and approaches, after she nods, to massage her lower back.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to push you guys away.”

Zuko scoffs, though not meanly, giving Katara a skeptical eye. “Why are you sorry? We’re the ones who didn’t do anything to help.”

Katara kicks his thigh, though not hard. “Don’t say that. It helped that you were both there with me. If I was alone, or even if it was just me and Aang, I would’ve been so anxious.”

Aang bows his head against her chest, his sigh brushing against fabric. “Still, it’s—it’s hard, not being able to make things better. I guess that’s what your dream was like, too?”

“Yeah,” Katara says, but before she can start dwelling on it again, Zuko ushers her and Aang away from the counter so he can finish preparing the tea.

He brings it to them at the table with a generous helping of milk stirred in, and it’s exactly the right thing to soothe the lingering unease in her stomach. Aang sits across from her, leaving Zuko the spot next to her. Katara leans her head on his shoulder after she downs her cup, willing away the flashes of lightning on the backs of her eyelids.

“You think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” Zuko asks. His foot is tangled with hers and Aang’s under the table.

“I think so.” Katara offers him a smile and a peck on the cheek. “The tea helped, Mr. Jasmine Dragon Jr.”

“Speaking of, when are you heading off to see Uncle?” Aang asks.

Zuko has abandoned his own cup in favor of playing with Katara’s hair, gathering it into haphazard braids that she subtly shakes out as soon as he looks away. “I’ll stay here another few days, at least.”

“Good,” she says. “We’ll have each other if anyone has another anniversary nightmare.”

Leaving their dishes at their places, they find their way back to bed. Katara claims the middle this time. She’s on her side, facing the moon and Zuko, with Aang’s sturdy chest against her back. Touch is welcome now. Aang spends a long time tracing patterns on her back, continuing his earlier massage as he goes, until he starts to drift off.

“Let us know if you need anything,” he says, stifling a yawn and kissing her cheek.

“Mm. There is one thing, actually,” Katara murmurs. “Your head wasn’t shaved before you were banished, was it, Zuko?”

Zuko’s brow furrows, but he shakes his head. “No. I mean, it was after the agni kai, but before I left.”

“And Aang didn’t get his tattoos until he was twelve.”

Aang confirms this with a sleepy mumble addressed to the back of her head. Zuko is kneading her leg, her hip, her side, working the last tension out of her muscles.

“Why do you ask?”

“That’s how I know it wasn’t real,” Katara says, blinking slowly at him. “That’s how I’ll remember, if it happens again.”

Consciously or not, Aang curls his arm more protectively around her stomach. Zuko lets her pillow her cheek in his palm and eases closer to kiss her. She drapes her leg over his to keep him there, his warm breath mingling with hers and his other hand resting over her back. Once he’s joined Aang in slumber, her eyes finally fall shut. Their hands are soft, tangible, and the sharpest burning details of the nightmare start to fade to cinders at the edges of her mind.

[san-station]

A Quiet Place AU / ATEEZ (Post-apocalyptic)

Chapter 7

 ↝Word count: 5336 

Description: In a world full of silence and dangerous creatures seeking for blood, a group of friends have to survive for their own good and find the safe place they’ve heard about months ago.

Pairing: OC x San

WARNING: cursing, mention of death, angst, ANGST, AAAANGST. 

A/N: This took me forever because even though I’m on college vacations, work makes my head empty… and I’m not proud of it ;(. Hopefully, chapter 8 will turn out better! 

・・・・・・・・

Kids playing to be adults

When the basement door opened, I had a sad smile on my face and I was clinging to Hongjoong’s arm as he whispered the story about our time in the woods and how we found out about Wonderland, the promising land that expected us on the other side of our road. We’d been walking for weeks in the vast woods, hiding ourselves from the recent attack we had from a unknown group of rebels that wanted our food, clothes and, if we were lucky, they’ll leave us alone, but that day was one of the worst. The group leader, a guy who name I think was “Coups” refused to let us go without having some fun, and by fun I mean taking Misuk, Byol, or me, the only girls around, into hell. When he took Byol away from us, she struggled with the guy’s grip and managed to escape, but, unfortunately, Coups happened to be faster, agile and also evil. A blink later, Byol had a sharp knife nailed on the side of her neck and her eyes went backwards, full white. Coups had a hand over her mouth to quiet the noises she’d make. Blood started to flow quickly outside her body, splashing Coups face with its burgundy color and warm steam. The other group had now more members than us, thus my friends were being hold on by the rebels, incapable of saving her or any of us. 

When Coups rested the lifeless body on the wet mod carefully and gestured to reach for Misuk, the tan boy, Lucas, wrestled in a rebels arms and tossed him on the ground with a thump noise, everybody tensed and Lucas started to signed with trembling hands. 

“Stop! Don’t hurt anyone else, please…”, Lucas’ face was shocked, he was one of the strongest of us, he would always take care of his friends and, when the apocalypse started, he was devastated that he couldn’t safe his family, forthemore, he decided to protect his new family, us. The air in his lungs traveled as fast as it got there, sweat started to roll down his forehead and his eyes looked between Byol’s body, the leader, Misuk and me.  

“I can’t take an offer if I’m not winning anything in exchange”, Coups approached and capture Misuk’s wrist, she didn’t flinch at all, keeping a straight face. 

“Take me instead! I- I’m strong, I can carry things!”, Lucas tried again, stepping forward cautiously with hands in the air. The rebels looked at their leader waiting for his commands. Coups glanced at the tan boy from head to toe.

Like a flash, Coups took out of his back a .48 gun fully loaded and pointed it to the tall boy’s direction, he whispered: “Do you know how to use this?”

Lucas nodded hastily as he stood before us, blocking Coups’ sight. That was the day last day we saw Lucas, tears streamed down almost everyone’s eyes as we parted ways due to his sacrifice. I never got the chance to thank him nor say goodbye, they just vanished quickly and left us wandering around. 

Days later, we found a place near a river guarded by a couple of old ladies and a young boy called Jeongin. They took us for the night while we rested in a warm place with a roof. It had been a while since we had a roof over our heads when we slept. That night, Jeongin told us a story about a group of ladies that passed by days before talking about a new safe place, they called it “Wonderland” as if it was made for those who still believed in a world where noise fills your ears with joy, laughter, real voices and isolated you from fear and danger, that was our basement for us, we could talk freely after a few arrangements and for the past six months we were truly happy. 

Although, nothing lasts forever and food was running out, we started to racionate water and medicine. When Hongjoong noticed that, we had a discussion one night while everyone was eating. He made us all promise to get safe to the place where our hopes could finally be tangible, where food lasted and had variety, where we could love, laugh, stop worrying about the creatures around ready to slaughter our weak and tired bodies.

Hongjoong closed the door behind him and the room fell silent; Yeosang, San and Wooyoung gathered in the kitchen while they whispered with concerned eyes something I couldn't catch. There was no sight of the rest, so I decided to ignore them as I believed they would have the same behavior as Hongjoong before our talk. 

Joong walked next to them and they exchanged a strange glance. The air felt heavy, their bodies were alert at any moves I could make and you could cut the tension with a knife if you wanted. San cleared his throat when I walked next to them looking for the kettle and the leafs for the tea, I rolled my eyes when Yeosang avoided my eyes.

“I hope he’s doing fine”, I broke the awkward silence in the room and the guys jerked up in surprise. I missed Lucas, he was a living party in this hell, easy-going, gentle, a good friend. We will always remember how he exchanged his life for ours. 

"Ehm…", Hongjoong thought for a minute asking himself why would I said that before comprehend the idea. "I'm pretty sure he's fine, Lucas is a strong man and knows how to take care of himself", I handle him the kettle and opened a jar of jam almost empty to spread some on my right finger.

A few breaths later and shared glances, Wooyoung mumbled "she needs to know" a little bit too loud to let me understand the words. San sighed as Yeosang shook his head in denial. I turned to face them with pursed lips and raised an eyebrow as my body reflected hot steam from my upset mind.

“Quit the fucking act and tell me what’s wrong”, I sighed desperate. Having them staring at every movement I made was making me go insane, I was treated like their prey in the isolated clearing part of the forest, easy to hunt. The black haired boy flinched and turned his head to the other side. Wooyoung gulped and closed his eyes for a second. He then stepped closer and places his hands on my shoulders.

“What?”, my eyebrows knitted, San scratches the back of his neck, Yeosang sat on the couch pissed of, Hongjoong put the kettle down and looked at the basement door for something to happen.  

“We were supposed to wait until we all went down the basement again, but I know you’ll be hella mad at them for this…”, suddenly, Wooyoung made me sit on the couch next to Yeosang and took a deep breath. The tickling sensation in the middle of my chest started to emerge from the bottom of my body, confusion was all written on my face as Hongjoong and San approached a few steps near us. 

And like a bullet colliding unexpectedly into my flesh, Hongjoong spoke slowly painfully. 

“Jongho went to the abandoned city like an hour ago…”

Hold your horses… 

“What…?”, I barely said, the air in my lungs left entirely as my eyes pierced Honjoong’s pupils severely. Wooyoung moved uncomfortably on his spot, avoiding my eyes. “...Why?”, I spoke again with knitted eyebrows and dry lips. 

“The little brat wanted to keep the search. A week has passed….”, San’s voice sounded like an echo now. Why would they let him go? Why would they allow the younger boy go straight to his own death? I… I don’t understand shit. 

“Yeah, a week of a non-existing Jongho... I barely sensed him”, Wooyoung added playing with his hands, maybe he didn’t really know where to put them or it was just anxiety. 

“You all know why he wanted to go there…”, I left out a sigh. Leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, I hid my face in my hands at the same time my skin began to warm. “I can’t believe you agreed to this.”

“You were the first one saying to let him go,” Yeosang finally spoke since we came back to the basement, his face unreadiably. “You said we needed to let him be himself and not to hold him in here after Misuk’s death, Jiyeong”, he spatted a little too harsh gaining stearns from Hongjoong and San. Wooyoung just wanted to avoid all of this knowing too well the end of the conversation.

“I never thought he will really go out there!”, exasperation started to boil inside me, and it was noticing due the tone of my voice. “It could take him a whole day before even found the place that happened! You just let him go to his own death!”, I groaned and stood up of the couch, hands sweating and heart pumping insanely into my ears. 

“He’s well aware of that, he won’t do anything stupid!” Wooyoung tried to eased the heavy air surrounding the place, he really tried, yet we knew it was going to be impossible with the characters discussing. 

“And if he does, he’ll end up like Misuk and a trillion of other people, that’s the course of life”, Yeosang was on his two feet now in the other side of the room serving himself a glass of water. My lips trembled as I was barely containing myself from the rage, he always had that facility to say things without affecting him, he seemed so nonchalant about death, about love, about fun, about every fucking thing in this life…I cleared my throat and rather watch the others’ faces than his. 

“Who’s with him? Yunho? Hwa?”, I asked fisting my hands. Did Seonghwa accept to go along Jongho and show him the place where we bury her? Was he ready to do that?

“Mingi”, San replied after a long sigh and I looked him back with panic written all over my face.

“What the fuck?!”

“He insisted”, he explained scratching the back of his neck. Wooyoung whispered something to Yeosang and Hongjoong tapped his food nervously on the floor. 

“Do you realize their chances are low, right? They need protection, our protection”, a faint of sore throat started to appear when my voice came out stronger than I thought. I felt like the mother of naughty children running after them and scolding them one by one. 

“They’ll be fine, Ji, they’re adults. Stop worrying”, the black haired boy responded one more time, almost like a mumble. 

“Fuck you, San, I can’t just...  back off from this! Jongho is going to Misuk’s death spot and all he’s gonna find is nothing but dust. We-”

The basement door opened suddenly making me jump from surprise. All five heads turned to that direction just to find Yunho and Seonghwa carrying some firewood and water. 

“We started the fire on the watchtower so the others around would be more careful”, Seonghwa stated and Hongjoong patted his shoulder. Yunho joined us by sitting on the couch with a tired face. 

I frowned hearing that new, every time silence engulfed the basement, my heart beats became louder and faster to a point that made me dizzy. 

“You were saying…” Hongjoong muttered gesturing me to keep talking. I blinked a few times and licked my lips. Seonghwa looked at me with a frowned, I just ignored it. 

“We moved what was left of her body…”, I sighed and watched a specific black spot on the ground, not knowing what type of faces the guys would make to that information. “We buried her in a better place, somewhere to be missed and honoured.” My hands found their place into my jean pockets and I closed my eyes, maybe I could calm my heart taking deep breaths. 

So I did.  

“Where’s that?”, that question… that fucking question that I didn’t want to answer. 

“Near Lee’s Valley…”, Seonghwa spoke after he realized I wasn’t going to say it out loud. 

“You carried a dead body to Lee’s Valley without us?! Are you fucking crazy?!” Wooyoung’s calming presence just left the chat and we welcomed the angry and enraged Woo. 

“Nothing happened”, simply as that, Hongjoong had a concerned look on his face, San nibbled the skin of his left thumb while Seonghwa looked at me with sad eyes, Yeosang pressed his lips together showing angry eyes and Yunho intertwined his own hands with his elbows on his knees.  

“Don’t you ever go there again, Jiyeong. You know what they did with that boy, the freckles boy” Wooyoung warned. 

“Yongbok?” San asked with a quick look to his friend. 

“He’s alive” Hongjoong assured. 

“Cause he’s a Lee” Yunho added cooling the air. 

 “Yunho, shut up, please” Hongjoong shook his head. 

“It’s the truth, you only survive if you’re related” Yunho defended the statement and nodded. Then, he rested his back on the couch. 

“Jongho and Mingi would never find her without our help, I can’t believe you ruined everything we’ve been working this months just to let a potential prey be killed”, my nostrils let out the heavy breathes I was taking to stop me from bursting into tears, even if I wasn’t yelling, the hardness of my voice almost scared me, I wasn’t aware of how the different scenarios lived today could change my mood so sudden. San noticed the shift of my emotions and frowned.   

“He wants to pay respect to his dead girlfriend”, he mentioned taking one step in front of me. 

I needed to rest, I needed to go back to my glowing fantasy and be happy, no worries, no headaches.  Why are my eyes hurting so much? Why are they throbbing? Everything was burning.   

“When the hell did they start dating?”, I muttered becoming exhausted about that. 

“You’ll realized more about things if you weren’t so oblivious” Yeosang’s words came out bluntly, his sharp features judging every second I spoke.

“I’m concerned about the things that matter the most and you know it's surviving.”

“Well, maybe some people think that if we’re surviving, maybe we could start from zero with someone else”, he replied again leaning on the kitchen short countertop.

“Did you hear yourself right now? Did you guys heard that?”, my feet stepped closer to Yeosang, he hide a little smirk and my blood boiled. What is he trying to play? We finally decided to make peace and he’s ruining the whole fucking thing.

“We all need love, Jiyeong, even the girl obsessed with aliens knew it”, now it was San’s words that startled me.

I froze in the middle of the living room, a few steps near Yeosang, a few steps near San. 

Silence.

Everything fell silent after that and it felt awfully wrong. Why is this happening right now? Couldn’t he just wait until all of us joined him on the road? This situations complicated the whole plan, this brought the worst of all of us together. We were tense, we were worrying too much about the boys. Well, I was. We talked about leaving to Wonderland that day, why did Jongho and Mingi have to go when they knew the plan. Why was everything so difficult?

Interpersonal relationships should improve in a world full of disaster, fear and few quality of life options. People should trust each other, give everything for the other knowing that any time could become the last time... no, there is no way to think about anything other than survival, there is ... no… 

Hongjoong's eyes were switched between Yeosang and me, he wanted to prevent any other fight that was about to happen. Yeosang had the singularity of saying things very direct, without shame, without caring about others’ feelings as long as he didn’t feel affected or destroyed inside. Although, the truth could be quite the opposite and perhaps only sought attention to his own loneliness. However, my approach to the extreme of some situations was due to how fragile I used to be. Human beings can develop new masks to problems to avoid showing vulnerability, and there we were, trying to avoid buried feelings to emerge victoriously from an argument which end will always be brutal for everyone.

“I’m going out”, I said firmly. San’s hand found his way once again to my wrist. No, there is no fucking way to… no… Why does his hand feels like that…?

“You can’t! That’s why Hongjoong went to look out for you… after they left, Wooyoung heard some noises outside…”, Yunho spoke rational this time. His panicked voice made me stop on my way. Or was it they way San was looking at me with begging eyes? No, it definitely wasn’t… Shit.

“I don’t fucking care, they are in great danger and it’s your fault, so let me fix this…”

“No”, San stated this time. His gripped tighten a little more, without hurting.

“I need to fix this, please…”, that came out almost like a whimper. Seonghwa walked next to me and squeezed my arms while his big and deep blue eyes looked at me with determination. 

 “Until we can assure there's no more danger, no one gets out, clear?” he ordered calmly but certain that I’d respect the decision. 

“You can’t tell me what to do”, I yanked from his and San’s grip, finally free but not stepping aside. 

“You’re acting like a kid”, Yeosang whispered and rolled his eyes. That’s it, that’s my mark… 

“I’m acting like a kid? You are the one who rathers talk about relationships when it’s the end of the fucking world and our main priority is Wonderland!”, I turned abruptly to him almost hitting his face with the braids of my hair. Yeosang flinched but didn’t step back.

“We’ve survived for almost 500 days since the attack and people live their lives as if nothing happened, maybe we should do the same instead of pursuing a place we heard months ago”, the tip of his feet touched mine, I scoffed.

“You know what? Shit happened! Our families died, our friends died! We are so lucky to be alive right now and you just let our friends go to their death wish!”, my voice trembled at the end, getting weak at the sensation of tears forming in my eyes. 

“Both of you, calm down” Hongjoong muttered watching carefully our movements. I lowered my head, not wanting to face Yeosang’s stearn.

“I just want to fix this, I can’t let them die like I did with Misuk…”, I whispered fisting my hands and feeling the lump in my throat. I felt guilty already, this situation was also my fault. If Misuk hadn’t died that day, Jongho and Mingi would be home safe and sound with us.

“Jiyeong… you know it’s not your fault, we talked about this”, Wooyoung reassured smoothly, probably everyone was looking at me with sadness and concerned… I hated it. I wanted them to say it was indeed my fault, I really wanted to hear from them that my actions had consequences, that with every step forward I take, I go backwards thousands more. It was hideous being  the only one realizing the facts and not treating the guilty with compassion. 

“I’d rather be in her place than feeling the constant guilt eating me alive…” I heard how Yeosang clicked his tongue and left out a loud groan full of frustration.  

“Could you please behave yourself and stop being such a whining selfish bitch?”

Everyone flinched at the words that came out of his mouth. Yunho gasped in surprised while San clenched his jaw and was about to grab Yeosang’s shirt if it wasn’t for my arm hitting his chest to stop him. 

I was a little startled, yet I knew Yeosang would explode quickly at my words. I just couldn’t believe he’d call me like that. 

“What did you just say?”, I frowned and tilted my head a little to the side. Yeosang’s eyes scanned my face and pursed his lips again. 

“You’ve been such a crybaby since last week and it’s exhausting... We appreciate the care you had for Misuk, but life goes on, it’s time to grow up”, his voice was gentle this time, perhaps he noticed how rushed it came out for having everyone so dumbfounded. 

“Yeosang…” San started between his teeth, Yeosang interrupted stepping back. 

“Am I wrong? You all said this morning when she was out that she needed to calm down and be more rational about the situation”, his eyes traveled to every face in the basement, some of them had wide eyes and uneased faces. San and Seonghwa were madder than the others, though. “You said that if she wanted to keep going, she had to stop acting so depressed and be responsible for her actions.”

“We never said that!” Wooyoung suddenly interrupted with sharp tone, he was outrageous.  

“You did” San spatted, eyes never leaving Yeosang’s. 

“Nobody argued with me, tho. Nobody changed my mind, so you agreed indirectly with me that she’s being a whiny selfish girl ” Yeosang cleared, a smirk showing up in his face. 

Silence surrounded us one more time. Nobody argued with him, huh? I licked my lips slowly and stepped closer to Yeosang. He tensed for a second when the tip of our noses touched, but then, his features relax slightly as he tried to wipe a tiny tear streaming down my face. I slapped his hand and he flinched. I wasn’t calm at all and they’ve already watched my tears streamed from my face too much, so I cleaned my face quickly.

“Why won’t you go and fuck yourself...”, I firmly said watching his eyes. Yeosang retained his breath and gulped at my serious statement. 

After that,I walked away bumping into Seonghwa’s shoulder and entered the bathroom. I opened the shower so the noise of the running water would covered the talk outside. I felt my body drained with tiredness by the uptight situation, all I wanted was take care of them the way the always did with me but why was it so difficult? I sat on the cold floor resting my back on the wall next to the sink and let my mind travel with anything but Yeosang’s words. What would Haerin do…? Would we be in this situation if she was still alive? No… she was too smart, she could help us with this… I only seem strong but after 400 days of this mess, I can only be torn apart by the words of a friend… Yeosang was right, I was being a selfish bitch worrying about only surviving and not noticing the way people felt around. I always thought that keeping our feelings to us made us stronger, made us brave and unstoppable. I was wrong once again…  

I felt left alone, the voices in my head became louder and louder touching my nerves. Why all my decisions ended up so bad? Was I really that bad? How would the boys feel? How would Seonghwa feel? I never asked him how affected he was, I only knew he felt kind of anxious so far. The pressure that was on my shoulders became heavier with every step I took and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was totally unaware of my own feelings too… My main focus was Wonderland, was keeping everyone safe but at what cost? I was the last person to know about Jongho and Misuk, she had to die for me to realized it. This is so messed up. 

My sobs became stronger even if I wanted to stifle the noise with the water coming out of the shower. I felt pathetic, crying didn't change anything, my tears didn't bring Misuk back, or Lucas, or Haerin, or my family ... That's another reason why I didn't like to cry, it was useless. Eventually I would realize that I was damaging my interpersonal relationships because of my shield, that shield that tried to protect me from people who could use my vulnerability as a lethal weapon. However, I never realized that none of them would do such atrocity, except in such an extremist situation.

Two knocks on the door startled me and I turned off the shower. 

“Jiyeong?”, San’s voice came through the other side slightly. I didn’t answer.  

“Jiyeong, please, open up…”, I rested my forehead on the other side of the door and took a deep breath. 

“What do you want?”, I managed to say without a broken tone, despite the tears rolling through my face uncontrollably. 

“Can I come in?”, he asked pulling at the locked knob. My hand followed it and grabbed it strongly. 

“Can’t you use the other bathroom?”, I whispered, now a little bit quieter. 

“I don’t want to use it, I want to see you…”, he mumbled. A minute later he said louder, “shit, just open up, Ji…”, his voice transformed from gentler to an exasperated one. Before I could think, my body reacted first and unlocked the door. San entered the bathroom closing the door behind him and locking it again. I took a few steps back and sat again on the floor. San watched me do my thing and got himself comfortable by my side.

“Sorry about that…”, his hands played with the braids of his shoes while his eyes roamed the bathroom walls, he seemed nervous somehow. 

“What are you apologizing for…?”, I frowned and tilted my head to the side. His eyes met mine for a second.

“When Yeosang talked about you like that, I couldn’t say anything to defend you because-”

“Because you know it’s true…”, I finished his sentence as he left out a groan.

“I only agreed with the part of you being selfish, unaware of how people feel towards this whole end-of-the-world situation…”, his eyes met the walls again as I continue scanning his features.  

“I’m the one who feels sorry about everything…”, I whispered too caught up of his cheekbones. Did they always look that prominent? He has dark eye bags… Why does he look so tired and skinny but at the same time so full of shine and fit? I didn’t know anything about what was going on inside his mind, I never asked him how he felt or how was his day recollecting supplies. Guilt pressed my chest one more time as I understand I was a really bad person for not caring about the others around me. I blinked my watery eyes rapidly and San looked at the gesture with a sad smile. 

“Don’t be afraid to cry, Jiyeong…”, his voice always sounded so good when he had that look on his face, when he looked like he cared. 

“It doesn’t help with anything…”, I sniffed and torned my sight apart from his. He giggled and something inside me sparkled vaguely, like a soft tickle or a finger pressed into my stomach momentanly.  

“It actually work in a cathartic way, you know? It liberates you from sadness sometimes…”, why does he keep looking at me like that? What’s with that soft smile…? Saying I was confused would be an understatement, but San was a character that I couldn’t comprehend too much. He could be a very easy-going man which you can open up your heart and he’ll listen to every preoccupation you had. And sometimes he could be the Devil expecting you to die and join him in hell just to make you suffer… or maybe I was exaggerating things. Likewise, he could be gentle and a great friend, also a asshole when he wanted to act narcissist.

We remained silent for like an hour (it was actually thirty seconds), and he spoke again. 

“Yeosang is just upset, you know… after watching you with Hwa the other night and now with Hongjoong…”

“What do you mean?”, my voice came out as a whisper and San moved closer, his shoulder bumped into mine, his warmth skin felt slightly pleasant against mine. 

“Well, me too but… Yeosang is jealous”, I couldn’t find the meaning of the first phrase, yet my eyebrows knitted.

“He’s a dick, that’s what he is”, I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. San chuckled, his eyes disappearing in crescent moons. 

“Yeah, that too”, he agreed. 

“Why is he, tho…jealous I mean ”, I asked still intrigued about it. The black haired boy licked his lips and started.  

“Before everything happened, before the meteor and the monsters showed up, before silence covered the Earth and we were obligated to remain silence, Yeosang was dating someone…”, my eyes widened with the news, I would've never thought about that by myself.  “Remember when he was talking with someone over the phone one of the nights at the church and he started to breath like if he was having asma?”, I nodded. “Well, he heard them dying on the other side of the line…” 

“W-what…”, a gasp escaped my mouth in surprise. How would he...-?

“Yeosang’s upset because he knows you have opportunities but won’t give it a chance…”, San’s eyes rested on mine for a seconds, then he broke the gaze making me yearn for his orbes to see me again. “He would do anything to see his significant other alive, Jiyeong, and he’s mad at your oblivious ass…”, he finished resting the back of his head on the bathroom wall with eyes closed. Even though he seemed exhausted, he looked like a whole piece of art that I would love to paint someday… Oh… what should I respond to that…?

“I… I don’t know what you mean, tho. I don’t see opportunities, I only think about one thing and-”

“Yeah, we been knew… keeping us alive”, he laughed dryly and left out a deep sight. For a few minutes we sat there without a word. At the other side of the door Hongjoong and Yeosang’s voices echoed faintly, nonetheless I was focusing on San’s breathing next to me. He sounded calmed, almost asleep and it brought a little peace in my disturbed mind. If I wanted to express more, I needed to talk more about what I thought and I San was there in a bathroom floor, willing to wait for me to feel better, maybe it was the right time for just a start…

“I-...”

Three knots on the bathroom door made us jerked up and the soft voice of Seonghwa calmed my heart. 

“San, is she okay?”, the older asked with a concerned tone, almost like a whisper. San stood up on his feet and gave me a hand to do the same. “Can you guys get out? We need to rest, tomorrow is the big day”. I quickly washed my face in the sink and San was about to open the door when he questioned:

“What were you gonna say?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I remember”, a soft chuckled resonated in the place as. He nodded, not very sure if it was true and opened the door for Seonghwa. The black haired man had a anxious look on his face and he waited for San to go out of the bathroom to wrap me instead in his arms. 

“Jiyeong…”

“Let’s not talk about it”, I immediately said getting as far as I could of him with a soft tone. “We need to rest and go find our boys, Seonghwa, we’ll talk when we get them…”, he remained there after I entered my room with the door locked. Tomorrow would be the beginning of our journey to Wonderland, the nerves were already up in everyone’s body after the heated argument I caused and we needed to avoid negativity once again.  The only thing in my mind was San, Mingi and Jongho. I don’t remember being worried about the three of them at the same time, but somehow San slipped through my mind even if I didn’t want him there.

(...)

Masterlist

[sebastians-thotties]

Cunt means family by: The sebastian’s thotties discord server

Summary:

im so sorry

this is legitimately horrible PLEASE dont read this

Notes:

A thanks for everyone in my Sebastian's Thotties Discord server, as well as everyone that runs it's Tumblr account!

This horrendous, disgusting, somehow plot-concurring fic was written by:

- sweets (https://sweetsnteaa@tumblr.com/) - claude (https://claudescrustytoe.tumblr.com/) - saturn (https://saturnberry.tumblr.com/) - pimply (https://undertakers-pimply-dick.tumblr.com/) - stale (https://stale--baguette.tumblr.com/)

and whoever else i don't remember because everyone was on anon when we were working in the fic together in google docs!!!!

LINK TO THE AO3 VER: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011355/chapters/52527664

-mod sweets 

Twas a cold caturday morning when our darling sebby woke up, with a cold, big thick ass pastel cock up his ass, “How odd, "he exclaimed, "I don’t know anyone rich enough to leave you here, “ he said, caressing it’s thicc lengthy shaft with his twink fingers.

They must be rich since they seem to have dildos to spare; still leaving this lovely one here what a waste of good dick . under the right circumstances this lovely dicc would’ve went to the right college, married a lovely waifu and had half a dozen brats. “Ah but alas, " The raven-haired mess exclaimed, “ It ended up cold, alone and covered in shit in my phat ass who’s cheek claps can be heard from miles away…...how tragic. ”

Now struggling to hold back the tears,“If only there was a lovely older onii-chan type man to love me manly enough to make me wet yet feminine enough to wear a short dress that BARELY covered his wrinkly ass - revealing his butthole in its 30 years, unshaven sexiness BUT I KNOW NONE! “ Now sobbing into his velvet bed sheets with his perfect twink face buried into said sheets, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

Breathing in the smell of his past lovers it must be noted that it’s easy to smell them because he doesn’t wash it but I digress, ashy washy landers, Brendon urine, the big bad wolfram,  and snoop dogg the fifth, he couldn’t help but let out an audible moan at the thought of the last one he and his masculine frame AH ! just the thought of him sent seb into a world of pleasure and ecstasy ! his thick Egyptian accent, his tones chest, his amazing rapping skills the way he nibbled on seb’s neck and ear whispering sweet nothings in the devil's ear “ how ya doing lil ma let me whisper in yo ear …..” Ah ! how irresistible . now THAT was a man!   he lets out a sigh why yes ...WAS a man ...WAS MY man but not anymore he lets out a muffled cry why? why did you leave me? he silently questions was it because I was too loose ? was it my multiple sugar daddies? me fucking his dad on our wedding night? that couldn’t be it! no one would get mad over something s o trivial it couldn’t have broken them up! Their bond was too strong!

“My, whatever do you mean?” A voice came from the nearby closet. It was Tanaka, in his skinty, flabby, glory, wearing nothing but a short dress that BARELY covered his wrinkly ass - revealing his butthole in its 30 years, unshaven sexiness.  “I thought you knew me, sebas-chan~~~~~ ?”

The old man smiled, waving his ass six feet off the ground for sebascunt to see. “I got all ready for you~~~~ arent you~~~~ EnTiCed~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~? OwO!”

As everything was unfolding, Undertaker was watching from under the bed. His toes curling in excitement as he heard Tanaka's phat ass clapping AND EXPELLING HOT LUBE as he walked towards Sebastian. He quickly changed into his sluty maid outfit and brushed his greasy lice-ridden pubes fosebastianba

Tnaksa gasped, upon seeing Undertaker crawling from under the bed, his piss-filled pubes on display. “O-h!!!!!!! Undie-chan!!!!!!!!!!!1 what are you doing here, baby>??? U said u wouLD be wiv me prIVATELY tomorrow night when mY furry costume was ready!!!!!!!11” He asked Underfucker, clearly shocked that he was THERE.

"My b-bby I could n-not wait for your sexiness,,,,," undertaker muttered as shakedked his ass as lice and cockroaches shed from it.

Sebastslut gasped upon seeing the weenerroaches. “nYA!!!!!!!!1 UNDERDERTAKE4FR WHERE DID U GET THAT FROM!!! They’re my favorite~~~ form of lube~~~~.”

Undertaker blushed as he looked over to Sebastain, "Bby,,,how could I forget our nights of passion???" Undertaker excitedly said.

“Oh dear, I LOVED it when you took me anally, all those years ago,  during the black plague . . . because of you, my insides have never been the same - they’re FILLED TO THE BRIM with magGots~~~” Sebastwian moaned, sexily creeping his way towards his baby daddy, Underfaker.

Then appeared Claude, who watched creepily from the window. His three-headed dick jumped with excitement seeing the sexy commotion, and his eyes darted around the room, first seeing tanakas sexy as fuck ass with all of the sweaty old man juices ravishing the hair. “Oh, mama Mia what a man,” he exclaimed. He clenched his asscheeks in his brand new sebby Chan underwear, “I feel like a weeb school girl watching her favorite anime. Today’s a perfect day for a big summer BLOW out! "he snickers, his three penis heads dancing like a sugar plum fairy.

Just then, Grell joined outside the adjacent window. She was dressed in a sparkly thong and lacy thigh highs, a devious grin shown on her currently bloody lips.

You see, she had only just come back from consuming the pussies of the innocent, which consisted of, quite literally eating pussy . . .   like spaghetti in a fancy restaurant, and having a business meeting with Garfield about the latest shipment of his favorite lasagna. So, now she was looking for new victims . . . Wait, did I say victims?

I meant lovers .

Grell silently slipped into the room, her coochie on display for all to see as she pulled her scythe -shit-covered- from her perky ass. “Hi baby s ~~~~~~` I came for soME~~~~~ COOCHIIE EATING! "

Sebastian looked up from sucking Undertaker’s rotting toenails, his period-blood red eyes wide with shock. “G-Grell-chan???? What~~! Are you doing here~?”

She smiles while grabbing her left titty and stretching it out like a spring, pulling it so she could suck it like a lollipop. "Want some, slutdaddy?”

Sebastian gasped at the lady, his 10-mile long wiener suddenly growing very, VERY HARD. - even harder than when undertaker had taken his virginity 32499484984238042 years prior. “Yes please~~~ momY !~~! Give it to me hard -!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1”

“Give it to you hard, mate???? How she gonna give ya what you need, slUT~” a voice suddenly asked, coming from the door.

Everyone on the room GASPED in utter shock, upon finally getting to see who it was…..Baldroy…

There he was, standing in the doorway, his MASSIVE, JUICY, PENIS ON DISPLAY FOR EVERYONE TO SEE, SO FUCKING LONG THAT IT WAS LAYING ON THE FLOOR.

“I’ll get you good, mate~” Bard puurrreeeed, licking his crusty, unbrushed teeth with a cocky smile.

He wrapped his arm around Sebastian, licking eyeballs as sebastian MOANED in pleasure. “Please~~~~~~~~~~ mate~~~~~~~ ditch grell. She can never eat your pp like I could~~~”

Practically unable to contain himself any longer, Sebastian nodded, drool escaping his mouth like it was a fucking waterfall.

He crawled to bard, wagging  his PHATT ASS in the air as he waited for entrance. “Daddy….pLEASE!”

Sebasslut moaned pitfully, smiling as he continuously brushed up aganist bard’s snake of a cock, all while everyone watched in shock, hands on their own weiners and coochies, unable to stop themselves any longer.

“Do you take requests~?” Claude asked, hissing like Grell just stepped on his frog feet (which she did, btw).

Whipping his head around, seb gave him a nod and an approving jIGGLE JIGGLE of his flabby, tHICC emo e-boy ASS. “Come and ask spider legs, and you~~~~~~~~~” he blinked (he was trying to wink, but as we all know, simple tasks for sebastian never quite work out well), showing off his balls.

“Can you~~~~~~~~ please eat undertakers greasy, mOIST hair~?” Claude begged an evil smirk on his lips.

Sebastard nodded, grinning as undersucker cackled in delight, shoving his sweat-filled pubes in Sebastian’s not-virgin mouth.

Just then, after about 3 hrs of struggle (and some bloodcurdling screams), Bard had FINALLY managed to shove his 50-yard long weewee in sebayedn’s arse, resulting in a heart attack from the poor demon.

“OOOOOooOOoOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 THERE GOES ME COCK,  YE FELLOW WEENIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” bard ROARED, laughing as he ruthlessly DESTROYED sebastian’s danity insides.

“aaaaAHHHHHHHHHHH DADDY BARD!!!! I CAN’T HANDLE YOUR SNAKE INSIDE ME!!!!”

[pythonissam-despair]

“ If everything is a play, no unhappy things will exist. It may be a tragedy, but it'll all be part of the script. ”

This is it. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are. Through all the blood, sweat, and tears - you stand proudly at the gates of the esteemed Hope’s Peak Academy. Accepted into their ranks, title and all, you’ve been given the opportunity of a lifetime… but is this all that you really want? Are you satisfied only getting this far? Though, of course, it’s nothing to snuff at. But, evidently… you did want more. People always do.

You see, you’re not simply a run-of-the-mill Ultimate; if there is such a thing. One day, whether you were on campus or elsewhere, a mysterious creature came to you. Toting a snow-white coat, red eyes, floppy ears, and strange markings… you didn’t know whether to be awed or terrified.

The creature who introduced itself as Chuubey had one, simple, question for you:

“ What would you give to have your most important wish come true? ”

_________________________

Pythonissam Despair is a 16+ rp group containing a Puella Magi Madoka Magica-inspired magic system mixed with a Danganronpa-styled Killing Game format. The group, with a roster of 18, will be hosted almost exclusively on Discord with game posts, updates, and summaries appearing on the game blog! Intended to run on a flexible 3 ½ week schedule, there will also be mechanics of role-playing games akin to Pokemon Mystery Dungeon as well as general tabletop rpgs.

We will also be taking applications for Mini and Art Mods, alongside the Player Roster!

Enter the Witch’s Den to learn more...

❧ ABOUT

❧ RULES

❧ HOW TO PLAY

❧ FAQ

❧ ‘CONTRACT’

❧ MODS

❧  HOPEFULS DISCORD

[imaginedanganronpa]

Can you please do Yandere Kaede x Rantaro scenario? Except it’s played for comedy. Kaede doesn’t kill anyone, but just scares the competition away from Rantaro. Bonus if she actually manages to scare Kokichi, Korekiyo, Angie or even Monokuma.

I love this. I’ve written for Yandere!Rantaro multiple times but never for Kaede, and you all know I love my Amamatsu. Enjoy!

Yandere!Kaede Akamatsu x Rantaro Amami (Comedic Scenario)!

Eversince this Killing Game predicament started, Kaede hasn’t been able to restrainher feelings as easily or seamlessly as she used to.

It didn’t help that there was a certain green-haired man in particular thatseemed to catch her eye. She had fallen for Rantaro so quickly and didn’t want anyone else to take her man away. Kaede was especially fearful in this situation because she would be damned if he fell Victim to one of the other worthless participants trapped here.

She doesn’t want to kill anyone, that was never her style – especially in the Killing Game; she’s not just going to let the Mastermind use her as a toy. If she were to become reckless and kill someone to get rid of hercompetition, Kaede risked getting caught and executed. And if that happened,she could no longer be there to protect her beloved Rantaro! And she could never win hisheart over if she was dead.

So, she’d have to settle for scaring the others away from her lover. 

He was so charming and romantic that he seemed to have several other Ultimatesswooning over him as well, and Kaede just couldn’t have that. She wondered howshe was supposed to compare or stand out in a place like this. She could feel herself growing colder, her Yandere-tendencies getting the best of her.

Even in a life-or-death scenario, Kaede was too afraid to approach Rantaro. Shekept her distance, admiring him from afar and slowly building up a shrine inher room dedicated to him. 

Every time one of the others got close or spoke to him, a rage built up insideof her that proved difficult to contain. That’s when she devised her plan toscare everyone away from the man she loved, so that she never had to intervenewith him directly.

She was sick and tired of watching that little pest Ouma trying to flirt withhim, and she knew that he had some little thing for Rantaro; he was constantlycalled him his ‘Beloved Amami-Chan’ among other nicknames.

Kaede knew that directly influencing Ouma would only lead to trouble because hehas a big mouth and would without a doubt snitch to Rantaro, ruiningeverything. 

She simply… broke into his room when she knew he wasn’t home and no one elsewas around, vandalizing it a bit. She left some threatening sticky notes behind that said to ‘Leave Rantaro alone, you tiny little fucker.’

However, all Ouma did was laugh and show them to the other man, giggling about how he had a secret admirer. Rantaro looked a bit uncomfortable but shrugged it off as a prank. Stomping his foot, Ouma raised his voice and shouts, “It’s not~! I wouldn’t lie to you, Amami-Chan!”

His eyes danced over to the corner where Kaede was hiding and he made eye contact with her wide, soulless eyes and devilish grin. The sight was unsettling, even for Ouma. He simply backed off with Rantaro calling for him, asking him where he was going.

“You can deal with that crazy bitch, I’m not trying to die!” Ouma responds hastily, leaving the other man in a dazed confusion. 

Her next rival came in the form of an all-too preppy Artist who was trying to lure Rantaro into joining her Cult, or something. He seemed a bit intrigued since he’s always trying to learn about different cultures and beliefs, but Kaede couldn’t have that, now could she?

She seemed to come at the right time because Angie was clinging on his arm and chanting about a blood sacrifice to Atua. She couldn’t let that creepy bitch take her man’s blood, only she could do that!

Without a second thought, Kaede retrieved one of the switch-blades she kept in her backpack and tossed it at the Artist, grazing past her face and giving her a nice haircut. 

Angie stopped and snaked her arms away from Rantaro hesitantly, glancing around in a panic. Truthfully, Kaede didn’t even think when she threw it, as if her reflexes had a mind of their own. Thankfully, they didn’t see her except for…

Korekiyo who had been standing in the shadows just a few feet away. Kaede didn’t notice him until it was too late and he let out a small chuckle, but all she had to do was square up and shoot him an intimidating glare, and the taller man got the message. With a fearful expression, he wipes the grin off of his face and disappears, promising to never tell anyone what he saw.

Kaede returned to her room where she had the faces of their peers lined up in a row, drawing an ‘X’ over Angie’s face since she seemed to get the memo after nearly getting a blade to the cheek. There wasn’t anyone else whom she was very fearful of, feeling content that her competition was slowly whittled away.

Suddenly, Monokuma appeared on her bed which was behind her and signaled his arrival with his signature laugh. Kaede whipped around and grits her teeth, growing at the pesky bear. “Wow, Kaede, you sure are crazy about Rantaro! Emphasis on crazy.”

The blonde smirked and, with an evil stare, reminded him that she could tear his stuffing out with one swift move. A sweat droplet formed on Monokuma’s face and he defensively raised his paws, “T-that won’t be necessary, Kaede!”

Before she could ask what he was doing here, he disappeared almost as suddenly as he came.

Her frantic acts of desperation became more intense with time. During Himiko’s Magic Act, she asked for volunteers and Rantaro nearly raised his hand. However, Kaede elbowed Tenko in the side and forced her to raise her hand before she could pick her man from the audience. Another time, she crashed Kaito’s Workout Session when Rantato decided to tag along by stealing some insects from Gonta’s Lab and releasing them on the Astronaut; making sure that they wouldn’t taint Rantaro’s perfect complexion, though.

Once, Rantaro offered to paint Tsumugi’s nails. They were the only three people in the Kitchen at the time and, before Tsumugi could accept the offer, she purposefully set the oven on fire to cause them to rush out of the room in a frenzy. She didn’t care if she burned the building down as long as her man wasn’t holding another woman’s hands.

Slowly but surely, her competition disappeared and Kaede was the only person left who was compatible with Rantaro! That’s how these things work, right…?

Plus, no one would attempt to kill him at this point since they knew what would happen if they tried. One too many ‘coincidences’ surrounded Rantaro and no one was brave enough to try. Not only did she eliminate the competition but she also ensured his safety.

It’s a win-win in Kaede’s eyes! Now he has to love her… right?

- Mod Rantaro

[greasergirls]

simmering summer heat • johnny cade

WARNING: smut, public sex, cursing

WORD COUNT: too many at 1:26 AM

PAIRING: Johnny/reader

"WHAT IS IT, BABY?"

You peeled yourself off of the vinyl diner seats, thighs warm from the shining sun rays pouring in through the nearby window. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy watching Steve and Soda making out with slutty girls they hardly knew; that wasn't it all.

It was almost the opposite. It was crude, but you were hot, pun intended, and found yourself pleasant self-consciousness almost overbearing. Johnny was smoking outside but you felt his dark eyes on you as made long-legged strides to the ladies room.

The bathroom was empty. The silence lasted only three minutes before the scent of cigarettes and a dash of nutmeg wafted inside.

Johnny had you pressed against the sink countertop before you could so much as greet him. He kissed you, aggressively pushing his tongue into your mouth.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, kissing your boyfriend back without another thought. He continued his achingly wet, thick assault causing butterflies to manifest within your stomach.

You moaned, shifting your legs open around his waist for comfort. Johnny gripped your dewy legs, pulling away with a bite of his lip. "What is it, baby?" He asked of your sounds.

Gripping his long, dark hair, you pressed your chest against him with need. "Johnny," you gave him an angelic, puppy dog look. "You."

He kicked the trash can by the door with little effort. "It's hot in here," he said, snaking his hands under your tight dress to remove your panties. "We've gotta make this quick."

"That translates to rough," you summarized. Any risky sex with Johnny was rough and hard. However, considering the unbearable heat, you didn't mind. You wanted him to fuck you, not hold you in his arms until you were reduced to a glimmering pool of perspiration.

Johnny smiled, running his finger down your wet folds. "I saw you watching them, back at the table. You liked that?"

"Nice weather makes me horny," you shrugged, grimacing in pleasure as he inserted a finger inside of you.

"That's obvious," he retorted, eyes taking in your risqué mod dress. "Figured I would fuck you before someone had the chance to walk in on you moaning in a stall."

"My God, Johnny," you rolled your eyes. He responded by thrusting two additional fingers inside of you. It was an uncomfortably tight fit, you whimpered.

Johnny kept a good pace, introducing you to his fingers, until your hips were bucking to a rhythm and covered in a light layer of sweat. Then, he couldn't take the severe aching throb of his thick cock anymore.

"Yes," you whined shallowly, hair falling in your face. Your eyes fell on a discarded, damp paper towel on the floor. Someone could walk in any minute. The only thing stopping them with a lightweight trash can.

Johnny unzipped his bulging jeans, pulling out his dick dripping with pre-cum. You rolled his condom onto his length, licking your lips with need.

He was erect, more ready than you expected. His member was rosy with rushing blood, a size that made you wetter than you thought possible.

"We've been in here too long," he stated, holding your hipbone. The other hand held his dick as he prepared to enter your pink pussy. "This has gotta be fast, alright, sweetheart?"

You whimpered in response as his tip slipped inside of you. Johnny didn't wait until you had adjusted to his size to move his member sheathed fully inside of you.

He slammed into you relentlessly from there on, making your small frame bounce against the speckled bathroom mirror. He pushed stray napkins to the floor, rearranging your body on the linoleum countertop.

Johnny's hands pulled at your dress viciously, pushing the fabric sticking to you further up, past your core. His hands left bruises as they groped, lifting you and gripping your ass to penetrate you a better angle.

He couldn't contain his moans as his hairline grew damp with beads of sweat. You stuck to him with every touch.

Johnny had never fucked you like this before. Inhuman speed, never once missing your drenched pussy upon entry. His hips snapped back and forth, stomach muscles tightening.

He leaned down to sloppily kiss you as his groans were becoming loud and constant. "Holy fuck," he whispered in a low octave, burying himself in the crook of your neck as he gave you a more furious set of thrusts.

"Johnny!" You cried. "Oh, oh! Umm, Johnny!"

He stuffed his fingers into your mouth, devoting the last of his energy into your dirty, sweaty orgasms.

Your release spilled all over him, dripping. Your body was bruised and sticky, you could feel yourself throbbing. You let distorted moans hurtle past his fingers, mascara beginning to run due to a sickly combination of summer heat and hedonistic tears.

He jerked against your tight walls. Johnny's eyes almost rolled into his head as he came, slowly rolling his hips as he rode out his wave.

His cock slipped out of you, his head gliding between your wet folds. He disposed of his rubber as you dabbed your entire body with the piles of hand-drying napkins, satisfied. You slipped your sunglasses back onto the bridge of your nose, hopping off the counter.

Johnny pressed you against the tile wall, cornering you with his black eyes for a kiss.

He grabbed your hand. "Come on baby, they've A/C out there. Besides, I need a Coke."

[freddielocks]

Here's part 2: now we turn our attention to the rarest albums in my collection! The values are higher, of course, but twelve tracks will generally be worth more than two!

An honourable mention goes to the Who, with their album My Generation on Brunswick. Despite this technically being the most expensive on the list at a colossal £600 book and £825 maximum sale value, there is a serious gulf between unplayed pristine copies and copies of any lower calibre - it isn't a true rarity. At any rate my copy has no cover.

10) Kevin Ayers - Joy Of A Toy

Label: Harvest, cat. SHVL 763

Year: 1969, 10 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £240

Book value: £150

Paid: £40 in Plastic Wax Records

Notes: couple of scratches but overall a nice playing copy. Cover good. 1st pressing with no EMI box on the label.

Kevin Ayers was a charismatic singer with a demure voice, involved in the Canterbury Scene and the genesis of progressive rock, being a founder member of the Soft Machine. Joy Of A Toy, his first solo record, is a wonderfully anachronistic blast of poppy psychedelia, with not many standout songs but designed to be listened to all the way through. Nevertheless, swinging opener 'Song For Insane Times' and the unsettling 'children's' song 'Lady Rachel' are my highlights.

9) John And Yoko - The Wedding Album

Label: Apple, cat. SAPCOR 11

Year: 1969, 2 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £259

Book price: £600 (bear in mind a complete set has never sold)

Paid: £15, from a 'friend' needing money for a night out!

John Lennon and Yoko Ono's marriage in Gibraltar, for various reasons I can't remember, and their 'Bed Peace' protest were documented in this lavish package. Musically, the album is truly bizarre. The first side is 22 minutes of the pair's heartbeats as they shout each other's names in various ways (yeah) and the flip is a sound collage of a bunch of recordings and interviews made in Amsterdam during Bed Peace. I wanted a copy during my phase of intrigue into the Beatles' experimental solo works, and somehow I got one!

Out of the full package that originally came with the LP, I own the gatefold sleeve that held the record, the large wedding photos, the cartoon poster and the booklet of press clippings. The cardboard in there may be original too, and there's a random photo of John Lennon I was given free at a record fair once. The box is not, it was lovingly replicated from a Reader's Digest box set of show songs. Original boxes had a facsimile wedding certificate glued to the inside. I am sadly missing the 'Bagism' plastic bag, the pop up cutout of the wedding cake and the small strip of passport photos. What a package - it must have cost a lot at the time!

8) Blonde On Blonde - Contrasts

Label: Pye, cat. NSPL.18288

Year: 1969, 12 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £290

Book price: £175

Paid: £12 in Plastic Wax

Notes: I only have half the cover! Clearly someone wanted to have the pretty girl on their wall... The LP is in playable condition. It took some cleaning though.

This Welsh outfit came at the beginning of progressive rock, and the LP is surprisingly assured and complex straight from the bold opener 'Ride With Captain Max'. Hard rock, baroque stately ballads and in between are all present, with other highlights being the sitar-drenched 'Spinning Wheel' (a cover of Blood Sweat and Tears), the sneeringly humorous 'Conversationally Making The Grade' (I love the line 'America's gonna buy us, turn us into a national park') and the wistful closer 'Jeanette Isabella'.

7) Second Hand - Reality

Label: Polydor, cat. 583 045

Year: 1968, 10 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £295

Book value: £200

Paid: £50 on eBay

Notes: second press, with labels crediting Second Hand instead of their first name, The Moving Finger (also the name of the band who released the gorgeous 'Pain of My Misfortune' single which I'm still looking for). The cover is deliberately 'worn' as a pun on the band name, and the vinyl is not perfect but really nice.

Again, Second Hand were at the forefront of progressive rock, miles ahead of many more popular acts. Band leader Ken Elliott was a keyboard wizard as well as lead vocalist, and the rest of the band were also brilliant musicians, augmented by the cello and flute of Chris Williams on certain tracks. The album has a loose concept about a clown, Denis James, whose life hits difficulties and culminates in his eventual suicide in the bath. The first side contains many brilliant vignettes, with tough rockers alongside orchestrated psychedelia, culminating in the woozy and fatigued 'The World Will End Yesterday'. However, be ready to turn it over. There are four tracks on the second side, the first being a cheery entree to the Denis James character. What follows is a devastating emotional journey that grabs you by the neck, with heavy murk contrasting the swooning cello arrangements and jazzy flute. This culminates in the Bath Song, and the death of D.J. Brutal, and has to be heard to be experienced. I thought it was even more chilling as I was told Bob Gibbons, the lead guitarist, killed himself nine years later. However that's a stupid myth for hype, unfortunately it was an accidental electrocution.

6) The Graham Bond Organization - Sound Of '65

Label: Columbia, cat. 33SX 1711

Year: 1965 (obviously!), 12 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £300

Book value: £400

Paid: around £40 in Plastic Wax

Notes: looks much rougher than it plays. First press with '33SX' in the catalogue number.

Graham Bond, a former radiator salesman, was an amazing saxophone player and keyboardist (and decent singer) who cut his teeth alongside the now legendary Don Rendell. Also in the Organization, the band he formed after leaving Rendell's Quintet, was the other great saxophonist Dick Heckstall-Smith, and two future members of supergroup Cream, bassist and singer Jack Bruce and drummer Ginger Baker. The album is classy jazzy R&B, covering many well known standards with a few originals in there. 'Baby Be Good To Me' is my standout pick, a scurrying shuffle with darting saxophone and cool organ fills driving it along.

5) The Wailers - Catch A Fire

Label: Island, cat. ILPS 9241

Year: 1973, 9 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £350

Book price: £150

Paid: £12 in Plastic Wax

Notes: the upper part of the cover, which swung off as if a 'Zippo' lighter, is missing. The LP is very scratched, but is the original pink rim 1st pressing.

Bob Marley and The Wailers made this iconic album debut in 1973, starting the ball rolling on their incredible popularity. A classic of the new reggae sound straight from the darkly grooving opener 'Concrete Jungle'. Nuff said really! Check it out, you'll enjoy it.

4) The Graham Bond Organization - There's a Bond Between Us

Label: Columbia, cat. 33SX 1750

Year: 1965, 12 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £395

Book price: £400

Paid: £35 from Plastic Wax

Notes: slightly shabbier than the other GBO LP (they were bought together). Still a solid player.

This second album sees the GBO expand their sound, and is arguably the stronger of the two. Not only does Jack Bruce's suave and strong voice get more of an outing, but the three instrumentals make it impossible to sit down listening to the album! Have a dance to the punchy opener 'Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?' and listen to the Eastern-flavoured Baker-led 'Camels and Elephants'.

3) The Kinks - Arthur or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire

Label: Pye, cat. NPL.18317

Year: 1969, 12 tracks

Highest on Discogs: £421

Book price: £150

Paid: £20 in Plastic Wax

Notes: much rarer mono issue. Comes with original Queen Victoria lyric insert, but cover and record are very battered. 'Victoria' will not play as there is something up with the grooves. Maybe an industrial clean is in order.

This album, the last in the series of roughly conceptual Kinks LPs, is a delightfully quirky musical take on end-of-empire Britain, taking various melodic cues from music of the time and combining them with distinctly British themes and some serious danceability. One could argue that 'Victoria' invented pub rock. 'Brainwashed' is a cool mod dancer and 'Shangrila', the second single from the album, is a complex ode to humble home life and a shrewd observation on class. The hits and commercial success was gone by now, but is now the most acclaimed part of the Kinks' oeuvre.

2) Trees - On The Shore

Label: CBS, cat. S 64168

Year: 1970, 10 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £483

Book price: £400

Paid: £12 in Plastic Wax

Notes: two large grievous scratches on the A-side - but they barely even sound, it's a great player!

Acid folk was practically invented by Trees, who had already laid down the wonderful Garden of Jane Delawney LP. The characteristic soaring vocals of Celia Humphris delightfully interplayed with fuzzy rock to create a new exciting edge on traditional folk songs and some startling original material. The short opener 'Soldiers Three' signals their intent clearly. Their arrangement of the infamous folk ballad 'Streets of Derry' lends it an excellent charging energy, but arguably the standouts are the ominous and cryptic 'Fool' and the soaring and energetic 'Murdoch', showing staggering songcraft. As if the album didn't have more than enough going for it, 'Geordie' was sampled by Gnarls Barkley on their track 'St. Elsewhere', leading to a renaissance of the band's work. Despite appearing on numerous samplers put out by the record label, Trees never became a commercial success, a fact which boggles the mind.

1) The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Electric Ladyland

Label: Track, cat. 613008/9

Year: 1968, 16 tracks

Highest Discogs sale: £645

Book price: £300

Paid: I will never know!

Notes: second press with white text on the sleeve instead of turquoise. Yes, stupid things like that make a difference. One record contains Sides 1 and 4, the other sides 2 and 3, which isn't standard.

Arguably Hendrix's masterpiece, this album needs little introduction, mixing psychedelia, jazz, R&B and even more into a great cosmic double album. Just listen to '1983 (A Merman I Should Turn To Be') and you'll understand the sheer power and weight of this record. Glorious from start to finish.

Thanks again!

[transformationstuck]

Terror-bae

One where I don’t really have a proper description?

Feferi is accidentally subjected to a ‘test’, and through it becomes a powerful monster lady. Lots of story. A little implied sexualness. Nothing explicit.

-Mod FJ

"HEIRESS, PROCEED THROUGH HERE, THE SUBJECT IS READY.” Feferi gave the drone a smile - the things creeped her out, and scared her, and she was glad that they stayed outside the room as she walked into the sterile white cell that the test subject was waiting in.

Feferi was, like any respectable potential empress, skilled in pretty much every topic that could vaguely be construed as useful - science, technology, combat, she had done it all. Some of it only barely though. Like now, when was being forced by her tutor to run a series of tests based around-

Feferi stopped for a few moments, gawping. At an average 5ft6 she thought of herself as tall, and anyone else as too tall or short. This woman was sitting on a chair, and it took a good few feet away from her height, and her head was STILL above Feferi’s. Feferi licked her lips. Yes, she’d enjoy this test. She checked the clipboard.

“Miss... Uh. H? The records say that you’ve been reprimanded for excessive combat pursuits for your non-combat role.”

“That’s correct. This is part of the reprimand, I think.” Miss H looked down at Feferi. Feferi became aware of a layer of sweat over her face that wasn’t there before, and that she was blushing, and that she really loved girls- “Can we please get this over with?”

Feferi blinked, and then nodded, blushing harder. She looked at the clipboard again, and walked over to a nearby tray, where there were four syringes - all empty - and some sterilization equipment. She saw Miss H’s eyes widen, just for a moment. “Scared of needles?”

“... Yes.”

Feferi sniggered, taking the statement at face value. It didn’t occur to her that the woman could have other reasons to not want a needle in her arm. “Well then, close your eyes and it’ll be over soon.”

Swab, find, stab, draw. Feferi struggled with the stab part, and Miss H took the needle herself to get it in sooner, drawing out a test-tube worth of vivid, jade green blood. Feferi stared again, and decided that this was getting ridiculous.

As she took the second needle, Miss H spoke up. “Do you know why they are taking my blood to do tests?”

“Of course,” Feferi replied, automatically, drawing the second batch from the woman, even though it was a lie. Miss H smiled.

“They think injecting my blood into someone will make them stronger.”

Feferi laughed, but the idea stuck. By the time she was handling the third needle, she had a mental picture of herself - taller than everyone else, stronger than everyone else, stronger than the empress, THE STRONGEST. As she drew the blood out for the fourth needle, she quickly swiped a bit of Miss H’s blood from the woman’s arm, and swallowed it. It burned on the way down. Like it tasted of power.

Miss H put her hand over the entry hole, and stood up, waking over to the tray and looking for some kind of bandage. There were none. Feferi turned around to look at the behemoth woman.

“That’s it, you can go now.”

“I know.”

Feferi turned towards the door. She heard a clink. The door began to open. She felt the air move, and went to duck to the side as she heard a swoosh of air, and the sudden crack of glass on the floor. A jabbing pain filled her side, and she yelled in pain as she stumbled, Miss H dropping an empty syringe to the ground and barreling out the door. A drone began to make a wailing noise, and Feferi was vaguely aware of Miss H grabbing it and slamming it into a wall as Feferi herself fell to the ground, passing out.

A few hours later, Feferi woke up. She was still in the gown, and sirens were blaring. Groaning, she got to her feet, and unsteadily walked out the door. Devastation filled her path, but she couldn’t focus on that. Instead, she kept walking, heading outside, stumbling to her private vehicle - thankfully, one of the groups of cars that was still intact - and slumped into the back seat, ordering the driver to take her to a nearby hotel. She passed out again.

When she came to this time, she was in a hotel bed, alone. She felt clearer headed now, less in pain, less confused. The curtains were drawn, and nothing else could be clearly heard, so it was probably day out. After a few minutes of searching, she found the tv remote. Flicking it on, the news was about the unfortunate fire started in an imperial research lab by a rogue scientist. Feferi snorted. Yeah, sure. The view switched to a destroyed lab - probably the same one. Good thing she got out.

Almost creaking with the effort, Feferi dragged herself into the bathroom, ready to take a shower, and glanced into the mirror. Her powerful frame looked back at her, tired and needing food, full of barely contained strength-

She ran up to the sink, grabbing the side. What. WHAT. “WHAT?!” She wasn’t that strong! That toned! That... Alluring.

Staring into her eyes, Feferi felt wide awake. Her arms were chiseled, where before they’d been toned. Her chest was cup sizes larger, and as she gave herself a grope she felt a core of muscle that hadn’t been there before. She had abs - an honest to goodness set of abs, clearly visible, and her thighs looked like they could crack skulls!

She reached up, wiping away drool from her mouth as she looked over her body for the entry wound - there, between her grubscars, was where the needle had gone in. Part of the metal was still in there, and she tugged it out with her fingernails, dropping it into the bin as she marvelled at herself. Miss H had been right. Miss H had given her, an heiress, a gift, and then ruined the Empress’s day by wrecking all the research around herself. She laughed, starting as a snigger, and turning into a shrieking howl that echoed around the room. Someone next door thumped on the wall, and she forced herself to shut up, grinning widely. She’d find a way to thank Miss H later.

Walking out into the main part of room, she realised that she was starving. She ordered a multitude of things through room service - enough to feed five, sure, but she was STARVING. She hadn’t eaten all day, and she’d become a beacon of trolldom and that had taken a lot out of her body. When the person brought it up to her, she wasn’t even dressed in a towel, and she dragged the tray in without another word, closing the door on them and letting them see her mighty physique. She giggled. It was good to be able to call her own body “mighty.”

Putting down a glass of milkshake, it clinked against something. Feferi turned to look, and stared. On her bedside table, between a clock and her phone, was a syringe. She hadn’t checked her phone since she woke up, and she did so now - a dozen texts from Sollux, a bunch from her friends, and one from a number she didn’t know, that she assumed was Miss H - “The other syringe will be more dangerous. Meet me here and I’ll help you with the results.”

Feferi muttered the message under her breath a few times, and let out a short “HAH!”

“She thinks I need HELP?! Yeah right! I’ll meet her there and show her how AMAZING I am!”

With the theatrics of a born showtroll, Feferi jabbed the second needle into her arm, and injected the vial of blood into her body, giggling all the while. This time she was able to put the vial down safely, and she scooped up the blood that escaped before going to get a plaster-

Feferi reached the bathroom, and stopped again. The wound was gone. Both were now gone. She leaned over the counter, and heard a crack as her grip broke the stone under it. Eyes widening in horror, she stumbled back, and tripped under her growing bulk as her body visibly shifted. Her fingers shifted, nails lengthening and sharpening and becoming sharp claws as her hand’s shape changed. The changes began to run up her arm now, grey skin becoming pink scales that glowed with unnatural light. She felt her jaw shift, crack slightly as her teeth became fangs, massive, rending fangs, strong enough to break metal. She closed her eyes, screaming in a voice that distorted and cracked as her hair became longer, thicker, more like seaweed, tumbling down to her knees. Her powerful legs lengthened, her whole body becoming taller while she sat there, and as she stumbled up to her feet, panicking now, she bumped her head on the ceiling, her horns reshaping into hooklike curves that hung down by her ears, sharp and tricky, adding to her monstrous appearance. She stepped out to the balcony, stumbling and falling over again as her legs cracked, and from between them she saw a tail - massive, powerful, covered in the same scales as the rest of her monstrous body - take shape and drag out, splitting into something almost like a shark’s tail as she pulled back the curtains and opened the window, tearing them down in the hope that the burning sun would maybe do something to her before someone found her - maybe get rid of the scales, or make it not look like her, so someone would assume he’d been eaten and it wouldn’t be-

She’d been standing in the sun for a few seconds now. It felt... Nice. Warm. Reassuring.

She dared to open her eyes, and found that yes, it was a nice day. Quiet. Nobody else was around. She stared over the city, an eight foot sea monster, strong enough to crush stone and steel.

Still scared, but now with an avenue out, the naked heiress nodded to herself.

She’d go see this Miss H. She’d find out her secrets. And then she’d take over the empire, to make herself safe, and stop anyone else finding out about this amazing power.

Stopping onto to grab the syringe and swallow it, enjoying the taste of the glass and metal as they went painlessly down her throat, she lept off of the balcony, setting out to her new destiny as a sea-tyrant.

[jrazillashadowworks]

Mod Mission: Insurgency

Hey! My first actual post on my new writing blog! Exciting. Well this was supposed to be a short.....>,,> In the end it ended up growing to 6329 words. So, not a short but who cares. xD Warning, violence and death. Enjoy! This was a lot of fun to write. ^,,^ 

The capital was abuzz with the rumor of a forest town near Udde being overrun by a faction of insurgents. Everyone from street urchins to the nobles discussed the horrible news. It wasn’t until an urgent letter sent to the Queen by Mayor Malin herself that the rumor was validated. Minx glared at the parchment written by an emotional hand much unlike that of Malin, although it could be no other. Immediately, the Queen presented the task to the Mayor of the capital.

Calling Gabbi to the castle in due haste, she explained to her the situation, her expression stern. “Our best decision is to send the entirety of the Mods to handle this…small insurrection.”  

“Of course,” Gabbi agreed immediately, a bead of sweat forming on her brow. “But why not send the royal army?”

The Queen laced her fingers before her shadowed face, brows knitting over glittering brown eyes. “I feel this is the best way to contain the situation without it getting out of hand. With the help of the shadow mage, they can go in and quickly crush them.”

Gabbi nodded dutifully. “Of course my Queen.” Even though she trusted the capabilities of her Mods, the worry of something happening to them always weighed heavy on her heart.

Upon returning to the Mayor HQ, all mods were assembled at the entrance, night having descended. Gabbi was short on words, her voice cracking and nervous. “They must be handled…The Queen has assigned the task to you and only you.”

“Would it not be prudent to let Raz scout the area first?” Asa asked, bumping her shoulder to his.

“There is no time,” Raz replied stalely, understanding how dire the situation was just by the Mayor’s subtle yet erratic movements and mannerisms. “We are to handle this promptly.”

Without any other objections, the Mods ran off to gather their weapons for battle and returned within seconds. As they reappeared, the darkness in a corner of the main hall quivered, expanding, darkened fingers clawing up the walls. Blood curdling screams erupted from the void as the gates of shadows wrenched open, releasing an odious scent of death and petrification. Felice was ducked under the main desk, clenching his ears shut, whimpering.

Gripping their weapons tightly in hand, they gave one last glance at one another then at the Mayor. Gabbi’s eyes welled up with hot tears as if this was the last time she would see them even though she knew the thought utterly ridiculous. Asa was the first to run into the shadows, swallowed up as soon as she passed over. The others followed, only Panda, hands joined with Arc hesitated before being pulled in after.

Raz walked after them, stopping by the Mayor. Outstretching his hand, he clasped her shoulder lightly and gave a quick, affirming nod before following after with not a word uttered between them. Entering the shadows, a simple wave of the hand, closed the darkness behind him, leaving Gabbi desperately watching after him.

There was no such thing as light in this horrid, dark expanse. The voices of the damned cried out for mercy, wailing for release, ripping at the ears of the Mods as they traversed the nightmare scape. Their hearts weighed them down, plummeting, all senses assaulted and abused. In seconds their movements became sluggish, minds addled by the pure misery that surrounded them.

“Raz,” Jo cried out in broken sobs. “End it!”

“Grab hold of one another,” Raz uttered, his voice reaching each and every one of them as if he was speaking to them through their minds, words coming out pristine amidst the mournful howls.

Reaching out, they grasped one another wherever they could for they could see nothing at all. Asa, leading the group put her hand out, feeling something unearthly take hold, sending a wash of goosebumps over her skin. Then she was jerked, violently, along with the others after her. They whipped through the dark, clenching tight as to not lose hold of one another. One of the Mods screamed although it was impossible to discern who.

A glimmer of flickering light seeped into the blackness, and finally the group was tossed out. Landing abruptly, they lay out on a patchwork of dry grass, gasping roughly. Reorienting themselves, they were welcome to a hellish scene unlike anything they were prepared for. Their faces were alight by the luminance of a sea of flame, glazing their eyes, flaying their skin.

Blinking wildly, they stared mortified at the town swathed in a towering inferno. Buildings, trees, carts, everything was burning. Blazing embers rode the desolate wind, sparking out in front of them. Rivers of blood seeped between the cobblestones of the town and countless mangled and scorched bodies lined the streets.

Standing to her feet, Jo hunched over, quivering. “We are too late?”

The others wanted to object, to reassure her, but the evidence was stacked against them. Asa planted herself before them. “We need to do a sweep of the town and look for any survivors,” she stated firmly, her hazel eyes were steeled.

“I suggest we fan out in groups of two,” Mishy added. “From our vantage, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of enemy activity. Two Mods together should be able to handle small skirmishes with the enemy should we run into them.”

“If we should find survivors,” Panda jumped in, unconfident. “Should we just bring them back here?”

“We should have Raz...Where is Raz?”

Each Mod turned this way and that, Asa shaking her head with a scoff. “Shouldn’t be surprised. He’s probably already on the move. Alright as for team compositions.”

“I’ll go with Arc,” Panda piped, hoisting his shield.

Asa rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

Arc who had remained rather silent, staring ahead at the village nodded, distracted. “I mean, someone has to make sure he doesn’t get killed.”

“I’m the one with the shield!” He protested.

The small mod pulled away, mimicked her partner before nudging him in the side with her elbow. He pouted in response. “We will see who protects who.”

“I can go with Jo,” Mishy said, ignoring the little lovers spat.

Jo wiped away her tears, exhaling softly. “I’m all for that…But what about you Asa?”

The wind Mod chuckled lightly. “I’m better going it alone. Plus I’m going to keep an eye out for our elusive friend who just ditched us. Now let’s get to it!”

All in agreement, they broke off, heading in different directions, entering the town from multiple angles, Panda and Arc taking the west entrance, Jo and Mishy the east and Asa from the south. If worse comes to worse they should meet in the center.

The town was rather large, a once beautiful hamlet within the great expanse of emerald trees. However now it was but a blazing ruin, engulfed by fire and veiled in dense, black smoke that blanketed everything below its haze. There were no cries of survivors, only the crackling of wood being gnawed at by the devouring flames.

Each group ran about as fast as they could, checking every nook and cranny of the town not destroyed by the inferno. Frantic, they called out for anyone that could hear them, be they friend or foe. However, their voices fell on the deaf ears of the dead, not a single reply coming back. Desolation was all that was left.

Jo’s gait had slowed to a crawl as her sullen eyes surveyed the many broken corpses of men, women, and even children that lay crumpled on the ground. Sweat slid down her cheeks, mixing with the tears that now flowed freely down her cheeks. She wanted so bad to be strong like her compatriots who seemed to be able to always keep a straight face in times of adversity, but for her, it was impossible. The fact that these victims did nothing to deserve such a horrid fate weighed heavily on her mind. For a moment, she contemplated just giving up.

“Are you okay?” Mishy asked, muffled, keeping a cloth handkerchief tight pressed over her mouth and nose, coming up alongside her.

“What kind of monsters could do this sort of thing?” Jo asked, a slip of rage tinging her voice.

“Not monsters,” Mishy muttered softly, a sheen glossing over her glasses. “Humans.”

“I sure hope we find them.” Jo sniffed, face contorting in anger. Her gauntleted fists bawled up.

“Speaking of, it seems whoever did this has already passed through. There is no sign of them anywhere. It’s very unnerving.”

 On the other side of the town’s western side, Panda and Arc waded through what looked to be a shopping district, or the remnants of one. Windows were smashed open, teeth of jagged glass, gaping mouths of hell, fire devouring all within. Once beautiful, elaborate and decorated shops were now smoldering husks, commercial tombstones licked clean. Their search had proven as futile as the others. Arc’s fear of fire had been creeping up on her and the closer she was the more stark the feeling. Even though it was blisteringly hot, a cold chill ran throughout her small body, hair standing on end. She did her best to keep as far away from the flames as possible.

Though the two usually bantered about on their missions together, the solemn air robbed them of any inclination of doing so. They simply searched in complete silence, hands trained on their weapons, ready for anything that may attack them. Their soft footsteps slapped against puddles of blood, pooled from the countless bodies strewn about. Arc bent down upon glancing at an open wound, assessing the dead. Panda simply watched at her back, uneasy and unable to comprehend how she could do such a thing, but kept his thoughts to himself, letting her focus.

Arc moved the corpses delicately, examining them for anything other than burns. Determined, her fingertips ran over three, deep, distinct gashes that clawed up the throats, and arteries. Whoever did this was skilled and extremely precise. After a few more checks, she realized, it was the exact same for all the others. Following the line of bodies, and their general positions, it was clear that they had all tried to escape only to be cut down. She relayed this to Panda in almost a whisper.

“Wonder if it’s the same for the others…”

 Asa alone rode in from the south on a burst of wind. Dusting above the ground, she quickly blew about the main road, cleaving through the plumes of dense, black smoke, orange bangs dancing wildly before her stern face. Huffing out the clutching fumes, she grimaced as she surveyed the onslaught left in their enemies wake. There was no doubt now, not a single survivor remained.

Brushing past the snaking alleyways and residential areas laid to waste, the street opened up into a massive square. Structures taller and more embellished than any other within the village created a blackened silhouette to a backdrop of flame. No doubt these were the designated governmental buildings, but it wasn’t that, that drew her attention.

From her peripherals, she noticed a human shape upright unlike all the others. Wondering if it was Raz, she released control of the wind, letting her feet skid to an abrupt by expert stop, wind hissing as it billowed everything around her. Spinning on her heel, she realized her suspicion was wrong. Though a dank haze quickly hovered over her vision, she could still make out the person she noticed now knelt alone in between a group of desecrated bodies, morphed into a despicably perfect, gory circle around them.

Glaring, the Mod took a few steps closer, chest tightening. The closer she got, the more she could make out. What looked like a rather thinly athletic young man in his twenties, remained motionless at her careful approach. They were perfectly proportioned, skin russet and smooth, folding around well cut muscles. Strange eloquent markings of brilliant crimson snaked over his exposed shoulders and chest. Their hands remained folded, one on top of the other, polished nails painted in many colors adorned fingers that had looked to have been dipped in a myriad of colored pastel powders. Their head hung slightly, silky, umber colored hair brushed forward obscuring his countenance, and the back tied up much like hers were pinned by two large hawk feathers. Within a few feet, Asa then caught whiff of a sickly sweet scent that practically emanated from the young man. Blending with the horrid stench of blood, it took all of her self-control not to gag, a lump of thick mucus forming in her throat.

“Are you the one who did this?” Asa queried, forcing out the words to the best of her ability.

“Shh, shh, shhh,” they replied softly yet quickly, thrusting up a single finger before flicking it side to side. “One must meditate in the after-glow.”

A pin of irritation struck the Mod immediately, her lips curling defiantly. “So you did do this.”

“Of course I did,” they shouted proudly, in a much higher octave, their voice almost musical. Their head jerked upwards, revealing a strikingly handsome face decorated in painted shapes and an unfathomably manic expression of pure insanity. The sudden movement caused Asa to recoil a step as the strange ones vermillion powdered lips stretched creepily from one ear to the other. Elegantly long eyelashes fluttered over flashing brown eyes, almost as scorching as the flames that danced around them.

“What debonair connoisseur other than I could create such utter carnage of such exquisite beauty? None that’s who!” He snapped, along with his fingers.

Asa simply stared incredulously at this strange person, already reaching back for her unextended staff fitted in her belt. This did not escape the notice of the murderer whose thin brows perked up at her offensive gesture. Then a whimsical, mock pout reminiscent of a clown adorned their features. “Are you saying you aren’t appreciative of my art?”

“Got a fucked up notion of art,” the Mod whipped back. “Ever thought about just using paint and brushes?”

“Pah,” they exclaimed, shaking their head, and making outrageous hand gestures as if they had been insulted. “How trite! Those tools do not interest me. Humans provide all the supplies I need for my masterpieces. Everything I do is the result of combined effort.” Their hands motioned to the dead. “Now that they have helped create such artistry, such magnanimous beauty, these humble souls now rest an untroubled, well deserved rest, leaving behind an eternal image for all.”

Asa had to swallow, for the more they ranted and raved, the more bile felt as if was rushing up her throat. Knuckles bled white as she clenched the grip of her weapon, prepared to wrench it free in a seconds notice and bash his head into a pulverized mess of so called ‘art’.

“Aha! You seem intent on adding your own varnish to my glorious piece. I shall not turn you away for it would indeed be nice to reveal my technique to one such as you. I feel as if we have shared a connection however brief this encounter lasts.”

With a single, fluid movement, the so called artist swiveled upward. Not that it was of any importance, but Asa observed that the only clothing they wore were skin tight multi colored, satin leggings that wrapped under their bare feet, painted toes tapping against the cobblestones. The Mod however was drawn to the pair of razor sharp clawed, golden gauntlets hanging from behind them. Attached to their belt, a metal cylinder was clasped to the leather. A gleam ran across thin wires that attached the gauntlets to the cylinder. Thick, crimson droplets rolled down the steel, splashing below them.

Asa scoffed, jerking her weapon free and with a single motion, the staff extending with the smooth scraping of metal. Spinning the weapon into a blistering whirlwind between her knowing hands, she rested it over her shoulder, the weight light. Although it would be prudent to call the others Mods, the likeliness of one hearing it seemed improbable where the flames deafened.

Swaying their hips, a hiss of chords punctuated the air as the gauntlets released and fell to the ground with a sharp clank. Confused, Asa awaited for them to pick the claws up, however, they gave no incentive of doing so, only cocking their head to the side, smiling grossly. Taking a prancing step toward the Mod, the light steel of the gauntlets dragged behind. Metal scratched against the stone, sparking.

Advancing, Asa spun the staff above her head like a pinwheel, wind kicking up. Controlling her breathing, feeling the rising air abate the relentless heat, she readied to strike. Condensing her power, she visualized the invisible blades swirling around in her element and struck out. Imperceptible chakrams blasted forthwith, snaking to attack from every angle to a symphony of shredding hisses.

Her opponent’s body became that of a serpent, slithering and maneuvering about the assault. They moved in ways no human should be able to, as if not a single bone was housed within their flesh. It was almost a beautiful sight albeit eerie as they flipped about, dancing and avoiding each attack with ease. Their weapons sliced the ground, shooting up billowing sparks. All wind blades crashed into the distance, cleaving through buildings and cracking wood and stone, though not a single cut lashed across the enemy’s skin. With a final, fluid pirouette, they gave a low bow to the Mod.

“What a nice breeze,” they chimed, smirking at Asa before blowing a strand of hair from their eyes. They seemed in utter delight from the Mod’s attempt at killing them. Asa however felt heated rage boil under her skin. Propelling herself forward in a mad dash, she swung her staff at them in great circular arcs that blurred with each passing attack. However, they simply bobbed and weaved, dancing expertly between the tiniest breaks in her assault, chastising her with that same devilish grin. Although she was not sure of it, her own curses mixing in with her swings, she thought she could hear him chuckle.

Breathing through clenched teeth, she tried to cast out waves of wind but the results were the same, she was only tiring herself out faster. With one final curve of the staff, she broke off from the engagement, retracting some teen feet. Trying her best to not show her fatigue, heart throbbing in her chest, she hunched ever so slightly. “Why don’t you fight back?” She exhaled.

“It’s always much more fun to see what your opponent is capable of before showing your own hand,” they giggled. “You are a very energetic little hurricane.”

“Fuck off,” she spat.

“Not one for compliments I see. Fine. How about this?” Wiggling his fingers, small embers sparked to life, melting together into a strange sphere as his hands flowed all around it.

“So you are as I expected.”

Suddenly, from their coddled hands, a burning avian head peered at the Mod, flickering eyes blinking. Tossing the orb up into the air, blazing wings unfurled, a bird taking flight. Guiding it with delicate gestures, the flaming bird swirled and soared about majestically. Asa couldn’t help but watch the spectacle, astonished. She wanted to make a comment about showing off but drew blanks, simply positioning herself in defense, looking between the two.

The avian flew over the flames that surrounded, feeding off of them, growing in size until a monstrous phoenix hovered above the entire square, wispy wings beating boiling heat from above. An ominous, red glow cast over everything below. The fire magi’s arms spread as wide as possible and they smiled maniacally, eyes alight. “Expecting me to say something dramatic aren’t you?!” And with that his arms slashed inward.

Mimicking the enemy’s arm’s, the colossal wings of the flying demon thrashed, sending a barrage of flaming feathers darting speedily towards the ground, all trained to litter the earth in a sea of fire. Kicking up from the ground, Asa controlled the wind under her feet just in time to dodge one on coming feather that upon connecting to the ground became a rising pillar of burning hell, striking up to the blackened sky, blinding her with feverish light and peeling her skin with sweltering heat. Inhaling sharply, accompanied by wind, she scurried through the ground rupturing pillars, evading incineration left and right. Embers splashed out of the thick geysers, trickling onto her arms and legs, instantaneously searing into her flesh. Spinning wildly, she snuffed out the latching flames and backtracked, the burning sting melting into her limbs. All around her, buildings were simply evaporated, deafening explosions sounding on all sides.

Up above, the bird continued to unleash more blasts, letting loose ear piercing shrieks as its fury descended. With each attack, it reduced in size and within thirty seconds of non-stop barrages, it was no more, disintegrating into a massive form of swirling smoke. In the maelstrom of hellfire, Asa had survived, weaving madly through, blowing countless embers from clutching onto her skin. For their little power show, the Mod counted only seven burns, though it was hard to be sure. Luckily for her still, spiking adrenaline kept the pain to little more than a throbbing irritation. She was in store for much more hellish pain later.

Leaning on her staff, she huffed haggardly, heart bounding her chest and ears. Countless self-burning pyres now veiled her sight from the enemy. She had lost track of them in the catastrophe. However, they had to be just as exhausted after such an insane display. Suddenly, she was reminded of the other Mods which she had been much too busy to remember until now. A pick of ice cold horror struck up her spine, locking her joints into place. What if they had been destroyed from those blasts?

“Beautiful wasn’t it?”

At the sudden sound of the luscious voice that was way too close for comfort, Asa nearly jumped out of her skin, turning this way and that, forgetting all thought. Nothing but walls of flame lined her sight, dancing as if cheering on the battle. Though she wanted to expunge the walls with wind, her energy was nearly spent. She would need to rest. No way could she fight through another offense like that. It was in that moment of clarity that she noticed the chalky ashes clinging to her throat, drying out her mouth and wind pipe. Fighting back coughs, she focused her gaze, sweat sliding down her face in thick beads. Pressing her left forearm to her mouth to fend off any more smoke from filling her lungs, she struggled to stay upright.

“I was going to say before,” she sighed, muffled. “You really are a fucking show off.”

“I’ve only just begun!”

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a shadow within the fire and before she could turn, the enemy burst through as a blur, bicycle kicking towards her. The claws attached to his waist slashed in full moon arcs around them, sundering both earth and air. Time slowed to a crawl in that second as if the world had slowly stopped turning, and the Mod could only watch as the claws sliced right into view. Haphazardly raising her staff, she was only able to guard against the first strike, keeping it inches from her. However, the second claw whizzed past her right shoulder, slashing against her skin. Biting her tongue, Asa sucked her teeth roughly, as a sharp heat cut and melted into her flesh, sundering her skin like it was butter. Swinging her weapon in a sloppy counterattack, she hit nothing as they continued kicking away, lost and engulfed in the other side of the wall. She had only caused more pain for herself. Hot blood lashed against her uniform, and the area around her.  

Before she could collect herself, they appeared again, from yet another completely unanticipated angle. This time, it was her back that received the brunt of the attack, three daggers swiping diagonally. She was nothing but a sitting duck, waiting to be picked off now, agony snapping at her senses.

‘Fuck it.’ With the very last bit of her energy, she slammed her staff against the ground. Though not expecting anything to happen, her last ditch effort sent a powerful torrent of wind outward, waves of air shoving the flames back violently. Revealed suddenly, the fire magi simply gawked at Asa for a second before laughing loudly, nearly jumping up and down. “You still could pull off such a-“

Their voice was cut off as a glint flashed into their sight. Fluidly, they flipped on the spot, returning upright with leg extended high. Asa now kneeling, stared through sweat soaked lashes. Impossibly caught between the maniac’s toes was a wooden arrow. She immediately recognized it. Though she waited for the familiar voice belonging to the owner of the arrow to say something, it was not the one she was expecting. “Asa are you alright?!”

It was Jo. Absolutely horrified from the sight of her comrade’s beaten state, the youngest Mod couldn’t help but run up to her, quickly skidding alongside. “You are hurt bad!”

Asa wanted to feel elation at the arrival of her fellow Mods or make a clever quip, but the crushing fatigue was overpowering. It was enough for her to even nod at Jo. At their back, a good thirty paces, Mishy stood, another arrow already knocked and aimed precisely at the villain’s head with murderous intent, not uttering a word.

Snapping the wooden shaft between his colorful toes, the villain flicked the broken arrow to the ground and rolled their shoulders. “I’m meeting so many new people today!” Completely ignoring the furious tension rising from the three, they thrust their hip out. “Ready for round two? I don’t mind this handicap.”

“How about this for a handicap?!” Another voice roared, joining the fray from the left.

Suddenly from the side, a large, charging, silver shield seeped into view. With a sturdy approach, the new arrival ran at the fire Mage who in turn, elegantly stepped back, thrusting their foot forward as if it was some sort of dance move. Hidden behind the shield, Panda had little time to notice before tripping over them, flopping into the air before crashing down with a heavy thud. Air knocked out of him, Panda simply wheezed, trying his best to recover after the blunder. Hobbling to his feet, he tried to appear menacingly but after making a fool of himself, found it hard to retain eye contact.

“I’d give that entrance a two out of ten,” the fire mage teased, chuckling behind the back of their hand. “Got to work on your agility and general notice of your surroundings.”

Gawking, taken aback by the assessment, Panda felt his face scrunch up. “What the hell is up with this guy?”

“Don’t take him lightly,” Asa seethed. “He’s the one who caused this whole thing.”

“Well we saw the fire bird thing but we couldn’t fathom that it was just one person…”

While they talked amongst themselves, the enemy was simply examining their nails and flicking out any dirt from underneath them. “You might want to have your friend checked out,” they interrupted. “She’s not doing so…hot.”

Each Mod stared at him incredulously, emotions ranging from annoyance to utter confusion. “Go ahead and take your time. I’d prefer to take you all on. It would be more fun for us all! And perhaps, more fair.”

Jo hesitated but seeing the truth of the matter, helped Asa up and lending her shoulder, took her to Mishy who still aimed the enemy down. Panda took up position before them defensively, feet planted firmly. He would not make the same mistake again…he hoped.

Once Asa was brought to Mishy, the lighting Mod quickly put down her bow and focused on her control of green spirits. Though the amount of emerald spirits were sparingly in the desolation of this burning graveyard, she did her best to use all within her power. Asa leaned back and sighed softly as the warm flow of healing washed over her body, tingling like thousands of tiny currents. Scorched skin paled, and cuts seeped shut, fused closed by the spirits. With Mishy’s immense training and skill in healing magic, it took less than five minutes before the few wounds Asa sustained were healed to the best of her ability. It wasn’t perfect, but it was more than enough under the current circumstances.

“Thank you,” Asa said gratefully, the pain no longer plaguing her. With more focus returned to her, she looked to Panda’s back. “Where is Arc?”

Panda tensed at the query, it was easily apparent to all. “She couldn’t handle it,” he replied solemnly, keeping his voice down so their enemy could not hear. “The fire was too much for her. She had to retreat.”

Jo gulped. “Is she alright?”

“She just needed to get out of here.”

“Alright, that’s fine,” Asa said. Feeling her energy slowly returning, she regained her footing and normal relaxed countenance. “We should be able to handle this guy without her.”

Jo though uneasy gave a slight nod along with Mishy who was already reading her bow yet again. Across the way, the enemy indeed kept their word and let them each take a position against them. Blinking, they shifted. “Are you guys done preparing? I’m getting antsy.”

The complete lack of animosity or anger in their voice made it plainly apparent that they had no worries. Were they underestimating them? It was the only reasonable assumption that made any sense. Then again, reading this strange person was nigh impossible. “We are ready,” Mishy said darkly.

“You must pay for what you have done,” Jo added bleakly, trying to bring the same fury she had felt before in her tone, although the blood had long drained from her face, leaving her appearing pale and meek.

“Alright! Let’s do, oh wait, wait!” Reaching back to the cylinder on his back, he fiddled with an unseen switch that made no apparent difference to their weapon. Picking up the claws, he finally donned them over his hands. “Now, let’s have a fun fight!”

Panda, gritting his teeth was the first to jump to attack. Rushing for a shield bash, he closed the distance in a couple of seconds. Thrusting the thick bulwark forward, he was poised to make a clear hit. However, through all his might, the enemy simply flipped over him with acrobatic skills second to none. Panda continued to charge until he turned on his heel, skidding to a halt.

As the enemy coiled through the air, Mishy let an arrow fly, ripping through the air with a piercing whistle, ready to pin their mark. With a flick of the wrist, the arrow was diced just as the fiend landed. It was Jo to strike next. Just as the enemies feet connected to the ground, her fists became a barrage of blurs, powerful blows trained to pound whatever stood in their way. Smiling, the fire mage majestically twisted and wriggled, her fists destroying not but wind. Catching her last attack, her gauntlet clanking off his, he spun, back handing her a foot back.

Hisses sounded the next attack as blades of wind struck out at him. Again they expertly dodged them with unfathomable expertise. Asa continued to send as many as she could form, until they simply redirected them off by curving their claws in a constant moving barrier. Sparks lashed from the collisions, pushing him back but not causing any harm. Panda again tried to ram them, but missed, kicked in the back, and sent sliding on his very weapon, yelling.

The fiend bobbed in weaved each and every attack, dancing between the Mods with strikes and slashes of their own. In the onslaught of clangs and shredding metal, their insane laugh peaked above all. Two Mods, Jo and Panda running at him, the enemy suddenly threw their claws either way, whizzing towards both at an impossible speed. Guarded, they reflected them into the air simultaneously. However as the claws soared upwards, the chord attached to both hissed, pulling the blades instantaneously back to their owner.

Their battle raged on, the enemy using their strange weapons to reduce the handicap into obscurity, whip like claws lashing against them all. With no trouble at all, they contained each and every attack the Mods threw at them, whipping one claw at one while slashing at another. Magic yielded as little to no result as well against them, simply rebuffed by his own bizarre fire magic. Mishy had even tested a few strikes of lightning, nothing coming of it but beautiful blue streaks of light that nearly clapped into her comrades during the chaotic farce of a battle. Panda tried throwing his shield, using the wind to control its movement but just ended up losing it and nearly burned to a crisp multiple time trying to retrieve it. A combined tornado between the two wind mods was evolved into a flaming vortex that they ended up controlling against them. Unfortunately for Jo, she had not stocked up on casks of water, having no way of using her magic. In the end, hitting this person was all but a fools dream.

Before long, each Mod was battered to exhaustion, each of them retaining scrapes and wounds while the enemy remained entirely unscathed. Finally, the Mods made up a defensive line a few feet back, haggardly breathing side by side, nearly leaning on one another. Across from them, the fire mage danced. “You guys are so much fun! And none of you have been killed yet! Despite me going at…” They trailed off looking to the blanketed sky. “Twenty five percent? No, no, more like fifteen!”

Each Mod glared back, plainly unamused at their revelation. More than a couple imagined decapitating the cocky fire mage. “Who the hell even are you?” Asa spat, nose wrinkling in anger.

“Ah! It does make sense that you would want to know your betters name! Forgive my lack of manners! My name is Jakul! Pleasure!”

Asa couldn’t help but snort but nobody understood why.

“It would be a pleasure to bash your fucking skull in,” Panda shot, grasping the bleeding slash at his flank.

“I don’t really care to know your names,” they rebuffed, neglecting Panda’s remark, wagging their head. “Should I just kill you all now?” They were talking more to themselves at this point, pacing from side to side. “You did provide quite the bit of entertainment. Plus, if we were to meet again at a later junction, you may provide more of a challenge. That is if you train more. Would do you all good.” Clanging the claws together they nodded furiously. “It’s decided! I’ll let you live this time! Consider it pity or what have you! Bring you’re A game next time, should we meet again!” The last line sounded much more like a warning, his voice suddenly as sharp as a dagger digging at ones throat. “Do enjoy your evening alive, courteous of me!”

Reeling around, they waved, sauntering towards the towering walls of flame that continued to burn incessantly, form sinking into the blazing sea before completely melting away from sight. Jo, hands on her knees coughed, fighting back stinging tears. “We couldn’t do anything…”

“The damage was already done,” Mishy said. “They would have killed us. Not in one moment did they seem distressed in the slightest at our combined skill. No good would have come of us dying too.”

Though it was a slightly rough way of putting it, she was indeed correct. Each of them was defeated. With no more reason to loiter, the dense air and burning stink clawing to drive them mad, they finally decided to leave. As a group, they exited the remnants of the town back to where they arrived from.

Sitting on the grassy knoll, bawled up, Arc clutched both hands over her head. At the sound of their footsteps, she shuddered. “I’m so sorry! The fire was too much for me!”

“The fire was too much for us all,” Asa sighed, completely hollowed.

Freezing, Arc finally looked up at her battered friends and stared behind her mask. “Was there many?”

“Just one,” Panda replied, toneless. “They beat us back completely without a single scratch.”

“It’s my fault,” Arc rasped.

“No,” Asa butted in. “Even with you I feel the results would have been the same.”

“Raz would have been useful,” Panda grumbled. “Seriously where is he?”

“How the hell should we know?” Asa exclaimed, throwing up her arms and immediately regretting it, body sore.

“What’s more important right now is getting to Mayor Malin to deliver the news,” Mishy said tiredly. “Does anyone know how to get there? We sort of lost our means of fast travel.”

Digging out a compass, they looked as a group. Considering this was a borderland village, heading east should lead them directly to Udde. Exhaustion and defeat plaguing their steps, they left the smoldering city at their backs, the lost souls wafting into the ashen wind, a horrible scene none of these Mods would ever forget along with the fire devil that caused it.

 Twas during the village search and disastrous battle between the Mods and the fiery fiend that the lone shadow appeared a couple miles off. He stood motionless within an all-encompassing woodland. Crickets chirped their nightly songs, filling the fresh, cool air with a constant, peaceful drone. Hardly discernable, other voices joined with the sounds of nature, jovial and celebratory. Between thick oaks, sparks of light filtered through. An ominous glow cast over the visor of the shadow’s helmet, staring through the trees. Gripped tightly in his gloved hand, the black serrated blade that had ended countless lives, glinted a deep purple in the lively flickers.  

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