#cw past human weapon

[frightwrite]

Werewolf Boyfriend: Aiden

CW: Breeding, Mention of pregnancy, Biting, Mention of blood

NSFW

Female Reader x Male Werewolf

It has been almost a week since your boyfriend last contacted you. It was a common occurrence, something that happened once every month. You at first assumed it was a work thing, too many projects added up before a quarter ended. But then the excuses started to come in. He needed to head back home to spend time with his family, he felt so sick he didn’t want to pass it onto you, unexpected guests. The list was never ending. It was starting to get to the point where you were assuming he had a secret lover. From your perspective it was the only logical option. Enough was enough you were going to get to the bottom of this.

That evening, Aiden had called you saying he wouldn’t be at his home since he had too much work in his office to fill out. As usual, you gave him the usual sugar-coated response of seeing him after he was done. As soon as the call hung up, you half haphazardly threw on your shirt and jeans before snatching your boyfriend’s spare key off the countertop. You probably looked insane, speeding down the highway in a fit of rage to catch your boyfriend red handed. It was a miracle you weren’t pulled over.

When you arrived at his secluded home on the outskirts of town, you used the key to enter. It was clear even before you set foot past the threshold that his place looked as though a tornado had ripped through it. His living room which was normally kept neat and orderly, had many of his books thrown around. The coffee table was flipped over and there were scratch marks in the leather of the couch. There were a bunch of rose petals and stems on the floor mixed in with shards of glass from a broken vase. You carefully stepped over it, trying not to accidentally step on any of the glass. The house was dark, save for a few novelty lamps that Aiden kept around throughout the home. The dim lighting created an eerie presence that you weren’t too sure about.

Your anger was quickly replaced with fear as you called out your boyfriend’s name, a slight tremble in your voice. It was like something out of a horror movie, and you mentally hit yourself for acting in such a cliche way. Calling out into the emptiness of the house was a quick and easy way to get yourself killed if the intruder was still there. Your heart sank at the thought, your eyes scanning the room to find a weapon to defend yourself with. Silently hoping that despite the mess and clear look of a struggle, you were able to find Aiden in one piece.

A long wooden beam from one of the broken dining room chairs was leaned up against the wall. It was basic, but it was a good enough weapon to hit an unsuspecting murderer over the head with. It could buy you some time. You called out Aiden’s name again as you made your way deeper into the house, a new found determination guiding you through the terrifying situation. 

A low rumble coming from the bedroom made you freeze. It didn’t sound human, and for a moment you wondered if whatever trashed Aiden’s place was one of the animals from the woods nearby. Your mind settled on it being a bear and you decided to try to be as quiet as possible from that point on. The grip you had on your makeshift weapon tightened as you took another step forward. As if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you, the floorboard creaked underneath your foot. You only had time to let out a brief curse before a heavy object flew into you, slamming you onto the floor. The air was pushed out of your lungs and your vision was blurred as your head spun. A low rumbling sound was heard above you after the ringing in your ears stopped and you blinked up at the black mass above you in confusion. Sitting on your body was a giant wolf like being. His beady eyes peered down at you as he let out a low growl. You stilled, your blood running cold as your heart hammered against your chest. 

The furry beast above you kept snarling, his sharp teeth bared and visible in the low lighting. He leaned down and you squeezed your eyes shut as his wet nose pressed against your neck. This was it, you were going to die at the hands of a rabid wolf monster and the last thoughts you had of your boyfriend were him cheating on you. You gave a silent apology to Aiden, waiting for you to befall the same unfortunate fate he had. Only, nothing happened. There was another brief pause until you felt something rough and wet against your neck. You shuddered at the feeling before reopening your eyes. The monster above you stared down at you, his ears now pressed flat against his head as he seemed to want to shrink into himself. 

A strange sound between a whimper and a howl left his jaw as he moved his large body off of you, giving you a moment to catch your breath and sit up. You gave the creature a curious look as the wolf creature said your name. Your eyes widened and you pushed away from the beast to bring distance between the two of you. 

“Why are you here?” He snarled. 

“I’m sorry? I don’t, um—” You tried speaking, feeling your voice get caught in your throat. He let out a low grumble. 

“It’s Aiden.”

You blinked. 

The werewolf in front of you watched as you stared at him, squinting your eyes as you assessed him and his demeanor. He remained unmoving, yet his heavy breathing was still filling in for the silence. The realization came across your face as you inched closer to him, staring into his familiar eyes. 

“Who…what happened to you?” Your voice quivered, a small amount of fear flashed on your face as he let out another snarl. Aiden seemed to struggle internally with himself,  his wolfish face turning away from you to avoid both your gaze and your scent. He moved to create space between the both of you again, his hulking form crouched on his hind legs as his beady eyes watched you intently from a safe distance. 

“Lycanthropy.” His voice was low as he spoke again, yet there was a hint of shame behind it as he shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this, ever. Especially tonight.”

You let what he said register in your mind before asking, “What’s so special about tonight?”

A low growl, this time his gaze turned to you briefly. “Heat cycle.”

Oh

Oh.

Your face got heated with embarrassment as you readjusted yourself. The only reason your boyfriend was avoiding you was because it was his werewolf breeding season thing and not because he was cheating on you. Which, when you put it that way, caused your heart to leap. You and Aiden weren’t virgins, having both already had sex with each other multiple times. You knew his body well. The little scars on his hands from various paper cuts, the mole just above his v-line, the little freckles on his torso. 

The large fuzzy body of Aiden now was new. Different…unexplored. His heated gaze watched as you stood up and closed the distance between the both of you. He backed away from you until his back hit against the hallway’s wall. His clawed hand shot up in front of him as the other went to cover his muzzle. 

“Don’t.” He growled, causing you to pause in your tracks. “Don’t you come any closer. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You paused in your approach, the panic-stricken look only motivating you to alleviate his worries. Without another word, your hands reached up to unbutton the blouse you wore, tossing the shirt to the side. You could hear Aiden’s breath hitch at the sight of your bare chest, quickly taking notice how you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. You were in a hurry to leave your house and taking the extra time to put on a bra seemed tedious at that moment.

You approached Aiden who was captivated by your presence. His eyes staring hungrily at your curvy frame. He had seen you naked many times, but his senses seemed heightened. He was more affected by you and it took everything within him not to pounce on you right then and there. You slotted yourself between his legs, hands reaching up to caress the sides of his furry face. There was a low rumble that came from within him as you assumed you were managing to break through the wall he had put up. Your lips curved into a sweet smile, leaning closer so your chest pressed up against his. You shuddered at the feeling of your breasts rubbing against his fur, your nipples hardening at the contact. You lifted your chin up and stood on your toes, your lips brushed against the tip of his muzzle. 

“I want to help you, Aiden.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. You watched excitedly as he growled down at you, before picking you up as though you weighed nothing. He spent no time taking you into his bedroom, the room looking a little worse for wear. This room looked the worst out of the others and as he walked towards his bed, you noticed a few of the panties you would leave at his place scattered across the floor. You could only imagine what he was using those for. He threw you onto the bed and you didn’t have a chance to register your train of thought before he towered over you.

“You…have no idea what you’re asking me to do to you.” His large hands pinned yours onto the mattress, his voice a low rumble as he spoke to you. The tone he had sounded feral, the low growl causing you to feel butterflies in your stomach. He leaned down, licking your neck and biting your shoulder to mark you. You yelped as you could feel small trickles of blood leak down your shoulder. The feeling of his teeth on you made you rub your thighs together in anticipation and you could already feel yourself throbbing with need. 

His focus went to your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick the valley between them before his mouth latched onto one of your nipples. His attention to your breasts had you squirming from his touch, moaning out his name just from how he sucked on your nipples. His tongue then went lower down your chest and past your stomach. He licked and left occasional love bites along the way, marking up your body more. He stopped when his muzzle brushed against your jeans, a low guttural sound came from his throat as he pressed his nose to your clothed cunt. He inhaled your scent, the smell intoxicating him causing him to pant. His hips rut against the bedsheets, desperate to feel some type of friction on his hardened cock. 

Your own arousal was obvious when he peered up at you with his wolfish eyes. The predatory gaze he had on you made a shudder crawl up your spine. He was holding back, waiting. He desperately needed your approval before he could continue and he was still weary about hurting you by mistake. You clicked your tongue, lifting your hips up in a feeble attempt to rub against his muzzle. 

“Please, Aiden,” You begged. “Just fuck me already.”

That was the last restraint you finally snapped off of him and he instantly tore off your jeans. You gasped, frowning at the sight of your favorite pair of jeans being torn to shreds but quickly forgot about them as soon as the werewolf kneeling in front of you began to ravage your cunt with his tongue. 

“You taste…so good...so sweet.” You could hear his muffled growls and groans as he ate you out. It was sloppy, and you were making a mess of him as you got closer to the edge. His claws dug into your plump thighs, pushing them together so your legs rested over his shoulders squeezing his head between them. His tongue flicked over your clit, the feeling making you cry out his name again. Your thighs clenched around him as you came, your back arching slightly off the bed as you shook from your orgasm. 

You tried to catch your breath as Aiden kept licking and slurping up your juices. When he finally pulled away from you, you could see in the dim lighting his cock was erect. You let out a quiet gasp when you saw how big he was, much bigger than the previous times you had sex with him. A dark chuckle came from Aiden as he climbed onto the bed to peer down at you. His arms were on either side of your body, his large form caging you against the mattress.

“Scared? I’m much bigger than before…” His cock rested against your stomach, and seeing just how far it would stretch into you caused your cunt to clench around nothing. You were desperate for him to breed you, to bury his cock into you and fuck you until you passed out. Aiden lifted you suddenly and flipped you over onto your stomach, pushing you into the mattress as he rubbed his cock against your slick entrance. He was panting heavily above you and you kept a firm grip on the bed sheets to brace yourself for when he entered you. 

“Gonna fill you up…” He growled, slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. You could feel your pussy stretching around his girth, already trying to adjust to his large size. Despite how desperate Aiden was to breed you, he still slowly sheathed his cock into you until he couldn’t fit himself inside you anymore. He waited just a moment, taking it as a silent approval when you switched your grip on the bed sheets to hold onto his wrist. He slowly pulled himself out of you before slamming back into you. 

You cried out at the sudden change in speed as Aiden lost any part of him that was hesitant. Now all that was left was this beast that had one animalistic desire to fuck you into the mattress. His pace quickened, growling at the site of his cock plunging into you. He didn’t stop the quick pace he was going at, his balls slapping against your clit every time he rutted against you. The tip of his dick briefly touched your cervix and you could help but try to rock your hips back into him just to replicate the same feeling again. 

You were a mess, tears streaming down your face as your lips opened to let out nothing but a slur of moans and Aiden’s name. Aiden roared above you, his claws tearing into the mattress as he clenched his hands into the bedding. The wet claps filled the room along with your pleas to be filled, the sound only urging Aiden to pound into you more. “So pretty for me…I’m not stopping…want to cum…fill you up….so bad.” 

You weren’t sure if that was Aiden speaking to you or the beast within him, either way his words only urged you to desperately beg for his cum. You were reaching another climax again, your pussy clenching tightly around Aiden’s cock as he thrust into you a few more times before coming to a halt. You could feel him enter deep inside you, his hot cum filling your needy pussy as he lifted his head to let out a wolfish howl. You could feel his knot pressing into you, plugging your hole so not a drop of his cum would leak out of you. He didn’t want any of it going to waste. He panted above you, and you felt lightheaded. You both tried to regain your breath, your sweaty body pressed into the mattress as Aiden kept you pinned down.  

It wasn’t long before Aiden’s knot calmed down enough for him to pull out of you as he flipped you over onto your back. You were spent, breathing heavily and still trying to come down from your high before Aiden’s erect cock entered your ravished hole again. He pinned your arms to the bed, leaning down and licking at the bite marks he had left on your breast. You let out a soft whimper, already anticipating the long breeding session he was about to put you through.

“We’re not done,” He growled your name, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he left another bite onto your collarbone. “I’m breeding you until your tummy swells with my pups.”

[More Monsters]

[obsessivevoidkitten]

On The Naughty List

Yandere Krampus x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, spanking, bondage, dick piercings, size difference, Krampus, Christmas, assassin reader, punishment, kidnapping, biting, very mild blood from biting, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.5k (Hey guys, I hope you all like this. Kinda rushed, not beta read, please forgive any errors. My second Christmas gift to you all. I hope your holiday is amazing <3)

You got yourself settled in your hotel room. It was very early in the morning, not past 3am, on Christmas. But you were not Santa Claus and you were not delivering cheer. You had with you only a simple black suitcase. The furnishings in your room were sparse, but that was okay. You did not select this room because of the accommodations but rather for its view. It was not particularly scenic, merely a view of a road and residential area. But you were an assassin and this room afforded you clear aim into the room of your target’s living room. All you had to do was wait.

Your weapon was easy enough to assemble. A sniper rifle, of course. Finally you saw your designated victim pull up into their driveway and enter their house, so you opened the window and readied yourself. An icy chill filled the room. Your vantage point was clear and your weapon was ready but before you could take out your mark you heard a strange and tumultuous sound from behind.

It sounded like the Earth was being torn asunder and the four winds themselves were howling in unison as they collided.

You turned around and saw the very fabric of space and tear before you leaving a purple portal leaking black mist blocking the door to the hotel room. An odd scent like that of cinnamon and coal filled the room. You were about to flee through the open window, you had the skills necessary to scale the building, but the window slammed shut before you could act.

Not many things made a hardened combatant turned assassin such as yourself scared but you would be lying if you said you weren’t trembling.

You could hear a slow and rhythmic pounding sound getting nearer and nearer as if some unseen monstrosity approached from the other side of the portal. And that’s exactly what it was.

The first thing you saw erupt through the rip in space was the head of a horned beast. It was humanoid and wore a wicked grin full of sharp teeth. Eyes like black coals stared into you, piercing you with unrestrained glee in your fear.

Followed by this terrifying face was its body.

Muscular thighs with legs like tree trunks that ended in cloven hooves.. And his whip-like tail lashed angrily at the air. The demonic beast was covered in thick black fur.

The horrifying creature was at least 7 feet. tall.

The faint scent of burning coal filled the space surrounding it.

It took a thundering step towards you, and you cowered in place, momentarily stunned as it said in a deep booming voice, "I’m Krampus and someone has been verrrry naughty this yeeeear."

Though you felt more fear than you ever thought possible you were still a trained combatant turned assassin for hire and you managed to collect yourself about as well as it was possible for any mere human to in such a situation.

You shot the thing right between the eyes with your high-powered rifle, and he... laughed. The bullet bounced off uselessly, and he just... laughed...

You screamed and shouted as loudly as you could, hoping to attract help. Though what they could possibly do when he had shrugged off, a bullet remained to be seen.

No help came for you. Krampus always magically silenced noise from leaking out of rooms where he was punishing someone.

Suddenly, he closed the difference between the two of you and was upon you in record speed, moving supernaturally fast for such a behemoth.

With precise movements, strong hands and sharp claws made confetti out of your dark clothing before he had you bent over his knee.

"I usually use a birch rute for this, but I wanna feel your skin on my hand..."

You struggled and tried to get away, but there was no chance he would let you go. Krampus had to punish many humans, but you were special. Ironically, it was your defiance, the fight in your eyes, that initially attracted him to you.

His hard, calloused hand came down on your bare ass, causing you to curse and tremble.

With all your training something as simple as a slap to your ass shouldn't have bothered you much, even from such a large adversary, but it was like he had slammed the essence of dread into your very heart.

But that still wasn't enough to still you. You kicked, punched, and clawed ferally at any inch of flesh you could reach, like a feral animal backed into a corner.

But he only laughed more as he spanked you over and over. Until you were crying. Worse than the pain was the total humiliation.

Through it all, though, you never stopped struggling. No matter how much terror and pain you endured. You didn't realize it, but it only made him more into you.

Everyone he had punished before, broke them like a kid with a toy, and left them to deal with the trauma. But you didn't seem so easily broken, and that sealed your fate.

If you kept resisting like you were, he was going to keep you forever.

Krampus finally stopped the assault on your rear and dragged you, kicking and screaming over to the bed. You could now see his cock, large and uncut with a frenum ladder set of piercings going up the underside of his length.

"Stop! Get away from me!!"

"Yeah, because you're really the one in position to give commands right now."

He chuckled and bent you over the bed as you writhed madly, knowing what was about to happen.

"Might need to keep you still for this."

In a puff of black smoke, a coil of rope appeared in his hand that he skillfully used to bind your legs and arms.

While he had tied up many people in his line of work, he had never actually used rape to punish someone. But he wanted to see how far he could take things with you. Though at this point, even if he broke you, he was sure he would keep you anyway, just to fix you up again.

Krampus spit on your hole and plunged his cock in roughly. Hardly enough prep to do anything for the pain. For the fiery burning stretch that came with his big dick breaching your entrance.

Despite being bound you still wriggled as best you could while screaming until your throat hurt.

"Fuck you! Goddamned piece o- AHHHH!!!!"

He smirked as he increased the pace. Good. His toy STILL wasn't crumbling apart.

Sharp claws raked your back as his hot breath cascaded down your neck while he whispered, "For someone so bad you feel so good."

Tears rushed down your cheeks. You were infuriated with him and with yourself for having allowed yourself to be taken with such ease. What was far more reprehensible than that though, was the fact that your body had adjusted to his size and it was actually starting to feel somewhat good despite the pain and discomfort.

You yelped as he lightly smacked your sore ass while fucking you.

"Go to H-hell bastard!"

"Ha, been there."

He pulled out, flipped you over on your back, and slid right back into, profuse amounts of precum now providing more adequate lubrication. Embarrassingly, you couldn't stifle a moan as he entered back into you with his piercings adding to the sensation you were trying to ignore.

If your legs hadn't been tied you would have tried to kick him right between the legs for making your body betray you like that.

He leaned over and nibbled on your neck lightly with his sharp teeth, licking up the little droplets of blood that welled to the surface of your skin

You moaned as he did so, as you were pulled closer and closer to orgasm.

Violently, you twitched as you came hard, blushing deeply and cursing him as you did so. He ignored you and licked the blush on your cheeks, humiliating you even farther.

For a few more moments you thrashed as much as you were able in overstimulation as he continued to breed you. His skin meeting yours with an audible slap at each thrust.

Finally he went in deep and filled you with abnormally hot cum that coaxed another orgasm from your exhausted body.

After a few moments of panting he sighed with content and slung you over his shoulders, cum leaking from you and out on to him as he carried you. Vulgarities rolling from your tongue with each heavy step he took.

Another portal opened and he stepped through with you. The cussing, the fierceness, the unbreakable spirit. A perfect partner.

You were the best Christmas gift he had ever given himself, and there was no way he was ever going to give you up.

[latenightdaydreams]

Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, non-con, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

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💖Set in the 1980s💖

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It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

 The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

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König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

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You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

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König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.  

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground.  Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

[prentissluvr]

but daddy i love him — sam winchester

cw : gn!empath!reader, light angst, fluff, some canon typical violence, demons, mentions of weapons, emotional manipulation/some emotional abuse in reader's past/presence, dean's kinda mean for a bit, kissing, food/drink mentions, poor editing, 11.3K words. listen to but daddy i love him by taylor swift. requested !

summary : you were raised sheltered from the world, but once you meet sam, you come to understand what freedom means. ౨ৎ . . . [ empath : has the ability to read and manipulate anyone's emotions. not the psychology kind lol ]

you’re not a demon, though you’re certainly no angel. in all technically, you suppose that you’re closer to a demon since they used to be human. not that you’d want to be put in the same box as any single demon, but you know that they feel some emotions. angels, you’re told, do not. to you, that’s quite a strange concept. someday, you’d like to meet one to see if it’s true.

and though you are not a demon, you’ve learned very well how to be like one, or at the very least how to feel like one. this is only helpful because your uncle, the demon who raised you (who is not your real uncle, nor related to you at all) wants you to be just like him. that implies being entirely uncaring and mostly unfeeling, with the exceptions for feelings being guiltless, hatred, annoyance, generally anything negative and parallel with aggression, and pleasure in the face of enacting pain or evil things upon somebody else.

having been surrounded by exactly that for as long as you can remember, you have no trouble pretending to be that way. in actuality, you find it totally impossible to embody it in truth. you, opposite to demons, are especially in tune with all aspects of your humanity. this does include the bad, but you’ve spent your life clinging to and longing for the good. plus, you don’t particularly enjoy experiencing the constant negativity that rolls off of most demons and right onto you. although your powers are geared towards other humans and you can’t read or manipulate demons’ emotions as easily, you learned to use your powers on them before anything else.

today, you accompany a crossroads demon, as per usual. your uncle has you trying a new tactic to aid in soul-collection. unfortunately for you, it's been working well and you have to pretend more often than not that your powers are failing you when they’re working just fine. you feel like a door-to-door salesman for guaranteed painful death and torture until one’s humanity is ripped away, all under the guise of pretty or petty dreams come true.

your accompanying demon, russell, is one of your least favorites. you don’t really like any of them, but unfortunately, russell is one of your uncle’s most trusted. you think it’s stupid, because you’re able to tell that he’s a coward and most likely not as trust-worthy as your uncle thinks. personally, you just find him annoying.

russell approaches the next house, knocking on the door as you lag behind. the man at the last house sold his soul in exchange to look ten years younger. not everyone exchanges their lives for such stupid reasons, but when they do, it makes you feel extra disgusted by the work you have to participate in. but for the sake of fooling your uncle, you pretend to enjoy it. someday, you might get away… you just don’t know what you’d do or how you’d survive.

the owner of the house opens the door, and the second she sees you and russell, dressed in suits and smiling all fake, her annoyance and skepticism immediately become apparent to you. your first order of business is to push that away and replace it with openness, curiosity, and a little bit of desire to get her to listen to you. since you “failed” at the first three houses and were successful at the last one, russell expects you to make this one work as well. it takes a bit of concentration to keep everything subtle and slow so that she doesn’t notice anything too strange.

when she greets you, she smiles a little and you know that you were successful. you let russell do all the talking as you continually feed the woman more desire and assuredness. little by little, you tug at her hesitation, pulling it away as russell gives her his pitch.

“anything you could ever dream of for the small price of your soul!” he lies about how small of a price it is and you mask your abundant discomfort. the more and better you do for your uncle, the more he lets you off of your figurative leash. the woman, mrs. hadley, as she introduced herself, is on the verge of saying yes. you’re seated in the living room as she goes on about how her one wish is for her young son to be treated well at school. you debate sabotaging the deal to save her, when the door bangs open and two men burst into the house, both sporting various weapons.

mrs. hadley screams and your concentration snaps. immediately, her fear and confusion wash over you, along with everything else that the two men and russell are feeling. suddenly quite overwhelmed, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before remembering you’re under threat. russell curses loudly, and when you snap your eyes open, he’s halfway across the room as he sprints full speed for the back door.

“sam!” shouts one of the men, nodding towards you and the frightened mrs. hadley as he takes off after russell. the other man, now dubbed sam, points his knife at you and begins rehearsing a latin exorcism.

“i’m not a demon, i swear,” you say, slowly standing and putting your hands up in surrender. his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you also sense his urgency and protectiveness, but you don’t sense as much aggression in him as you’d expected. the rush of that which you’d felt before must have been from the other man.

“then what are you?” he asks, voice gruff as he slowly approaches, trying to carefully manuever in between you and mrs. hadely.

“i’m human,” you answer, honest but withholding the full truth. “i promise,” you plead, trying to gauge his reaction without actually manipulating his feelings. when sam reaches mrs. hadley, he holds his arm in front of her protectively. there’s still fear and utter confusion rolling off of her.

“wh–what the hell is going on?” she asks, voice panicked.

“it’s alright,” sam reassures, trying to be as gentle as possible. “you just can’t make that deal. it’ll get you killed.”

“what? killed, i– but it seemed– it seemed fine?” you can feel doubt creep into mrs. hadley as well as she questions why she trusted you and russell so much without any real reason.

“trust me, whatever they promised you, it’s not worth it,” sam emphasizes. mrs. hadely goes to speak again, but sam returns his attention back to you. “what are you doing with a demon?”

“i… they have me trapped,” you say in a half-lie.

he clenches his jaw, but most of his distrust subsides because he feels more concerned for mrs. hadley than you. he tucks his knife somewhere accessible, and turns to the woman to comfort her. he tries to explain without too much detail that she should never sell her soul to anyone, but that it’s best if she tries to forget this all. but it’s clear to both you and him that she’s just panicking more and more. you easily read the way that sam wants to help her and it makes you want to do the same.

you mean to just send mrs. hadley a touch of calm and comfort, just so sam can get through to her. but you yourself are panicked and overwhelmed, never having been in such an out-of-control situation, and your strong desire to help her comes out unfiltered and unhindered by your usual careful control when you deal with humans. suddenly, mrs. hadley is grinning from joy, even laughing a little. for a moment, this seems fine to you. you fixed her fear, didn’t you?

but sam turns even more confused and worried. this, in turn, confuses you and breaks your concentration, and she falls back into an even stronger fear as she realizes starkly that she’s been experiencing emotions that aren’t her own.

she bursts into tears. “what– what was that?” she cries. you feel quite overwhelmed by her strong emotions.

you frown deeply. “i– i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to– i mean, i was just trying to help. i didn’t want want you to feel so afraid. i can help, though, i promise. i just– i was distracted and humans can be so sensitive.” you begin to approach with your hands still in the air, but you halt when her fear spikes even more and sam’s hesitance returns in full. they don’t want you near. you consider manipulating both of their emotions, just to get them to allow you closer, but you think better of it at the last second. they might grow even more wary if they notice the change in their own feelings.

“did you do that?” sam asks.

you deflate in guilt. “i’m sorry,” you say again, filling your voice with sincerity, “i didn’t mean to scare you,” you look at mrs. hadley, then proceed carefully, “but i can help, just a little, i won’t do anything crazy– i– i can’t do anything crazy, i promise. and i can make sure that no one ever bothers you again. you don’t have to let me close if you don’t want me to, but i really can help. just to… to calm things down a little and– and leave a little room for you to process. or, of course, i can just go and you’ll never see me or that guy again.” you look between sam and mrs. hadley, trying to calm yourself so you can get a proper read on both of their emotions without overloading yourself with all the information. mrs. hadley is just about as confused and scared as before, but you think that sam’s reassuring presence is helping her. you’re not so sure that your words have done anything to help. sam himself is still hesitant, but as some of his wariness slips away, you think he might be willing to hear you out or at least let you go unscathed.

“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” comes a gruff voice from behind you, along with the kiss of cold metal on the back of your neck. it’s a gun, you presume. you slowly lift your hands back up, having forgotten about the other man’s presence when he disappeared to take care of russell. you turn your attention to his feelings instead of the other two in case you need to use your powers to try and save yourself. he’s got aggression, calm anger, and a whole lot of protectiveness practically spilling out of him. he thinks you’re dangerous. he’s not necessarily wrong, but you really aren’t a danger to them, not unless you have to be.

“i’m telling the truth, i swear. please, just– just let me go.” you keep your voice steady, but pleading, trying not to let on just how scared you are but also appeal to their sympathy. you’re in danger, something that you’re completely unused to despite the way you grew up all around it.

“and let you get back to those demon bitches? not a chance. what even are you?” the man’s voice is unforgiving as he digs the gunpoint further into your skin, pressing for answers. you wince.

“dean, wait,” sam interrupts, “i don’t think they’re trying to hurt anyone,” he says, trying to reason before dean gets any more violent.

“sam, they’re clearly working with demons. i think that qualifies as trying to hurt people. we don’t even know if they’re human,” dean counters.

you’re about to speak again in your own defense when a familiar voice fills your ears.

“it’s always you boys, isn’t it? i should have known that the winchesters would crash my little soul-collecting party,” your uncle drawls.

“crowley,” sam growls, and you’re suddenly flooded with his anger.

your uncle completely ignores sam in favor of dean. “i kindly ask that you let my sweet pet go, squirrel.”

dean turns around, pulling you with him. “so they’re with you?” dean asks, voice accusatory.

“they are. and if you don’t hand them over, i will knock you out cold without a second thought. your choice, of course, darling,” crowley quips. you’re highly confused. the three clearly know each other, but your uncle has never mentioned anyone like the “winchesters” before. dean grows even more suspicious of you, sam confused and worried, and you know very well that crowley is only barely covering up his total anger. he’s anything but pleased to have found you in this situation.

“tell me why, and i’ll hand them over,” dean bargians, not realizing just how much he’s pissing crowley off. your uncle doesn’t even wait to answer before sending dean flying across the room and grabbing your wrist.

“let’s go,” he grumbles, tugging you along with him. you glance back at sam, who moves forward, trying to stop crowley until he too gets flung into the wall.

“uncle!” you shout in protest. “wait, i need to–”

“absolutely not,” he shouts back, “what the hell were you thinking? how’d you mess up a simple deal so horribly?”

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly remembering yourself. he’ll only grow more angry if you continue to protest.

“damn those winchesters,” he grumbles to himself. as he drags you home, he continually complains about them, cursing that you got mixed up with them and pounding into your head that you should never, ever get involved with the winchesters.

⟢⟢⟢

honeybee cafe is just about the only solace that you have. it’s away from your uncle and the other demons, the place you always come when you’re allowed out without supervision. on top of that, it’s small and quiet, and you never visit during crowded hours. technically, you’re required by crowley to stay somewhere with other people so you can practice your powers on them. you picked this cafe for it’s cozy, quiet atmosphere, and the general lack of patrons from one to three pm. that way, you’re never overwhelmed by too many emotions. it’s usually just you, another regular or two, and the few workers. maybe it’s a little odd, but you feel secretly close with the people whose emotions you tune into over and over again. and you certainly don’t manipulate their emotions as crowley likely wishes you would.

you always sit in the corner furthest from the door, facing the rest of the small shop so that you can keep an eye on anyone who comes in or chooses to stay inside. sitting with your favorite beverage and a book you picked up from the library beforehand, you relish the comfort and warmth of the sunlight coming in from the window behind you. your room at home has no windows, and that just about kills you. you love windows.

only the soft tinkle of the bell on the cafe door interrupts the focus you lend to the book in front of you, and you look up on instinct. your breath catches in your throat as you immediately recognize the man who walks in. he doesn’t notice you, but you watch him as he orders a coffee. as he waits off to the side, you turn slightly, and you’re too late to cast your eyes down before he catches your gaze. his face lights up in recognition and surprise. he takes a step towards you before he’s interrupted by the barista’s call of his name. quickly, he takes the cup from their hand and thanks them before turning back to you. you weren’t planning on speaking to him, not after your strange first encounter and crowley’s warnings against him, but you feel an odd sort of relief when it becomes clear that he wants to approach you, to talk to you. he had left an impression on you when you’d met. he’d just seemed so… good.

his eyes flicker around the cafe as he comes closer, likely looking for signs of demons.

“i’m alone,” you assure him, smiling carefully as he gets close enough. he nods, slowly sitting across from you when you nod at the seat. “though i have to be back by evening or someone will come looking for me,” you explain, mouth forming a small frown as you think about it. he’s confused and concerned as he looks at you, and it feels sort of nice to guess that he’s maybe worried about you.

he seems unsure of what to say, so he just jumps right into it. “i never caught your name. i’m sam winchester, though i’m sure you got that before. can i ask… are you an empath? i did some research since we last met.” he gives you a tense sort of smile, not because he’s nervous, but just because this second meeting feels very awkward.

you nod and give him your name before anything else. “and yes, i am an empath,” you confirm, unsure if you should explain further or not. he seems to understand well enough.

he’s a bit more hesitant the next time he speaks. “and can you explain your… situation? you said you were trapped, and crowley seemed very possessive of you… but i thought i heard you call him uncle? whatever it is, i can help you get away from him, my brother and i have dealt with crowley too many times to count.”

his immediate offer to help and instinct to suggest you just leave crowley are both sort of overwhelming to you, but a part of you likes his words.

“oh. i– well, it’s complicated. crowley, he’s– he’s sort of my only family.” sam’s eyebrows raise a little in questioning. “we’re not actually related, or anything, but he raised me. he’s– well, he’s taught me everything i know and… i can’t– i can’t really leave. besides, he’s really not all that bad,” you try to excuse, suddenly feeling oddly defensive in a way that you can’t really explain. “and i get days to myself like this, i– i have my freedom, i just… before, i didn’t want you to think i was trying to hurt people, or that i like to, but uncl– crowley doesn’t really know… that i don’t like the things that he… that he asks me to do for him.”

suddenly, this wave of sad understanding rolls over you from sam, and you’re not sure why. his face doesn’t change much as he listens, but to you it seems like he thinks you’ve said something so sad.

“but it’s alright,” you quickly try to amend, “he thinks i’m weaker than i really am. that way he doesn’t suspect when most demon deals i’m a part of fail. i have to… i have to get some to work so that he thinks i’m trying, but i promise i try to hurt the least amount of people possible. and.. and he still lets me have my days out when the deals fall through. i botched two yesterday, but i’m still here, aren’t i?” you attempt at sounding lighthearted, but sam’s sadness doesn’t go away much. instead, you just feel compassion blooming from him as well.

“i understand,” he says kindly, “i didn’t think you were trying to hurt people. i believe you.” he’s completely sincere and you realize that that’s not something you’re too used to from almost anybody you talk to.

“thank you,” you sigh in relief, smiling and trying to show him that you’re sincere too. “your brother? dean?” sam nods. “he didn’t believe me,” you state.

sam cringes a little. “he can be like that. he–” he purses his lips, looking for the right words, “he doesn’t trust very easily. he’s very suspicious of people he doesn’t know.”

“i don’t think he really thought i was a person,” you say, starkly honest in a way that surprises sam for a moment. you don’t quite understand what his surprise was for, but he quickly shoves it away before you can ask about it.

“he’s– he’s working on that. i’m sorry he made you feel that way,” sam says, truly feeling apologetic.

“well, i didn’t feel that way. just him. i know that i’m a person,” you smile, trying to reassure him and wishing he didn’t feel sorry.

sam smiles back a little. “right,” he nods, “well, i’m still sorry he thought that way about you. he’ll come around.”

“thank you, sam. but you don’t have to feel sorry, it’s not your fault he felt that way,” you assure, completely sincere and trying to work out why sam would feel sorry about something he didn’t cause, nor that he agrees with. he’s already proved himself to be kind and believing enough.

“sure,” he agrees, trying to figure out the right way to explain what he means as he begins to understand how truly sheltered from normal human interaction you’ve been. “but i know how it feels to have someone doubt how human you are and that it’s not a good feeling. so i’m just sorry and empathetic that you had to experience that.”

you nod in understanding. “ah, well, that’s kind of you… you’re right. it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to feel, but i understand that dean was feeling sort of afraid and definitely mistrustful. you didn’t really find me in the most trustworthy position. but if i meet him again, i hope you’re right that he’ll come around. i really am just a person, but i get that i’m, you know, not one hundred percent normal. really, empathy’s a very human thing, mine’s just… exaggerated, i guess.” you look at him, head cocked to the side in confusion. “but you, sam? why would someone doubt how human you are? you feel things just like a human.”

sam gives you a half smile. there’s a tinge of bitterness when he answers, but the way he talks and feels makes it seem as though time as softened most anger or sadness. yet, it also feels as though he’s never really talked about this much.

“i used to have psychic powers. i’d have visions, these premonitions before people died.” he explains it as something so casual, and he’s trying to feel that way about it, but he really seems to care. “in a way, i was barely different from you. of course, i’m still not. we’re both people.”

“really?” you ask, curious, “i didn’t know other people had that sort of thing. and your powers? they’re gone now?”

“it seems like it. i haven’t had a vision in a long time,” he answers.

“you seem relieved by that,” you note. sam picks up on the tinge of sad disappointment in your voice.

“i am,” he answers honestly, “but not because it’s bad to have those sort of powers. i just didn’t really enjoy getting visions of people dying violently.” he gives you a tight-lipped smile to show you he’s okay being lighthearted about it all.

you relax. “right, of course. that must have been hard,” you give him a small, kind smile, “i can feel that it was hard. i’m glad you don’t have to go through that anymore.” you’re all sincerity, and sam smiles right back.

“can i ask what it’s like for you? to have these powers?” he asks, careful and kind. he wonders if you get headaches or terribly tired of feeling other people’s emotions all the time, but he doesn’t want to make you talk about it if you’d rather not.

you’re slightly taken aback by the question, and not because you don’t want to talk about it. you just never really have at all before. you realize the simultaneous oddness and loveliness of this conversation. not once have you spoken about your powers with another human before, much less one who has some understanding about them.

“well… i guess i’ve never really thought about it much. just because i’ve never known anything else. i honestly don’t remember much from when i was young, but crowley’s been teaching me how to use them for as long as i remember. it’s both better and worse with practice, i guess. and the way i learned was kind of odd.” you pause, unsure if sam wants to really hear about it all. but he gives you an encouraging nod and you feel genuine interest coming from him, so you continue.

“i started learning with demons, but they feel a whole lot less than humans do. and i can’t feel or manipulate their emotions as easily or strongly since my powers are geared towards humans. but since that’s how i learned, it’s decently easy now, though it technically takes more effort than it does for humans. now i’m practicing on people, and it’s sort of too easy. it takes much more control because i’m used to exerting more power on demons. and humans feel things much more strongly, and are much more sensitive to change. i’ve gotten much better, but if i’m distracted or overwhelmed, my control slips. that’s what happened with mrs. hadley.” suddenly, you remember her. “is she okay?” i made things worse for her, didn’t i? you think.

“she’ll be alright,” sam says. “she was shaken up, but she was doing much better when i left. don’t worry too much about her.”

you almost want to ask again, if she’ll really be okay, but it seems that sam will most likely give you the same answer he just did. “okay,” you relent. then you realize you did more explaining about how your powers work than what it’s like for you. “to really answer your question; it’s my norm, and i’m not sure what it would be like without them. but sometimes i think it might be nice if i didn’t have them. i would’t have to help the demons, and it can be… overwhelming. i’m used to the demons; their emotions are easier to tune out. but with people? well, they just feel a lot. of course, i’m used to my own feelings, but to feel that, plus everything else around me, especially when someone could be feeling so much all at once is just… it can be a lot. i’m learning how to tune it out, but honestly, i’m still figuring it all out.”

sam thinks you look a little embarrassed when you finish, and he certainly doesn’t want you to feel that way. “that makes sense,” he reassures, “i barely had any control over my own powers. i can’t imagine how difficult it is to be in control of something so complicated and fickle as emotions. most people can barely deal with their own emotions. being able to feel everyone else’s too can’t be easy at all.

you nod in simple agreement. “it isn’t. but i’m also glad for it. sometimes, unc– crowley has me use it for his, you know, demon things, and i don’t like that. but i think my powers are part of the reason why i’m able to hate it. i’m so connected to humanity, the good and bad in everything that people feel, that no matter how i grew up, i’ll always have empathy in its rawest form. and though i don’t get too many chances, and i mess it up sometimes, i can help others when i’m away from the demons. last week, there was this girl in here,” you smile lightly at the memory as you begin to recount it to sam, “she was smiling and nice to everyone, but i could feel how just sad she was. i paid for her drink and told her she looked pretty, and the way that it made her feel… i didn’t even have to use my powers. she was just so grateful and happy that she teared up. and i barely did anything at all. that’s what keeps me going,” you say, completely honest, “knowing that i can help and that it’s my choice when i do it.” you feel like some huge weight has been lifted from your chest. you’ve never said this all aloud, and certainly not for someone else to hear. but something about sam and his sincerity and goodness makes you feel comfortable enough to say almost anything at all.

sam looks at you with a sort of admiration and total understanding, and that alone is almost enough to overwhelm you. it seems like, in all your experience in feeling, sam is showing you more, all by himself and without even trying. to be understood, so fully in so little time, is not something you’d ever felt for yourself before.

“i know what you mean,” he says, and you absolutely believe him. you want to know him, more than you’ve ever wanted to know anybody. you want to know all about what he feels and why and what he likes and how he knows what you mean without being able to read your feelings like you can his. and you know that he feels just about the same way you do. he wants to know you just as much as you want to know him.

and so you talk and talk and talk until you realize that the sun is dipping low in the sky because you begin telling him how much you love windows. then it’s a sort of frenzy; you’re worried you’ll be caught and try to leave right away, but sam catches your wrist, his calloused hand so gentle on your skin. he asks for your number, but you don’t have a phone, so you tell him to come back at the same time next week if he can. then you rush out and he watches you go.

the next week, sam appears in the cafe doorway at 1:24 pm, and he looks all soft when you smile at him wide. before you have to go again that day, he hands you a cheap phone with both his and dean’s contact already in place. he tells you it’ll make things easier because he might not be able to make it again next week. he doesn’t know when he’ll be on a hunt or not. then he tells you not to call dean unless it's a true emergency; dean still isn’t sure about you.

when you go, you forget to ask him how to use it. so, when he texts you on thursday to tell that he’s on a hunt, and might not make it to your meeting spot on sunday, you’re very unsure what you’re supposed to say. figuring out how to use the phone itself isn’t difficult, but you’re unaware that your simple response of “that’s okay.” is a bit bare-boned and dry in response to his kindly worded message. over time, you get used to how sam talks over text and learn how to emulate it.

and when sam calls you for the first time, you’re completely taken aback. you’d seen people talking over phone calls many times, but you’d never actually done it yourself. you accidentally hang up on him four rings in, but he calls you back a moment later. your surprise is delighted when you hear his voice through the speaker. then you discover it’s just like a demon call without all the blood involved. you also discover that, while you can pick up on emotions from his voice, you can’t really use your powers at all through the phone.

he regretfully interrupts your long spiel about the different pastries you’ve tried from honeybee cafe, telling you he has to go. you ask why, confused that you can’t just keep talking since you’re now able to through the phone. you love talking to him, and you think he enjoys it too. then he tells you that he was just calling to see if you could meet a different day this week, like he asked at the beginning of the call, and that dean expects him to be doing research for a case right now. you ask why he didn’t just text like normal, why he’d call if he didn’t want to keep talking.

“i do want to keep talking,” he reassures, “it’s just that i don’t have the time right now, but i thought calling might be a little easier than texting this time around. but i can call you again later tonight?”

“okay,” you respond, happy enough with that solution. after that, you call him any time you have something to say. he laughs to himself, completely endeared when you call him to tell him that you saw a very cute cat, then hang up seconds later before he can even respond.

eventually, you come to learn that he can’t actually pick up most of the time, but he tries to as much as possible, and that calling is nicer when you both have the time to actually sit down and talk. as you get to know sam, you learn many, many things along with all the questions he answers about himself. 

most amazingly, you learn what it feels like to fall in love with someone fast, and what its like for them to fall right in love with you too. whatever connection that you and sam felt the first few times meeting each other very easily and naturally turns into love. there’s this tug between the two of you, pulling you closer to each other every time you meet. his hand brushes over yours and you smile at him brightly, and you constantly think about each other when you’re apart.

sam tries to take things slow, feeling a little bit like he’s taking advantage of you and your sheltered past. but you know what you want, what you feel, and what he feels too. he wants you just as much as you want him, and you see no reason not to give each other just that.

and it’s so glorious, because you don’t have to read his emotions to know that he loves you back. he makes it so abundantly clear with the way that he acts around you, the way that he looks at you, and the way that he kisses you. you’ve learned that you’d do just about anything for him. you’ve learned how to feel this wild joy that you didn’t know how to feel before.

and it’s true that you’ve learned other, less pleasant things. you hate aiding demon deals even more than you thought. you’ve begun to think that, maybe, almost everything crowley’s raised you to view as the facts of the world, aren’t nearly as true as you thought. you’ve learned that maybe you don’t really owe him so much for raising you or teaching you to use your powers, and you’ve thought the scary thought that he might’ve done it all just to use you. you’ve learned that you should be able to do anything you’d like without having to fear the king of hell’s wrath. that you want to, probably should, get away from crowley, and that feeling like you don’t have a choice isn’t healthy or good for you at all. you’ve learned that you’re still too scared, but you’d rather be with sam, and that every day you spend with him, you become braver.

you’ve also found out that loving in secret can be hard, and that you want to see sam all the time, not just the times when both of you can sneak away. apparently, dean’s still having trouble “coming around” to the idea of you. he doesn’t know that sam’s yours and you’re his. he’s worried that you’re manipulating sam in caring about you, but sam’s reassured you that his love for you is the realest thing that he feels. you couldn’t be more grateful for the fact that he trusts you so much. 

he trusts you so much that every weekend possible, he meets you in the cafe or the nearest motel and you spend hours just talking or laying in comfortable silence together.

he always books the room with the best view from the window and opens the curtains before you get there so that the sunlight bathes the room in warmth and light. today, the late afternoon light is especially pretty, tinted orange and casting a bright hue over yours and sam’s skin as you lounge in the bed together.

his arm is wrapped around your shoulders, both of you propped against the wall with several pillows. you hold his other hand, playing with his fingers and relishing in the feeling of his pretty nose against your cheekbone. because he can’t resist you, he likes to keep his face as close to yours as possible so that it’s very easy to kiss you. his lips will brush against your cheek constantly, and other times he lifts his hand from your upper arm to gently nudge your face closer to his so that he can seal his lips over yours.

you’ve already talked about lots of things today; the best toppings on salad, sam’s most recent case, the symbolism of rhododendron flowers in the book you finished three days ago, and surely more. but the last hour has been quiet, filled with more rustling of blankets, soft sighs, and occasional whispers more than anything else. you’re content, and sam is too, for the most part. often, you try not to be reading sam’s emotions, but spending so much time with him and being so close to him has put you almost irrevocably in tune with his feelings, and you can feel that something’s nagging at him. it’s both good and making him nervous at the same time, but you don’t say a word. you wait for him, until he’s ready to say whatever it is.

it’s when he presses another kiss to your temple that he speaks, voice a more steady volume rather than a whisper this time. “honey?” he says like a question, signaling to you that he’s got something to say, maybe something important that he wants to ask.

“yes, love?” you respond, trying to sound receptive to whatever it is he wants to talk about.

“i, uh, i asked dean if he’d try and meet you, and i managed to convince him. he– he doesn’t know that we’re together, love, but i told him i ran into you again. i think… i think he probably suspects that there’s more to it than that, but he hasn’t said anything about it and i’m taking that as a good sign. would you be okay trying to meet up with him?” he asks, careful and tentative. you can tell that he’s scared to interrupt the balance of things, but that he really wants this. you know how much he hates hiding this all from dean.

“of course,” you assure him quickly. you want the same as him. you don’t want to have to stay furtive and distant from sam so much. but you also have a question. “are we… going to pretend? you know, not to be together?”

sam’s face falls a little at that thought, and at the hint of sadness in your voice when you ask. “i don’t want to,” he starts.

“but you’re nervous,” you gently interrupt.

“a little,” he admits, giving you a small smile, “but i was going to say that it’s up to you. dean could… i don’t know, freak out and i don’t want you to have to worry about that if you don’t want to.” you nod at his words, feeling a bit embarrassed at your interruption. while you try not to let your ability to discern his feelings dictate exactly how you interact with him, you’re still learning that sometimes what someone feels doesn’t always let you predict what they want to say. and of course, he’s sincere about his concern for you, as always.

“well,” you consider his words seriously, “maybe we don’t have to tell him out right, but if he asks? we don’t have to lie?”

“of course, honey,” he nods, “i’d never lie about being with you if he asked directly,” he promises, sealing it with a chaste kiss to your lips. if there’s one thing you know, it’s that sam is proud of loving you, and one of his least favorite things it’s having to hide it. he wants dean to know, he just doesn’t want him to say something scathing to you or try to keep him away from you.

“okay,” you smile. you understand his hatred for hiding it and his nervousness well. you’d be more nervous than he is now about crowley discovering what you’re doing and who you’re meeting with when you’re out on your own. “but you don’t have to worry, sammy. we’ll try to keep him from asking unless he’s reacting well. if he’s still too suspicious, i’ll know and make sure we won’t act in a way that will make him ask. we have time,” you assure.

now sam feels conflicted, because he’s both relieved by your reassurance and sorry you’d have to hide that he’s yours and you’re his. then he’s suddenly hit by this desire to hide anything at all. he doesn’t want to hide from dean or let the way that dean feels get in the way of him seeing and loving you whenever he wants. he wants to show dean just how good you are and how good you are for him.

“thank you,” he says sweetly, “but i don’t want to keep hiding it from him, not for any longer. you’re too important to me for that.”

you want to melt right into him. “you’re important to me too, sam. really, really important. we’ll do this on your time, yeah? whatever you want.”

“yeah,” he smiles, “and we’ll do other things on your time, and others on ours,” he says assuredly. 

you give him a nod as he reminds you that he’s by your side as you build up the courage to get away from crowley. sam has always been cautious about the topic, never saying too much until it was you who brought it up. the first time you told him you’d been thinking about escaping crowley, about realizing you don’t owe him your service or that he doesn’t treat you well, you had felt this surge of pride rush off of sam and onto you. outwardly, he was gentle and quietly encouraging, and he’s been just that since. he reminds you that you should do things at your own pace, but he’s there to do everything he can to help you. the more time you spend with him, the readier you are to stay with him, and just him. unlearning the things that you’ve had beaten into your head for as long as you can remember is nowhere near easy, but it’s undeniably better with sam by your side.

and less than a week later, you’re nervous and wishing for that exact comfort as you wait for him and dean to meet you in the cafe. you sip on your usual order, glad for its familiarity. after ten long minutes, your head shoots up at the sound of the door’s little bell ringing, signaling the arrival of sam and dean. dean walks in first, eyes scanning the small coffee shop until he sees you. you try not to look too nervous as you stand and send him an amicable smile.

you glance at san as he comes up from behind dean, giving you a reassuring smile. the sight of him relaxes you a bit, though you’re so in tune with his emotions by now that his own nervousness immediately washes over you. as dean approaches you try to get a read on his emotions as well. he’s less hostile than you expected, moreso careful, defensive, and begrudging. there’s also a hint of willingness along with it all, and you cling to that. there’s even some trust thrown into the mix, though you assume that it’s reserved only for sam.

“hi,” sam says kindly as he and dean take the seats across from you. you sit along with them.

“hi, sam,” you answer, reciprocating his friendly smile. “hi, dean,” you then say, turning your head to look him in the eye.

“hi,” he echoes, voice gruff. he settles his elbows onto the table top, trying to look casual and at ease, like he’s the one in control of the situation. “let’s, uh, skip the pleasantries. sammy here tells me that we should be protecting you from crowley. i don’t trust you and i’m not convinced you even need protection at all, given that you were helping him with his little demon deals. i’m also not convinced that you’re not using your freaky powers to make him trust you.”

“dean,” sam hisses. you feel a spike of anger from him when dean uses the word ‘freaky.’

“it’s okay,” you say, smiling a little at sam. you honestly appreciate dean’s frankness. “i understand that. i know we didn’t meet in ideal circumstances. i might not trust me either if i were you. and i’m honestly not sure exactly how i can convince you to, but i’d be grateful if you’d let me give it a shot.” dean looks completely skeptical. “without my powers, of course,” you rush to assure him.

“and i’ll know that how? you can literally change the way that i feel. it’s not really a good look for you,” he points out, earning a glare from sam that he completely ignores.

“you’re not entirely wrong,” you acknowledge, “but that’s a lot easier said than done. first of all, the effects of my powers are only temporary. i can only use my powers on you when i’m around you and focused enough. aside from that, you’d most likely be able to tell if i did use them.” dean raises his eyebrows in suspicion, so you go one to explain further. “you’re aware of what i can do, and you’re rightfully wary about it. that means you’ll most likely pick up on even minute changes in your emotions that i make. when you’re aware like that, you can overpower me. my abilities are strong, but frankly, authentic human emotions are stronger. long story short, i can’t do much at all to you. and while sam’s less wary than you to begin with, he’s still aware enough that the same applies to him. either of you would know and be able to overpower my hold on your emotions if i tried anything. the most i can do is get a read on what you’re actually feeling.”

dean still looks skeptical, but you sense a bit of his unease being to slowly slip away. “how do i know you’re telling the truth?” he demands.

without a word, you send just a small wave of trust and comfort through him. for a moment, he relaxes, but just as quickly, his scowl deepens and his own distrust replaces your influence. your affect on his emotions is easily pushed away.

“that’s what it would feel like if i were trying to get you to trust me with my powers. that was about as subtle as i can be with emotional manipulation, and you still noticed. all i can do is tell you that you’re still skeptical, but a little less than when you walked in here. and i can hope that means that you’d be willing to hear me out. i really, honestly could use the help.” you add as much sincerity to your voice as you can, relying on almost all logic to convince him.

dean scowls even more when you mention his feelings and read them accurately, but he does seem to realize that you read a whole lot more than what you actually said aloud. he also can’t say that he thinks you’re lying. it was easy for him to pick up on your influence. almost immediately. “fine,” he grumbles. “no promises, though.”

you nod, relaxing a bit despite his words being less than kind. “that’s fine,” you accept. “thank you.” you glance at sam, suddenly feeling unsure. he gives you a sweet nod and smile and you take a deep breath before forging on. “i don’t know how much sam told you about my… situation. but… for a long time i just didn’t really know i had any other option than to stay with and help crowley. and you don’t have to believe me, but, for the record, i really don’t enjoy helping him. but i think that he’d freak out if i left. and maybe send an army of demons after me, which i do realize would be highly inconvenient for you…,” you trail off, feeling more and more nervous. you take a deep breath to recollect yourself and give your full explanation as to why dean should be compelled to help you. 

“but crowley’s also bound to find out that i’m holding my powers back and purposely sabotaging his demon deals. and let’s just say that nobody wants that. he wants my powers and i don’t know what lengths he’ll go to to get them. so… if you help me, you’ll be keeping my powers out of the hands of the king of hell, which means slowing down his demon deals and making sure i’m not doing whatever evil demon-y things you think that i might.”

you can see dean contemplating, sense his feelings shifting. he intertwines his fingers and looks at sam with a raised eyebrow. sam nods, his expression completely serious. dean turns back to you.

“alright,” he says, “this is nowhere near the worst deal we’ve ever made. we’ll take you with us, keep crowley and his demons at a distance, and you can get out of our hair and onto your own life once things settle down. sound good?” he asks the question like he’s already made the final decision.

“thank you,” you sigh, shoulders sagging in relief. it’s not perfect since he still doesn’t know that you’re totally in love with sam and he’s totally in love with you, but it’s a better start than just about anything else. then it suddenly hits you that you’ll really be walking away from crowley, and that scares you. sam manages to catch your gaze. he looks at you with a hint of concern, but also relief as well. you can see him asking with his eyes, should we tell him? it’s you that gives him an encouraging nod this time. if you want, you’re saying.

he gives you a smile, and you know it means that he’s going to tell dean, right here, right now. you’re about to smile right back, but your gaze catches on movement behind him. your face drops, and you feel the blood drain from it. you don’t catch sam’s worried look that he gives you before he twists in his seat to see what you’re looking at. everyone reacts just a little too late, and crowley slides into the seat beside you.

“well, hello boys! darling,” he looks at you pointedly before turning back to the brothers. “not quite the trio i expected to find today! or ever, considering the fact that i expressly ordered you to stay away from the winchesters, isn’t that right, darling?” he doesn’t even look at you, but you cringe away from him slightly. a wave of protectiveness rolls off of sam as he clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to pull you right away from crowley.

you avoid crowley’s question entirely. “what are you doing here, crowley?”

“crowley? what happened to uncle? you’re breaking my heart, darling,” he drawls, faking a dramatic offense. “just because it’s one of your free days doesn’t mean i can’t visit you, does it? especially not when i get a report that the winchesters are headed inside your favorite cafe. as your caretaker, i was very alarmed. these two are quite dangerous, you should know.”

sam looks at you carefully, wanting to speak up for you, but not wanting to say what’s yours to say or decide what’s yours to decide.

“i’m leaving with them,” you say to crowley, blunt and too scared to force out any words that aren’t simple. “i don’t want to keep helping you collect souls.” pride and relief wash over sam. it feels good to sense.

but crowley’s anger is the opposite. he’s red-hot mad. “after everything i’ve done for you, you’re going to try and leave with the bloody winchesters?”

“i never asked you to do anything for me. it’s not like any of it was ‘for me’ anyway. it was all for your own gain. sam’s done more for me than you ever did.” you let that last sentence slip out without trying, but you find yourself too angry to be in complete control of the things you say. angry, and afraid.

both dean’s and crowley’s eyebrows shoot up. “sounds like you’ve been spending time with dear sam now, have you?”

you swallow, biting the inside of your cheek before speaking. “i– i have. and i’ve learned much more important things from him than i have ever did from you. so you can just give this up and make things easy. i’m not going back with you.”

“i raised you,” crowley growls. “do you know how much i hate children? but i still raised you, taught you to use your powers and made you stronger than you ever would’ve been without me. what the hell could this giant twat have done for you that’s better and more important than that? and don’t dare say something horrible like love. have you never considered the power that you’d have by my side? clearly you learned nothing of loyalty! you’re completely thankless and a complete dimwit if you thought i was going to just let you go. i’m taking you back, whether you like it or not, and you’ll stay in your room until i’m positive you won’t set foot near dearest dean or your stupid, freakishly tall boyfriend. is that understood?”

“no,” you choke out, reaching for sam’s hand across the table. crowley looks like he’s about to explode. dean quickly puts his hand out to interrupt.

“we’re getting stares,” he says, “we can take this outside.”

“no,” sam counters, standing and pulling you up with him, guiding you to stand by his side. “we’re gonna go. and you’re not following, crowley, unless you want my demon blade shoved up your ass.”

“do i look like i care about stares?” crowley seethes, standing and grabbing your other wrist. you yank at his hold to no avail, and sam moves to break his hold as on you he continues to speak. “i will toss both of you winchesters and everyone else in this godforsaken place across the room until you’re all knocked out cold, if that’s what it takes.”

“let me go,” you insist, voice almost a snarl, right as sam tells him to get his hands off of you.

crowley ignores you, even as you struggle against his iron grip. “you first, moose,” he says through gritted teeth.

the second that dean steps closer to the three of you to intervene, crowley flicks his free hand and sends dean crashing into the farthest wall. a few disjointed screams ring through the cafe and spikes of fear wash over you from all the innocent civilians. sam’s anger grows by tenfold and all of it has you squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. you know that crowley wasn’t bluffing when he threatened everyone in the cafe, so you untangle your hand from sam’s and stretch your arm out in front of him before he can lunge at crowley.

“it’s okay, sam,” you say, voice surprisingly calm. you stop struggling and sam looks at you with such desperation and pleading that you almost want to let him fight. but you don’t want him or anyone else hurt. “i’ll be okay. and i’ll be back.”

“no, don’t do this,” sam starts. crowley doesn’t wait for you to answer as he begins dragging you away. you stumble more than once, looking over your shoulder to see sam start after you. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t, sam,” you beg. “it’s okay, i promise.” your voice raises to a shout to make sure he can hear you as crowley pulls you through the door and away from sam.

⟢⟢⟢

you know without a doubt that sam’s looking for you. that he’s pouring every minute into finding you, that he’s probably skipping meals and losing sleep because of it. but you also know that you won’t be easy to find. either way, you’re getting out. out of this godforsaken room with no windows and drab walls and out of this life, away from this fear. and you’re going to do it yourself.

it’s not easy, per se, but it’s not difficult either. just tedious and time consuming. it’s fortunate for you that crowley’s narcissism can blind him to certain things, like the fact that you’re much more adept at using your powers than he thinks you are, or that the demon guarding your door, hazel, hates him for giving her such a boring job. he doesn’t even think that you’re capable of manipulating his emotions, given his extra power as king of hell, and that’s exactly why it works when you do.

your escape plan is simple, though not foolproof. but it seems to be working so far. each time that crowley checks on you, you boost all of the hatred and annoyance in both your guard and him. this makes crowley snap at your guard constantly, berating her and blaming her for things she didn’t do. in turn, this makes her hate crowley even more, to the point that her rage no longer needs to be manufactured. hazel hates him more than enough on her own.

even more subtly, you’ve done your best to appeal to her, mostly by complaining about crowley through your shut door and lessening her annoyance as you speak. at first, she’d tell you to shut up, but now, she listens if you don’t talk for too long, sometimes even complaining back. 

but today, when she began complaining about crowley to you, unprompted, you decided you’d throw all of your effort into escaping. she’s particularly spiteful, all on her own, and all day, you boost that feeling, complaining along with her and building up the sense of comradery she’s starting to feel with you.

crowley stops by, and you can feel her anger acutely. you do as you’ve done every day, making him annoyed so he says something scathing. with the strength of her hatred, you’re impressed that she doesn’t say something back, something that would likely get her killed by his hands.

instead, she waits until he’s gone, and begins to mutter to herself how she’d love to cut that haughty smirk from his face. you lean against the door, making noise so she knows you’re there.

after a few moments, you speak. “you could just leave,” you suggest casually. she scoffs, trying to sound annoyed at you. truly, you can tell just how much she’d like to do exactly that.

“and risk getting hunted down by his minions? not a chance,” she growls.

“i hate him just as much as you do,” you remind her strategically. “if he’s not in charge, you wouldn’t have to worry about his minions, right? whether it’s now or later, i’m getting out and i’m making him pay. he doesn’t know that i have the power to turn every single one of  his demons against him. he thinks i’m weak, but i can topple his kingdom, and i will.” you infuse your words with venom and conviction, just how any demon would like. then you fill her with conviction too, making her believe your words easily. “all i need is to get out of this goddamn room.” to you, her silence is loud, but her feelings are louder. hazel grapples with her hatred and her fear and her utter spite. 

“i know you have the key,” you remind her. crowley would never bother to be the one to unlock it each time you need food. “we can both disappear, right now. crowley will get what he has coming for him, i’ll make sure of that.” you send her a wave of boldness and reassurance, confidence that this would be a good decision. it’s easy to feel when you tip her over the edge. a split second later, you hear the door unlock and come face to face with her determined expression.

“this isn’t a favor to you. it’s for me,” she says, voice low and harsh. “i’ll be waiting to see what you do to him.”

easily, you act just how you know she’d want, eyes and voice ruthless like how you learned to be growing up trying to convince crowley you were like him. “trust me. i’ll rip his kingdom apart brick by brick,” you snarl. she nods, and you brush past her, feet light and quiet as you make it out of the building without incident.

once outside, you break into a run, unable to stay calm enough to walk. clutching the small bag of belongings you took, you make for the road. it’s a bit of a ways away, but you reach the highway, panting and desperately looking out for a car that’ll pick you up and take you to the next town over. all you need is to get on the train and head for kansas. you have the way to sam’s bunker memorized.

too afraid not to keep moving, you walk along the side of the road, listening intently for any car or truck. the area is quiet, frustratingly slow, and the few cars that pass you by choose to ignore the thumb that you stick up in the air.

it’s practically torture, walking and walking and waiting. waiting for something to go wrong, for crowley and his demons to find you within mere hours of your escape. your anxiety builds as your hunger and thirst do, and you want to sit down in the grass when you pass an exit sign signaling another five miles to the town with the train station.

but you don’t think you can stop, even with your parched throat, heavy feet, and anxious heart. it’s a strange feeling; elation mixed with nerves so strong you think you could throw up.

you perk up at the sound of a rumbling car engine, but deflate in disappointment before it even comes into sight from around the corner. it’s headed in the wrong direction, straight back towards the place you want to get away from. for a moment, you wonder if you should try and hitch a ride anyway, in case they can drop you off in a different town with a train station. then the car comes into sight, its sleek black body reflecting back the mild sun of the afternoon. you gasp, an impossible hope entering your body.

it had taken you a moment to recognize it; sam’s never driven the impala to see you before, but he’s shown you pictures of his brother’s beloved car. praying it could really be him, you wave your arms in the air, heart beating wildly.

the car slows and breaks a little ways away from you, and before it even comes to a full stop, the passenger side door swings open, and sam comes running out. he looks nowhere but you as he runs across the wide road.

“sam,” you gasp, voice barely loud enough for him to hear. you match his pace, running to meet him. he practically crashes into you, enveloping you in his arms and sighing out your name. you hug him back just as tightly, pressing your face into his neck.

“i’m so sorry,” he breathes out, “crowley was hard to find and–”

“shut up, sam,” you grinned against his skin, the affection clear in your voice. “don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. it was my choice and i knew i’d be able to find a way out. and i knew even better that you’d look for me.”

he barely parts from you, just so he can gently place his hands on the sides of your face and really look at you. “you’re amazing. i–” he stops himself from saying sorry again. “i know that wasn’t easy for you, none of it. but you did it. you did it, all by yourself. i’m so proud of you.” 

your heart lurches at his words. they feel too good to hear, too sweet, too full of relief. tears spring into your eyes as you really realize just how difficult it all was, as you’re hit with exhaustion from the walk and the fear and the uncertainty of it all.

“thank you, sam,” you whisper. it’s true that you did it all for yourself, but it may never have happened without him. “you helped me. so much, sam. and i missed you a lot, and– and–” you decide that if you keep talking, you’ll cry. so instead of that, instead of trying to come up with something to bring justice to the way that you feel, you kiss him. you remember that sam knows how you feel because that’s how he feels too. and though you can’t quite show him that in the way you experience his own feelings, you can show him by kissing him, and kissing him hard.

he melts into you, his hands impossibly soft, yet steady and so sure on your face. he kisses you back with the same ferver, right there on the side of an empty highway with his brother likely watching. he doesn’t care, not about any of it.

when you finally part, breathless, dean clears his throat loudly, and you grin at sam a little bashfully. he grins back. you peek around his shoulder to see dean leaning against the car’s hood, trying and failing to hide his smile.

“while i hate to break up the lovefest, i’m not sure how long we’ve got until crowley sends that army of demons you mentioned. let’s hit the road, kids,” he calls out to the two of you. 

in the car, it seems clear that dean’s attitude towards you has improved significantly since your last meeting. maybe it was seeing the way crowley treated you, watching you give yourself up in defense of sam and the others in the cafe, or seeing sam this past week and a half and coming to understand how much he really cares about you. whatever it is, you completely welcome the hesitant sort of affection that begins to permeate dean’s wariness of you.

then, there’s sam, sitting all content in the passenger's side and unable to stay still. he keeps turning to look at you, as if he has to be sure that you’re really there, sitting pretty in the backseat of the impala like he’s imagined a million times before. the only thing keeping him from sitting next to you is the fact that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands and lips off of you, and that would be a bit too much with dean in the car. so instead, he smiles at you all soft and listens intently when you explain how you got out. he tries not to talk too much to avoid bothering dean, but you can tell that dean doesn’t mind one bit hearing the happy tone in sam’s voice as he talks to you.

and for you, to be flying down the highway and looking at your sam, your revelry, your wild joy, you finally understand what freedom really feels like. what it feels like when it’s yours.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Hun something else I want to ask is if you would do a hybrid dragon Yan..? Forgot to mention it in the last ask because I forget ideas a lot <3

-from the one anon who said to use 3 names you like :)!

P.s I’ll probably refer to myself as this forever now hun

I'm sorry this took so long!! Here it is:

CW: mild violence, video game logic

Yandere!Dragon x GN!Reader

The winds in the mountains were cold enough to slice open skin and leave blisters.

Traveling up towards the sky was (Reader), a warrior known throughout the lands for their incredible feats, climbing up the snowy pass towards the dark splotch on their map.

The dragon's lair.

Only human in appearance, (Reader) had slaughtered almost every type of monster and fiend in the continent, sending fear through all living beings. They were rumored to be immortal, since they seemed to be capable of recovering from any wound they received, no matter how critical. Whatever life threatening hit they took, and no matter how certain their death seemed to be, (Reader) would only black out, waking a few hours later. A warrior without a past, without a home, who only lived to kill.

Slaying a dragon would be the last creature on the killer's list, having already defeated deities and apocalypse level threats. It wasn't that a dragon would be harder than killing a god; they just hadn't gotten around to it.

In the grand scheme of life, dragon slaying would be a side quest.

(Reader) doubted that the battle would be difficult in any sort of sense; aside from their incredible physical attributes they also had legendary gear such as "the Ring of Absolution" which was forged from the tears of a Golden Warrior. That ring alone made it impossible for enemies to block their attacks or use "break out" to parry.

Upon finding the cave and entering recklessly, (Reader) wished that someone had told them sooner:

That "when you're at the top, the only place to go is down.."

A blast of fire knocked their helmet off their head as the heat pushed them back. Shocked (and a little excited) the warrior raised their vampiric sword. Inside the cave, a giant red and golden dragon sat posed, muscles tense and eyeing the invader with intrigue.

"Who are you, to enter my home?" His deep voice sounded more confused than offended. And when (Reader) pointed their weapon at him in response, he chuckled. "Adorable little human, if you wish to live a long life, leave this cave now, and I shall spare you."

(Reader) shouted, igniting a glowing light around their body, then lunged, slashing at the beast.

To the dragon's surprise it hurt.

"Foul little thing!" He snarled, attempting to blast the human with another bolt of flames (this time not as a warning) but the fighter rolled out of the way, effectively dodging the attack. (Reader) thrust again, angering the dragon when he found that he could not block the sword, the blade passing his harder scales and hitting his soft flesh despite his guarding.

Amidst the rage and frustration a new emotion began forming within the centuries young being; respect.

There were no dragons he wished to associate with, there were no creatures that approached him of their own free will. He was alone. For a very, very long time. For he was not just a dragon..

He was Targov the Malicious.

A dragon of legend, ender of nations, killer of kings..

And his health was slowly being chipped away by the steel of a mortal.

(Reader) did not know who the dragon was, only that this was the closest location for a dragon nest.

"Small human.. I have a proposition for you."

The warrior paused, tilting their head as they waited for the dragon to continue.

"You have impressed me, and you have earned my admiration. So I offer you a chance at life eternal: become my mate, and ascend to a higher state of being.

You shall never want nor need for anything. I will be your willing servant for all of eternity."

It wasn't the first proposal (Reader) had received, yet it was certainly the first from a beast. They stepped back a fraction as though his words caused them to stumble. His request sounded so genuine that it almost killed their blood lust.

Almost.

Disappointment and betrayal filled the dragon's eyes as (Reader) suddenly threw their sword like a spear, lodging it into Targov's chest, a feather's distance shy of his heart. But even that only further fueled the growing need he had for the mortal. And the obvious solution to the warrior's resistance was to make the choice easier for them.

Targov flew forward, but instead of attacking like (Reader) had predicted, he grappled the human in his talons and continued faster, propelling them both out of the cave and into the sky as he built speed.

The wind jostled the surprised human about like a rag doll as they rose higher into the atmosphere. Their ears popped painfully, but they could still hear the roaring laughter of the dragon.

"HA! Now what do you say, human?! Shall you be mine? Or shall I drop you?!" He held the adventurer loosely by the fabric visible under their armor in an attempt to frighten them. But what he saw next made his heart falter.

His eyes widened as (Reader) smiled triumphantly, raising a dagger while maintaining eye contact, and sliced off the part of their outfit Targov held onto, willingly allowing themselves to fall.

It was just a fall.

Yeah, it would hurt. It would hurt like a son of a bitch, but (Reader) knew they wouldn't die. They never did.

However, their near immortality was something that Targov didn't know about.

Before his emotions could fully form into separate feelings, Targov dove, recatching the little human, now with a more secure grip, and flew back to his home, his heart beating a billion beats per second once it restarted.

(Reader) was thrown to the floor by the dragon seconds before being blinded by a bright flash. The dragon was consumed in a bright white glow that illuminated the cave, morphing into a more human appearance, with deep golden skin and red hair. His horns and claws still remained, but as (Reader) could see clearly from his lack of clothes, was now mostly human. He charged towards (Reader), face twisted in his confusing mix of emotions. Anger, shock, hurt, feelings his adrenaline wouldn't give him time to categorize as he closed in on the confused human.

He hoisted (Reader) up by their neck.

"You'd really rather die than be mine?!" The enraged dragon screamed.

Struggling to breathe, the warrior grabbed one of his scaly hands while trying to smack his face with their dominant hand.

The glint of their ring caught Targov's attention, who recognized it instantly. He had been alive for a very long time, and killed many a god during his rebellious years. Sharp teeth sunk into (Reader's) fingers, the dragon biting their hand lightly, suddenly, earning a shocked cry from the struggling human. Targov dropped (Reader), pulling the ring off their finger with his fangs as he did so.

The warrior didn't notice their missing ring until they regained their composure and attempted to attack the humanoid dragon, who blocked their attack perfectly fine.

Targov wore the ring on his smallest claw.

"I see I was right about you.." His deep voice chuckled, but (Reader) couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or fury. "A fellow God killer.. who better suited to be my mate?"

He grabbed (Reader's) wrist, and despite it's low speed, the ring prevented (Reader) from dodging.

"Welcome home, my mate."

"Even if I have to break you, I will have you. And you will learn to love me."

[banj0possum]

◡̈⋆🄷🄴🅈(●’◡’●)ﾉ

I got idea from. The Yandere!Zombie Horde x Male Reader and what if the zombies trying to get the reader attention or getting jealous of each other for getting the attention 👍. Or the reader finds someone who survive and try to protect reader when they see the zombies and drag the reader around away from the zombies.

So I got others I like too talked about but idk if you like to hear it out. ヽ(^o^)丿

I've gotten another ask with our little zombos dealing with a survivor who is using darling for their resources so I'll add that in as well >:3 this was a bit rushed because of school but i hope its still good, expect another jock x reader coming soon! its gonna be a spicy one~

Jealous Zombie Horde x Gn Reader Who Meets Another Survivor

CW: a bit of gore, mention of smut at the very end

💀 The sound of clatter and screams echoed through the empty mall as you jolt awake, quickly putting on a jacket, shoes and a weapon. Bo, who was in charge of watching you woke up too after he couldn't feel your warmth next to him.

💀 You usher Bo to follow you as you both listen carefully for where the screams were coming from. Bo, stayed in front of you protectively as you both came closer and closer to the source of the commotion.

💀 It didn't sound like a zombie's scream, no, it was human, swears and threats being thrown at whatever was provoking them.

💀 You turned the corner with Bo and see another survivor, nearly your age, trying to fight off the other 3 with a chair. They had a strange jumpsuit on with an insignia you've seen before spraypainted on buildings and gates.

💀 You whistle to get the horde's attention and they turn around to look at you, all of them cooing and running over to you and Bo, the zombie scolding them for scaring a human like that. Ribs was nuzzling close to you as he missed your scent.

💀 "G-GET AWAY FROM THEM YOU MONSTERS!"

💀 The survivor starts charging to them, about to attack when you go in front of them and explaining that they're harmless. They slowly lowered their guard, albeit to a certain degree, and put down the chair.

💀 Bo scowled at them, crossing his arms while Soda hid behind him. Ribs made a gagging gesture with his finger, making fun of their Darling's new acquaintance.

💀 Screw went towards them, sniffing their clothes and trying to reach out to them but the survivor yelps and swats him away.

💀 Before Bo can start ripping them to shreds for trying to hurt Screw, you distract the both of them by taking your new friend to your bunker.

💀 You two became friends fast, they explained that they came from a community of survivors but got kicked out when they got caught stealing supplies.

💀 You could brush past the stealing as you were too thrilled with having someone to actually talk to.

💀 At one point, Soda came in and sat beside you, asking for pets as usual, cuddling next to you much to your friend's dismay and disgust.

💀 Soda stuck out his tongue and continued showing you love and you decided it was time for bed.

💀 You set up a separate part of the room for them as you crawled into your mess of cushions and pillows with Soda.

💀 "Uhm, does he have to be here?" They ask, making you think about letting Soda out for that night. "He's fine, he won't hurt you, right Soda?" But the one-eyed creature only glared at them and let out a low gurgle, turning their back to them and pulling you close.

💀 You can hear them almost sneer at you as you fall asleep in Soda's arms.

💀 The next few days were very much a rollercoaster of events with the horde fighting for your attention.

💀 You tried showing your friend around the mall, but they kept trying to distract you, Screw showing off new trinkets, Bo asking for help with getting Ribs out of the vents again, Soda asking you for reading lessons, anything they can think of they tried which was met with a gentle 'wait' and a smirk from that annoying new human.

💀 Bo hated your new friend, he was never around when you two were with each other, always stalking and glaring at you two laughing and talking from the dark corners of the mall when he can see you.

💀 Screw wanted so bad to be friends with them, but they were always disgusted and afraid, he won't bite! He promises!

💀 Soda always had a queasy feeling when around the other human, it was like the drinks he would find around the mall but in a bad way, like an ugly bubbling feeling in his throat whenever you'd smile at them, you should be smiling at him!

💀 Ribs straight up hates them, many times he would mess with them by snarling and limping like a normal zombie to get a scream or two out. He would stick his tongue out, flip them off- yes, he knows how to do that it was Bo- Sometimes he would leave small dead animals in their shoes or bed because he's petty like that.

💀 They never felt jealousy until now, they never felt it with each other as they were like brothers, nothing could make them hate one another, but an annoying little human with the audacity to take their mate away from them? That will get them really angry.

💀 You've noticed them getting more hostile lately, never towards you but to your friend, they would feign fear and ask to leave whenever they were near which made you think a bunch about what has happened to them.

💀 You managed to find Bo, Screw and Soda and asked them what was wrong.

💀 Bo gurgled and pointed at your friend's bed, Screw nodding as he did with Soda looking away.

💀 That's when you realized they were jealous and embraced them, cooing and whispering to them that you would never leave them, you're their mate, why would you? You talked them into being nicer to your friend, as much as they hated it.

💀 Meanwhile Ribs was in the vents once again when he heard clatter in the room below him.

💀 He takes out his eye and squeezes it through the grates of the vent.

💀 He looks around to see your 'oh so best friend in the whole world' stuffing your provisions and supplies in a duffle bag that he recognizes is from your closet.

💀 He chitters and giggles at when he's seeing and pulls his eye back, popping it back in before banging on the walls of the vent, breaking the opening and dropping down behind the human.

💀 They scream and draw out a puny knife as the zombie stands back up, his bones cracking and flesh squelching.

💀 They yell at him, running up to him and stabbing their knife all over his torso.

💀 Their threats and profanities soon died down as they looked up at Rib. He wipes his nose and pulls up his hole-covered shirt and shows them his very lacking body, at least they now know why they call him 'Ribs'

💀 As you're heading to the arcade with the horde, you hear your friend yelling from the other side of the corridor. "Let me go you disgusting thing get your hands off me!" You find them kicking and screaming as they're carried over Ribs' shoulder, on his other hand was your duffle bag filled with...food?

💀 He throws them in front of you along with your bag as they cling to you with very fake cries and whimpers. "Please, he's insane! Get him away from me!"

💀 You just stood there, processing what just happened as your friend's cries for help turn to yells, demanding that you help them.

💀 Bo snarls as he hears them throw insults at you. Screw and Soda run up to Ribs, who had the smuggest expression you've ever seen on a zombie and asked him what just happened.

💀 Soda tells you everything that Rib's saw and you glare at the survivor. You scoff as you take your duffle bag and throw them a can.

💀 "You get another chance, now get out of here." You say as you turn away, walking back to your storage room, giving Ribs pets as he coos happily, the others follow after not before snarling at the human.

💀 They look at the can then back at you and let out a yell, taking out their knife and charging at you in a blind rage. "You bitch!" they shout before you dodge their attack and throw them onto the ground, kicking away their weapon as they dropped it.

💀 Now you made the horde real mad, their usual glares turn into murderous looks, Soda and Screw standing in front of you as Ribs and Bo slowly go closer to them.

💀 "Hey boys? I bet you haven't had any human to eat in a while, just make sure to clean up before coming to bed alright?" You turn away from them with your bag as they charge at the survivor, you ignore the screams of terror and ripping flesh as you go to put your food back in their shelves.

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝ just a human ❞

⟶ neteyam x fem!human!reader

⟶ he should've never fallen for a human

⟶ cw. rough drabble ⭒ headcanons ⭒ jealousy ⭒ angsty ⭒ aged up ⭒ BREAKUP ⭒ interspecies relationship ⭒ alien x human ⭒ established situation-ship

⟶ note. i've never tried to write something like this before, but i was feelin angsty. lmk what you think, i dont really know what style this is but i guess its a drabble/hc kinda thing?? it's fun! not edited or anything really

⭒ it wasn't obvious when things started to change, but slowly it became more and more noticeable the way you were being treated.

⭒ he'd leave early in the day before you'd even wake up, when he'd come back he'd say that he was in a rush and didn't think.

"i didn't mean to okay?" he said, bluntly. he moves past you rather quickly. "you wouldn't have been up yet, anyway."

your eyebrows are stitched together, feeling that odd feeling inside your chest as if something was wrong. it felt like a bad time to press matters, even if it hurts to keep those feelings in.

"you could've still asked, i would've gone with you."

neteyam sighs, putting away his bow. his eyes can't meet yours, darting anywhere but at them. "yea, i know."

⭒ you can't pinpoint the reason for his coldness. inside the lab, everyone could feel it. you weren't good at hiding your feelings but neither was he.

⭒ kiri likes to visit her mom, bring lo'ak and neteyam who's body stiffens the seconds he sees you. it wasn't just him though, they all seemed to be acting differently. only kiri remained truly nice to you.

"hey!" kiri waves her hand at you as if there wasn't a huge chill in the room from the tension.

you smiled at her from your desk, continuing with your daily reports without uttering a word.

⭒ neteyam can't keep his feelings off his face, it was obvious. his coldness was within reason, it was out of his control even if he hates it.

⭒ it hurts him to see you that way. alone most of the day, no one really your age since you were closer in range with them. most were far beyond adulthood and nothing much to really talk to about.

⭒ you were the closest to kiri, and well kiri couldn't help it but talk to you. he notices the way you've been avoiding her now, because of him.

⭒ it wasn't until the day that neteyam noticed you weren't in the lab, that his heart leaps and feels that surging feeling of impending doom.

"she went out in the morning," one of the lab guys said. neteyam rushes to your desk, the same one you've always sat at and looks through piles of sticky notes and journals. his large hands practically destroying everything in it's path.

a gasp from behind him was heard, "what are you doing neteyam, she's going to be so pissed you decided to ruin her stuff."

kiri didn't seem to feel that awful gut feeling he felt. he turns to her with a frantic look on his face, finally looking over at the monitor to find a sticky note with your small handwriting, 'out for the day, i think it's hunting season but don't worry, i'll be back later.'

"she's not stupid," kiri said, following her brother as he gathers his weapons and ionar. he was on a mission, his lips are in the tight line.

neteyam shakes his head, going towards the edge of the cliffs where his ikran rests, "i know, but right now she's really stupid–she knows it's hunting season why would she go?"

"i'm sure she's fine."

⭒ you were indeed fine. but neteyam was not.

⭒ neteyam rushes off his ikran with a mission. angry rushes through his bones as he pushes himself through the vegetation to spot you with a boy, a na'vi boy.

"what are you doing?"

you seemed unphased by him. not even bothering to reply. this seemed to make his blood boil by the second. the na'vi boy looks awkwardly been the two of you.

"and what are you doing here?"

the na'vi boy stutters, unable to say a word to the first born son of the clan leader.

your voice was flat, lacking emotion, "he gave me a ride." you get up off the ground, hands filled with bags of random plants and rocks.

⭒ he's never been so annoyed. he didn't think he'd get jealous easily, he thought things like this wouldn't bother him.

⭒ lo'ak always bothered him, pointing out his mood which doesn't make it any better.

"just talk to her man, she'll hate you forever if you don't."

⭒ he did. he talked to you, he stood there. the boy you liked, stands there telling you how he couldn't be with you. he was scared, of his feelings and what others would think.

you scoff, angrily you shoved him. pointing at him, "you of all people, i didn't think would care so much of what people think."

"i don't, i–look, my mother doesn't like humans, she hates spider–he's like my brother and she never sees him," he explains. feeling the moisture in his eyes gather, he wipes them off quickly. his eyes trail the ground at your feet.

you look away, "so it's your mom?"

"it's everyone," he kicks the ground, "i should've never fallen for a human."

"is that what you see us as?"

his eyebrows are stitched together, unable to form words as his mind is frazzled.

"aliens, i am just a human to you–not anything more." it hurts, it really does.

⭒ it was then that you listed the possibilities of what was wrong with you. what didn't you have that he wanted. you didn't want to believe that he would let that affect him, what others think or see.

⭒ he's lying to himself, he kicks himself after being reminded of how much of a skxawng he was.

⭒ tuk found out what he did, she was really angry. she really liked you, you always took her places with you. everytime she'd see neteyam she'd hiss at him.

"hah, she hates you," kiri sings. she's also not his biggest fan after finding out from the source how much of his asshole her brother was.

⭒ it was then, they needed to leave. to save the tribe–to save everyone. neteyam and his family had to leave.

⭒ the weather was awful that day, as if even eywa knew. he's completely covered in rainwater, head to toe trying to find you.

⭒ you're saying bye to kiri and tuk.

"you're not coming?" it was the first words he'd spoken to you since, almost a month ago. it wasn't like he didn't try, his mouth always tried to say something but the moment you'd spot him–felt his energy, you were gone, avoiding him like the plague.

kiri took tuk away, knowing that this was about to get dirty. you shrugged, watching the way the water fell from his pretty face after not really getting a look at him all this time, "what do you mean?"

"since you're saying bye, i assume you know–but you're not going with us? but you're my fa–"

an ironic laugh leaves your lips, interrupting him, "i'm just a human, neteyam, i know my place."

⭒ neteyam never had felt heartbreak before, not before today. irony, your heart broke a month ago. he'd not only lost his home, but he lost...his true home.

end note. if you made it this far I HAVE A TAGLIST, if you wanna be tagged that is &lt;;3

© moongumi 2023. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

[risuola]

REAL LIFE SURPRISE — GN. READER x GOJO SATORU

Life has been heavy on your shoulders lately, so instead of going out with your friends on a halloween night, you decided to stay in bed, catch up on the last episodes of JJK and just rest. With that in mind, you fall asleep while watching the second season, but what you couldn't prepare yourself for is the voice that wakes you up.

cw: none really, except for anime spoilers, season 2, but everything written happened already in the anime — 1,4k words

a/n: it's just my brain babbling, don't mind me. I had this idea for a long time now, it's written quickly so errors might occur!

It was halloween night, you're alone in your house. Life has been heavy on you lately, so you decided to stay at home, binge watch anime - you had few eps of your favorite anime to catch up on. You've been so busy for the past few weeks that you weren't even thinking about watching JJK, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity.

And you did just that; snuggled with blankets, you put the second season on. First part somewhat eased your mind. Gojo's memories really filled you with melancholy, it cleared many things from what you watched in the first season. Then the Shibuya arc started. It was exciting, even though you kinda knew what will happen, you read the manga, but the animation just hits different.

Your eyelids began growing heavy, the pillow below your cheek seemed to suck your consciousness away and finally, you just passed out. The sounds of episodes playing in the background did nothing to wake you up, even the light from the screen wasn't bothering you as you dozed off into the dream lands. And you'd probably be sleeping until morning. You'd wake up not knowing where you really stopped watching, but that's okay - you can always start over, you loved the anime after all. But you didn't sleep that long.

You woke up nervously, the sound of a long hum made your eyes flutter open in an instant. You noticed the screen in front of you, it wasn't playing anymore, the video stopped and you recognized the scene from the manga - Gojo just got sealed into the prison realm, but when you looked closer, you could tell the screen was glitching. It never did this before.

"You're awake," the voice reminded you of itself and you almost shit your pants. Someone was in your room, someone was inside your house. And the tone... it seemed oddly familiar, you felt like you know it from somewhere, but there's not a single person you could really tie it to. But you knew the voice, you knew it for sure.

Without thinking much, you grabbed the first thing near you. Armed with the soft-cover notebook you jolted up, ready to aim the deadly weapon at the intruder, but your heart stopped at the sight.

A man was there, sprawled on the chair next to your desk. His long legs clad in black pants were spread widely as he was sitting comfortably, leaning against the backrest as if he wasn't inside your house. But it wasn't his large form that shocked you the most. It was his features. A human, but ethereal in every way. In the faint light of the led strips on your wall, you could tell his hair was light, maybe even white, just as the thick row of lashes that framed his eyes. His face was gorgeous, too perfect to be real but he was real, he was there.

"Let me turn the light on," he chuckled, noticing how much you struggled to see him in the pathetic imitation of lights. He got up, nearly hitting his head on the cheap chandelier in the middle of your ceiling and once his long fingers flicked the lights on, you nearly passed out. He really had white hair and it was easy to tell that it was white by nature. There was not a single discoloration near his roots nor a sign of it being dyed. It wasn't a wig either. And his eyes... bright blue, almost glowing with their crystalline beauty.

"What the hell is going on?", you asked, still gripping the notebook for dear life as if it was going to harm anyone. You probably couldn't kill a fly with it, not to say this tower of a man.

"Hmmm, I'm probably just as confused as you are," he replied, this time dropping his weight onto the edge of your bed. "I got sealed, my bad. I suppose the prison realm sent me into some kind of different dimention."

You blinked at him, taking in the information but your brain refused to register it properly. What the hell does he mean he got sealed?

"It's quite odd actually," he continued, "I can't really feel any cursed energy in here, or maybe my six eyes are not working all that well in this world. I hoped you'll tell me what kind of dimension it is. Ah, sorry, how rude of me. Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you."

"The fuck you mean Gojo Satoru?!", you nearly screamed, throwing the notebook at him, doing about as much damage as you suspected. None. He just dodged it. "It's not a dimension, it's the real world. You do not exist, you're a character from anime, for god's sake..."

"That's harsh, sweetheart," he chuckled.

Maybe it was a prank? Maybe your friends wanted to scare the shit out of you, maybe it was a cosplayer? Very good one, but it would make more sense than him being here. How the fuck he even got here? You're sure you locked all doors and windows were closed as well. And why was your computer stuck on the frame in the video?

"It's not funny," you whined, getting up from the bed and leaving the room to check on the doors. It really frightened you to see that everything was exactly how you left it. It was closed in the same, very odd way you always do it, with the upper lock twisted two times, the lower one twisted just once and the key still hanging from the keyhole. The windows were just as you left them as well, all closed except one in the kitchen - the one that's too small for anyone to squeeze in and it had an anti-mosquitoes mesh outside. You were also on the 7th floor. What was going on?! "It's really not funny..."

"You seem really nervous for someone who just woken up, you know?", the man followed you and when you looked at him, he was standing next to the entrance to your room, leaning against the doorframe. "I must admit, I can't really recognize myself in the mirror, I remember my face slightly different."

"Yeah, like this?", you grabbed your phone and showed him your homescreen. Embarassment of having his picture both there and on the lockscreen you pushed away, it wasn't important right now. His gorgeously blue eyes scanned the wallpaper, the orbs glistened in the harsh light of your screen and you listened to the soft hum he made. You suddenly realized why his voice sounded familiar. It was Gojo's voice. Or rather his voice actor's...

"Oh yes, that's more like it," the man gave it a nod and then turned to look at himself in the small mirror on your wall. "Still handsome though. What you think?"

"You are gorgeous, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT," you almost screamed. What do even do in this situation?

"Well, I suppose I'll stay in this world for as long as my students get me out of the prison realm," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging with nonchalance, completely unbothered by the way he isn't supposed to exist in this world. "What about the cursed energy? Are you heavenly restricted or-"

"There's no such thing as cursed energy in real world. No six eyes, no limitless, no cursed spirits, domain expansions, no nothing. In this world we are just flesh and bones. Strength is measured in brains, muscles and money. Nothing else."

"That's interesting," he paused for a moment, taking in the information. You could tell he was more confused than before but still, he was keeping himself together better than you.

"Listen, it's not like I don't believe you but... is there any way you could prove that you are Gojo Satoru? I mean, I don't even know if it's possible... Fuck, you're not supposed to be anything more than an animated drawing," you shook your head, slowly feeling paranoid. If that was a joke, it really was a good one.

"Prove? I mean, I'm not sure, never needed to confirm my identity," the man chuckled. "If I don't have my powers in here, it might be complicated. But you can check, I'm not dressed as anyone. It's my hair, my face. Jujutsu uniform, though it's slightly bloodied now. I have my blindfold with me."

"Sure, sure... Nevermind, I'm just confused. I'll wash your clothes, I guess... tomorrow I'll get you something to change. You can stay here."

"Thanks, sweetheart," he smiled at you. Stupidly attractive.

Deep down you wished you're sleeping. Maybe it's your brain that's playing tricks on you, maybe it's just a fantasy. There was no way this man was standing here, in your little kitchen right now, waiting for his tea to be made. There was no way he could somehow get out of the screen and just... materialize in your little studio apartment. There was just no way, right?

Right?

[deluxewhump]

bahkauv

cw: nonhuman whumpee, hunters of nonhumans, torture, burning as torture, fire-induced temporary blindness, mentioned digit crushing, self healing whumpee, it as a pronoun, restraints, muzzle, purchased for research

note: I've taken great liberties with this little german mythological creature. As you will see, its physical appearance is about ninety percent human in this story.

one: hunter's camp

The creature was in the worst shape Arthur had ever seen anything alive in. The fact that it looked so unnervingly human, especially from a distance, unsettled him even more.

Once they heard what it allegedly was, Stephan said it should have big paws and the short golden fur of a lion. Francis said that wasn’t right at all— it should have a human head and torso, legs like a calf with cloven hooves, and soft brown, white or black ears like a calf too… Stephan eventually elbowed Francis into silence as they approached a muddy paddock where the ill-fated things were corralled after being caught. 

It was mostly vampires in the hunter’s camp. Vampires were such a problem in the region that Arthur himself had been nearly recruited as a hunter this spring past. He’d been intrigued by the commission bonuses, the idea of travel and sleeping under the stars. He’d eyed the weapons and tools the hunters wore at their belts and tucked in their boots with admiration and envy. But he’d lost his stomach for it after seeing what he would have to do to the vampires he caught.

The Bahkauv was no exception, it seemed, despite being a rarer and much more regional phenomenon, not at all the infamous menace vampires had become. In fact, it seemed to Arthur that the thing was human as it cowered in the mud, eyes tracking the hunter that circled it. 

“How do they know it's a Bahkauv?” he asked aloud, not expecting his friends to have a response he didn't have himself. 

Meanwhile, the hunter sloshed a bucket of thick, oily substance onto the cowering creature and struck a match. 

“Oh good God,” Francis breathed beside him. All three of them were frozen in place, waiting to see if the hunter would toss the match.

He did. 

The substance now covering the Bahkauv was clearly some sort of accelerant. Pitch, maybe. Immediately, the fire spread over it and leaped three feet high so the creature appeared as a burning ball, invisible inside a wall of orange flame. Though they could not see it very well, they could hear it. Its shrieks of terror turned to screams of pain— agonized and gut wrenching. Francis was gripping Arthur’s forearm without realizing he’d done so, as if to say do you see this?His mouth was open in shock at the scene before them. Arthur glanced about. Some of the people, hunters and civilians alike, had stopped to see what this particular commotion was about, but they went back to their own business once they realized. This was not out of the ordinary. 

“We use the sun on the vamps,” said a hunter who had come up to the fence to watch. “Easy and extremely effective. But that thing doesn’t burn with the sun. They find drunken soldiers and latch onto them until they’re weak enough for them to attack. Vicious, thieving little creatures. And since there’s a lack of drunken soldiers wandering around alone here lately, who do you think we found this one leeching on?”

“A hunter?”

The hunter nodded.  “Unwise little thing, no? Sunlight doesn’t really bother it, but we found it a similar experience…” he nodded at the twisting and writhing flame in the paddock.  Whatever the substance was was finally burning off. The flames dwindled in the wet mud until they could see the creature beneath, now naked and terribly burned, but clearly alive. The screams tapered off to loud, alarming moans, separated by thin breaths drawn with great difficulty. 

“Why?” asked Arthur with an incredulity he later realized must have sounded terribly naive to a hunter. 

The hunter looked at him, deciding how to answer. In the end he just laughed, and clapped Arthur on the shoulder before wandering away toward the north side of the encampment.  

The one in the ring, dressed identically to the one Arthur had just spoken to, approached the Bahkauv. Arthur was now convinced it was not human after all, or it would not have survived that sustained heat for so long, with no oxygen to breathe. Right? Surely.

The hunter watched the thing struggling to breathe for a moment, tilted his head and toed it in the ribs with his boot. It shrieked in pain, eyes blind and white, blood and saliva dripping from its open mouth, its burned lips. The hunter seemed to consider the condition of the skin, which looked from a distance as though it was already changing from charred to red, from red to pink. 

“Is it healing?” Stephan asked in a low voice. He was not sure he wanted to know. 

“So quickly,” Francis muttered, his forehead deeply creased in distress. Even so, Francis could not help but watch. Arthur knew he was sharply observing, forming questions. His curious mind would not allow him to look away. 

Arthur, by no means a scientist or a scholar, wondered why it was he couldn’t stop looking. The hunter splashed more of the pitch-like substance onto the creature, who howled and threw up its hands protectively, uselessly, against the second lit match that was coming. 

“No,” Stephan exhaled in disbelief. “So soon?”

The flames flew to the accelerant faster than their eyes could follow, and the screams began in earnest again, filling the paddock. Arthur winced and looked away. 

“I need it,” Francis said, nodding emphatically. “Not a vampire. I need to take that to the University. Why study what everyone else is studying? Sure they’re rare, but that means my research would be rare, too. Possibly unique.”

“You don’t know what it’s capable of,” Stephan cautioned. 

“It likes to eat drunken soldiers, for God's sake," Francis argued to the backdrop of horrific wailing. “It will be tied up and muzzled, if we have to. And it's so... pathetic. Look at it."

Arthur and Stephan did. The flames had burned off again. The unfortunate creature was attempting to crawl away from the hunter, who was following it slowly. 

“It’s probably less dangerous than a vampire anyway. And it can move in the sunlight without being carried or making a scene.” Francis looked to them for support. Nearby, a shrieking vampire was being dragged into the sunlight. 

“This place is making me a bit ill,” Stephan said.

"I did warn you both." Arthur turned to Francis. “If you really think it’s a good idea, I’ll bargain for you. You’re too excited about it. They’ll realize they can rip you off.”

—

The Bahkauv was badly burned. This was nothing new, but each time was its own unending Hell. Every inch was agony as it crawled, blindly, across the paddock. The cool mud might have been a relief but for the way it sucked at the skin of its hands and knees, taking much of the ruined flesh with it as it made each slow inch of progress. It didn’t know where it was going. It only knew that staying put would mean more pain, and it could not tolerate any more pain. It was stripped to its barest instincts, and its instinct was to get away.

Dimly, it remembered the hunters didn’t like when it tried to get away from them, even just a few feet to curl up in a corner or against a fence. They’d stake it in place with one of their sharp vampire-sticks, through its hand or the tendons of its foot, grounding it in place to torment until it was mindless, incoherent and screeching like an animal.

Its melted sight began to come back, and it could see the blurry outline of men’s legs standing in front of it. It stopped crawling, paralyzed in fear. It could do nothing but lie on the ground and pant, throat and lungs burned from inhaling fire, but unable to die, just like the vampires in the sun.

A heavy collar was fitted around its neck like a yoke, and someone was yanking it roughly to a standing position. The Bahkauv shook so badly from the recent pain of burning that it collapsed once, twice. It cringed deeply as the hunter who held the leash backhanded its burnt cheek. “Up,” he hissed. “Do you want another round as a parting gift?”

“It’s fine,” said a new man's voice. “Enough. Enough. Here.”

Through slowly improving vision, it saw its leash change hands. It was not prepared to look anyone in the eye, even once it could see well enough to distinguish faces again.

It kept its eyes down, trembling violently as ropes were wrapped around its wrists and then looped through the collar so its hands had to stay crossed near its chest. A leather and iron muzzle was fitted over its head and tightened around the back of its neck. The sharp bit went to right the back of its throat, almost far enough to make it gag. The sides bit into the burnt flesh of its face. Once, it would have been ashamed of how it drooled pinkish foam in front of all these humans. Now it neither knew or remembered shame when the threat of more pain was present, which was always.

A man was picking it up. It hurt terribly, but all the Bahkauv dared to do was whimper through frantically grit teeth. Another pair of hands went under its armpits and hauled it higher, up and into the saddle of a chestnut horse. Each point of contact from the saddle was fresh pain, burnt skin and nightmarish friction. It tried to sit up on its own for as long as it could, but lacked the strength. Once the horse began walking in the direction of the road, it had no choice but to slump weakly against the chest of the man sitting directly behind it and holding the reins. 

It received no punishment, except for the way the man's rough clothes touched its skin. As the Bahkauv's sight returned to normal, it looked about to see two more men on horses of their own. Its healing skin itched and burned, but all it could do was twitch helplessly and watch the horse’s bobbing mane in front of it, or the leafy spring forest pass on either side. It shivered intermittently.

"Give it a blanket, Francis," one of the men said.

"Won't that hurt it? Its skin still shines like a burn."

"Remarkable how minor a burn it looks already though," said the man behind it in the saddle. "Considering."

The human voice, so close it could feel the vibration from it in its back, set it to trembling again.

Exhaustion from the days torture soon set in, and it fell into bouts of unconsciousness that only resembled sleep. It woke from one such period of dreamlessness with a startled flinch, unsure where it was or what was happening. The man he was riding with had his arm around its waist, anchoring it so it did not slump to either side and fall from the horse.

Dread and fear pooled in the Bahkauv’s stomach at the human contact, a large gloved hand splayed across its naked belly. Humans were cunning and cruel. They loved fire and tools, like the metal ones they used to crush its fingers and toes in the evenings when the sun was down and the screams of the vampires had quieted. 

It felt one of the others’ gaze on it and turned its foolish head, accidentally locking eyes with one of the men it was now traveling with. He was young, dressed in a jacket of dark green wool. He reminded the Bahkauv of the new recruits the hunters would bring in now and then, to see what they had the stomach for. Heart pounding, it looked away, and did not dare lift its eyes again until nightfall prompted the men to stop and make camp.

[kaeyas-beloved]

a shot in the dark

Character: Wanderer

— his fourth and final betrayal…

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, death/murder, guns, Apocalypse AU, Wanderer is referred to as such and as Kunikuzushi

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

Started laughing like Light Yagami at work just thinking about the pain I’m about to inflict :)

“You promised me!”

Eyes the colour of a midnight sky - the same eyes you've spent the past few years memorizing, learning and getting lost in their depths during sleepless nights - bubble with tears.

At first glance his expression portrays anger, but you’ve known him long enough to know that there’s more to it. He’s angry, yes, but he’s not angry at you, not really. No, if anything he’s cursing out the world more, for doing him wrong once again, for torturing him by ripping you away from him. Everything he’s ever known feels as if it’s crumbling around him, the barely concealed tremble in his irises telling of the turmoil he’s fighting and losing to.

Denial quickly takes over, your body getting shaken by the shoulders. He starts pleading with you to cut the act, that the joke isn’t funny and never was. Ideas and theories cloud his mind; they say if you cut off the infected part of the body in time you can stop the transformation from human to zombie.

Yet, as he grasps your arm in a firm but not bruising grip, all it takes is one look at the bite on your forearm to know there is no saving you, not with how bloody and discolored the skin around it is. This is the end.

A soft sniffle echoes in the quiet night, his voice softer than before, the note of defeat unmistakable, "You… you promised…"

You did, and faced with the reality that you can't keep that promise, you wrap your arms around him. Whispers of hushes and apologies fill his ear; you're sorry for not being more careful, for acting before thinking, for leaving him alone in this shithole of a world. There will never be enough words or sentences in all the languages to convey the agony you feel at what you're putting him through.

Even though you pull away from him you keep a firm hand on his cheek; you have to make sure he's looking at you when you say what has to be said.

A broken smile appears on your face, your eyes darting all over him, committing each detail to memory, "You're not going to like what I have to say next…"

His reaction is immediate, tone all bark and no bite, "then don't say it at all! Fuck, why didn't you ask me to come along!? Then you could've saved that little girl, I would've dealt with the monsters and you'd be fine right now!"

For a moment you remain quiet; there's truth in his outburst, but you were the one in charge of scavaging today. Your group had scouted a particular place for a few days; no one had taken anything and the volume of zombies was near to none, all that was needed was one person to go raid the place, and you were the lucky sucker.

A tear slips down your face; it’s not like you want to say what comes next, it’s more of a need. As much as you hate to think it, everything from that moment on was business.

Pulling back fully, you reach for his limp hand while stretching to unclamp a gun from the holster on your waist. Anyone with a brain knew what you were about to say, and he didn't like it one bit, eyes sharpening into a glare. Retching his hand from you, Wanderer steps back, shaking his head vehemently.

“No.” He’s firm on his stance one the matter, voice deadly serious as he looks at the weapon you hold out to him. He won’t; he can’t. It takes you parroting the words he said to you before for him to even hear you out. all it takes is a second to stand in front of him again, setting the cool, heavy object in his shaking palm.

"You promised me that if this ever happened, you'd end my life before I turned." In one big step you’re in front of him again, setting the cold object in his shaking palm. Suddenly it feels like he’s holding the weight of tons.

“God I wish I could kiss you right now… I want to so, so bad,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, your noses brushing. You push the silencer attachment into his other hand, "but I don't want to infect you, so this little contact we have will have to do."

"I love you. I love you so much and I never want you to forget that. My dear Kunikuzushi..." Tears roll down your cheeks freely now as you gently rub under his eyes, “please, do this for me. I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

You’re hurting me, he thinks, but deep down he knows this must be done. It’s what you want.

He doesn’t say much as he nods, grabbing into your wrist again. This time it’s not with the urgency or hope that things could still be salvaged; this time it’s with the deep rooted need to comfort you, “I know you love the stars… I think it’s only right that you get to see them for all they are one last time.”

You’re silent as he drags you to a wide open clearing, the grass reaching just below your knees. The tiny gasp you let out was involuntary, as every time you see the night sky it steals your breath away. Even when you’ve seen them a thousand times in this very spot, they never fail to let you escape from your current reality. How fitting… the perfect place to forget the impending end.

Wanderer is deadly silent beside you as he screws on the silencer, refusing to look at you. He knows if he does he’ll fall in love with your wonder filled gaze all over again and back out in a heartbeat.

While looking around and taking in each twinkle of light, you hear a murmur from beside you, barely intelligible. You hum, asking him to repeat himself.

“I love you too.” He says clearly that time, “I’m sorry for not saying it enough.”

Smiling softly at him, you cup his cheek again, “I know. It’s alright, you didn’t have to say it for me to know you love me.”

In an instant you’re pulled into another hug - your last, you bitterly realize - and you wrap your arms around him without a second thought. God how he wants to kiss you too, he wants to say a proper goodbye.

“Go enjoy that stars…” he whispers to you instead, reluctantly letting you slip away from him.

Kunikuzushi was a sharp shooter, known for always hitting his target. It was a trait he took pride in, but as he aims for the back of your head now… he doesn’t know exactly how to feel, knowing what will happen, able to picture the next few minutes in his mind.

Eyes the colour of a stormy night follow you as you walk into the middle of the field. Silently he counts to thirty, then continues to count. By time he reaches fifty he sees your shoulders ease up, your head tilting this way and that, no doubt looking for constellations.

He chose then to pull the trigger, feeling sick to his stomach as he watches your silhouette fall, knowing that you won’t be rising next to him in bed come tomorrow morning.

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

+

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @kochothehoe // @ii-lily2 // @esuz

[welcometosasakiworld]

To be Human a Third Time

"See you tomorrow for a movie marathon?" A girl with black hair and purple eyes asks. She was wearing a black tank top with purple markings, a black skirt with green accents, and under it, there were purple leggings and using a pair of black combat boots.

"Sure thing Sam!" A boy with black hair and ice-blue eyes responds. The teen wore a white hoodie with black details, ripped black jeans, and dark blue converses.

"Bye then, Danny!"

Walking inside his home, he noticed one thing.

The house was dark and quiet...

Too quiet.

Danny didn't have time to turn around before his head hit the floor, and everything went black.

Danny woke up to the sounds of his parents' muffled desperate cries, seeing his parents tied into chairs while he was on the ground with his hands tied, close to something that felt wrong.

Extremely wrong...

Looking behind him, he found what was messing with his ghost senses.

A Lazarus Pit...

But this one felt wrong... corrupted... or tainted.

This particular pit was reduced to something lesser than a blob ghost.

Danny still remembers his lessons with clockwork. The master of time told him how Pariah Dark had, in his reign, created sentient pools of ectoplasm to better feed the habitants of the Infinite Realms, and while those pits still did their jobs to feed ghosts, they weren't used like in the past.

But something must have happened when they lost control of those pits, and CW could not see what happened but knew a human interfered with them and now had control of the Lazarus Pit.

He needed to get away!

Whatever happened to the ectoplasm, he knew it was...

Danny had to stop to dwell on his thoughts when a man came out of the shadows of the dark room, which only the ectoplasm to light the room, giving it an eery vibe.

"I will offer one more time, help me with my... project, and I will not introduce your son to my ranks..." The mysterious man said to his parents, who were looking in fear at the man while trying to look brave.

Danny's parents started to scream, desperation very clear in their voices. The teen couldn't clearly hear what they were saying but knew the man wanted something if he kidnapped his parents and used Danny as a bargain.

The man seemed to have lost his patience as he grabbed Danny by the neck and dumped him in the pit.

The moment he touched the tainted ectoplasm, he felt immense pain he never imagined was possible. The tainted ectoplasm was invading his core, messing with his body and ghost-half.

He could faintly hear his parents scream before he blacked out.

___________________

He didn't have a name.

As master told him so.

He was a weapon, a tool to his master.

He killed, sabotaged, pleased his master, and was everything his master needed him to be.

So... why did the other weapon insist he was a human being with rights?

It began when Onryo had to nurse someone back to health, and the new weapon thought it was human and wanted to go after his murderer and old owner.

All for revenge.

Onryo did not understand, especially when Red Hood called him Danny or Phantom.

It made no sense, but there was something about the name Phantom that reached something inside of him. It made him warm... complete.

Like... he should remember, know why the name was his.

________________

They were running from the league.

Well... not exactly them, but Red Hood decided to kidnap Onryo and take it with him.

Now they were on the run.

They had reached Gotham some weeks ago, and now Red Hood, who insisted Onryo call him Jason, was hunting down the Joker while Onryo was ordered to find a school and blend with the population.

It didn't make sense.

Jason gave him some identification papers so he could apply to university. They said he was Danyal Phantom, a student who finished high school with high scores and aspiring to become an astronaut and work at NASA.

Should I continue this on ao3?

[jamiedc-they-them]

Good People Part III: As you would have them do unto you. (Platonic)

Note: A summary of episode 3-4-beginning of 5. CW/ Discussions of PTSD flashbacks, trauma - mild mention of what happened in Reader's past; needles

Summary: Capture, being used as bait, having internal spirals you can't control, losing a finger, and almost having your organs harvested; something about that really bonds two people together.

Part 1 Part 2

"It's smart," you say, carrying the head, "his idea. His head, and whatever the hell is inside it, for your dad. It's a fair trade."

"It's horrible," Lucy objects.

"Most things are here."

"I hate it."

"Yeah, me too," you admit.

"How have you survived all on your own up here? I mean, no weapons or anything," she then realises how that sounds, "sorry."

You wave it off, accidentally waving the head in her direction, "you're good. And, I used to. I wasn't alone. Had some people."

"What happened with them?"

"Most of them took our stash and ran."

"'Our'?" She catches onto.

You pause at a water filled place. No way you'll get through that without something eating you.

You clench your jaw, "yeah...I was the only one left after a few days."

"I'm -" she goes to reach out, then remembers how you reacted before. She doesn't touch you, but her hand hovers near your shoulder, and she instead finishes her sentence, "sorry. I'm sorry for, whatever happened."

You shrug, "yeah, well. Guy pissing on my wound ain't the worst thing in the world, I'll say that," you leave the conversation there.

As you try and find a way through, a gulper jumps out of the water. It grabs Lucy on the leg, and knocks you away.

"Y/N!" Lucy calls out, being dragged, "Y/N, my gun!"

You put a hand to your head, it ringing. You blink to focus your vision, finding Lucy's drug gun in front of you. You crawl to it, the world moving in slow motion almost.

"Here!" Lucy says, throwing you a shot. You open the gun, and slot it in place.

You aim it up, as Lucy tries to kick the thing to get it to let go of her leg.

You fire. It hits the target. It works for a moment. Lucy gets scratched, but she isn't worried about that right now.

"Y/N! The head!" she calls out to you. You're already watching the Gulper run away with it and go into the water. You are already up and running. Lucy isn't far behind you.

"Dang it!" she says, before looking at her Pipboy, looking at the tracker for it.

She takes off her bag.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" You say, putting an arm out to stop her, "I'll go. I can swim better."

"You can't be serious!"

"Like you ain't just gonna jump in there yourself!"

A whistle breaks up your argument. There he is, the Ghoul from before. Lucy is on the ground the next moment, and a pistol is in your face.

"Don't move now, sunshine," he says to you, before asking Lucy about the head.

She doesn't know, she lies. Even saying "I lost it" instead of we.

So, you're both then tied up, and dragged.

To you, it's too similar to...to before.

You go silent, almost numb.

Lucy is dunked in the water. She keeps begging with the Ghoul, that doesn't help with your memories...

"Be like your friend," the Ghoul says, "and be more quiet, huh?"

You don't talk, not for a long time in your journey. You're just stuck in your head.

She's tried to talk to you time and time again, each time getting more concerned - even airing it to the Ghoul - but nothing comes of it. There's only one instance, when he talks to his Ghoul friend, you come back, sensing the atmosphere. You turn to Lucy, and look away from the scene. Lucy looks to you. It's enough to not let her see the man get shot at least. Even if the blood hits you both.

She can see that you've gone back to how you were when you first met, a mess on the edge it seemed. Desperate, and dying.

Now, more than ever, she understands what that's like.

"Y/N...drink, please," she begs. And, for a moment, you come out of your internal hell.

Slowly you approach it. And then human instinct takes over. You drink, as much as you can fit in your mouth, greedily. It isn't like when she met you. Here, you're a survivor. Not a friend.

You couldn't be that survivor right now. So, she would be in your place. She promises to.

It's why she runs, to try and buy you some time to fight back.

She gets lassoed, but rips off a finger. She loses her own.

"Now, as much as I respect you for it," the Ghoul admits, "try that again, and it's your friend who's next. And I'll give them something to stew over, ok?"

She nods, but he see's the threat in her eyes as well. A fire that's there. He looks back to you. someone who is so lost.

It reminds him of himself in the first few years of his search. He doesn't ask you, though. He tells himself he doesn't care - and, part of that is true, you're just cargo to get more of his meds - but, it's mainly because he's scared of what you'll say. And if it'll drag him back there as well. Grief, loss, pain, a hell of a motivator, but something you could also drown in as well. He drowned for a bit, for god knows how long - it's how his legend grew. But, he pulled himself together. Once you're gone, you can pull yourself together or not - that's not up to him.

So, he leaves you alone. Continues with Lucy, shooting the Vault-tech sign and all. He hated putting his thumb up for that dumb advert.

Lucy looks back to you. That gunshot has made you jump, but now your eyes are darting around. You're trying to find exits. You're, somewhat, back in the present.

You look to her, genuinley fearful - but she's just glad you're back with her. That she's not alone anymore. Selfish, she knows, but she's glad. Gets her hopes up somewhat.

You arrive at your destination, a supermarket. There, the trade goes by.

"Nice to have you back with us, sunshine," The Ghoul says to you, "shame it happened too late," he quips before shoving you forward.

You and Lucy enter the market. A Mr Handy robot greets you both.

"You will both be swell in no time," the bot says to you. Another, identical bot, approaches you, "my colleague here will have you in tip-top shape in no time."

You look to Lucy, 'fight' you say to her. She nods; 'be safe' is what she says to you.

You both go to different rooms.

"Now, my friend," the Handy says to you, "how may I help you today?"

"Uh, couple of cuts," you say, "some infection of some kind from urine."

"Oh, I do say, old chap, that does not sound sanitary at all!" you shrug, "well, not to worry. I have just the thing for you here."

You see the robot go past different cabinets. It even spins around at some point - maybe it was the urine that threw it off - but finally it finds something for you. Rad-away, and some antibiotics.

"Get those down you and let the Rad-away do its thing, and you should be good as new in no time at all!"

You inject the radaway into you, and take the antibiotic. You don't know if it's just you making it up in your own mind - fooling yourself - but you do feel stronger.

"How do you feel, old chum?"

"Better," you say, "thank you."

"Absolutely no worry, at all, my friend. Now, just sit still for this next part."

You do so, but soon regret it; as you are forced down onto the chair.

"What the fuck --"

"Now, now, no need for language like that! All will be ok soon. Just a small prick for your organs and then you're free!"

Well, when you put it like that --

A saw starts up. You struggle in the straps. Restrained, and having no choice but to wait for death, you've been here before. It was what made you be alone.

You manage to, just, loosen one of your arms, and turn just enough to make the saw hit the straps. You grab a tray, swinging it into the robot. Using the brief time you have, you undo your other strap and shove the bed into it. Adrenaline at a high. You can fight this time. You can stop it this time.

You grab a scalpel, and jam it into one of the eyes. You do it to another after dodging a swing or two. It falls to the floor, and you begin stamping on it. It won't get up, but you also can't let it live. This isn't a man pissing on you; this was something - programmed by someone - to harvest your organs. This is a threat. A raider like threat.

Still, this Mr Handy isn't to blame. It's been programmed to kill you. That, and it did heal you.

So, you crouch down, putting a hand on its head, say 'I'm sorry' to it, before driving your blade into it one more time.

It doesn't speak after that.

Removing the scalpel, you collect yourself. You did it. You set it right. The ghosts in your head can leave you alone now.

You get up, finding what sharp objects you can, before you start to leave and --

"Oh! Oh, Y/N, thank god!" you run directly into Lucy.

You both give each other a once over, nodding when you don't find any wounds.

"You have colour to your cheeks!" Lucy celebrates, "did yours --?"

"Try and kill me? Yeah. Yours --" you pause, looking at Lucy's, "...didn't?"

She looks back at it, then to you, "Oh, no, it did. I just reprogrammed it."

You put out your bottom lip and nod, impressed, "atta girl."

Lucy chuckles, "alright, what do you say we bust this place?"

You nod, and smile a genuine one, "let's do it," you say.

So, together, you do. Making them release the Ghouls. The last one...however, isn't a good call.

"Move!" you say, dragging Lucy away right as she grabs a gun. It goes off, the Ghoul goes silent. It's just you both left.

Lucy looks at her hands.

You get up, and move in front of her, crouching down, "it - it's ok," you say, not used to being the comforting type after so long...the ghost in your head of your previous time being like this play on you. Lucy isn't like that, like them, she's alive. She's had your back. So far, anyway.

She looks to you again, eyes lost like your one's once were.

"Hey..." you say, putting your hand out, letting it hover near hers. She looks to it, to you.

"How -- I --"

"I know, I know," you say, "it's ok. You had to."

It takes a moment, before she gathers herself. Her eyes go a shade of colder, "the, uh, the man who took us?" she says, seemingly out of the blue, "he traded us for those," she nods her head to something to your side; looking, you see it's vials. Orange ones.

You look back to Lucy, "no one else?" you say, knowing her line of thinking.

She nods, "no one else. Not if we can avoid it."

So, you give the Ghoul some vials, and leave him be to whatever it is that's next for him. It's not up to you.

Now it's you both again, walking side by side with some weapons to your name.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Lucy asks. her voice isn't as chirpy or in awe of everything as before. It's rougher, more serious.

You nod.

"What were you thinking about as we were dragged along?"

"Some people I let down."

She nods, "your family."

"I thought they were."

She nods again, "I lost some of mine, too. I never really knew my mother. I lost some friends to Raiders."

You nod this time, "you know what they're like then."

"Ruthless."

"Brutal."

"Animals."

"Arseholes."

"Butchers."

"You know they made me watch?" Lucy stays silent, knowing that you need this, "they took all my stuff, killed all my friends who wouldn't join them? Left me for dead. A...reminder, or something."

"How long ago was that?"

"Lost my Pip," you say, "didn't really count the days. Just sort of wandered as best I could. Guess I hoped the circles or something would be best punishment."

"You don't deserve that."

"Yeah, well, you don't deserve to be hauled around like cargo," you say, coming to a stop, "you don't deserve to drink that piss water. Or get shot at, or anything. You deserve the vault, and family and not the fucked up place that is up here with fucked up people like me!"

You hate the tears building in your eyes. Lucy hates seeing them.

"I'm not a good person, Lucy. And, to be honest, I don't fully know why you came looking for me."

"Because you're my friend -"

"Am I?" you fire back with, "I mean, jesus, I got you to Filly, got shot, then came with you for my own survival. I didn't help with the Ghoul, or any of that."

"Am I angry at you?"

"I don't know why you aren't."

"Because, and it's why I came back for you; you're my friend, when things come down to it, I know you'll help me," that smile returns, one of a genuine belief in people and her mission. You shut your eyes, your mind and ghosts of past failures telling yourself you don't deserve that look - let alone being called a friend - but you open your eyes and look at them. Not hiding from them.

You hear something, a cry out, and both turn to an abandoned tunnel.

You both go forward. Roaches are climbing over a Brotherhood of Steel suit. You and Lucy shoot the roaches.

"Look, my friend and I here, everyone we've met so far - aside from each other - have tried to kill us," Lucy tells the man in the suit. He promises he won't.

Lucy goes to say more, but instead vomit comes out.

"I have rad-away!" the man says, "I can help. Please, just let me out!"

Lucy collapses. You don't even think, you catch her and lay her down. Trying to shake her back awake.

"She doesn't have long until she's unconscious," the suit says, "I have what she needs to -"

"I know what she needs! Come on Lucy, come on!" You say, shaking her again. More vomit leaves her. You put her on her side.

"Look, just let me out and I can help her! Please! Please!"

You don't have many options. Desperation is a hell of a motivator. You go to the suit, turning the wheel and letting the man out.

"Thank you. Thank you --" he says to you.

"Thank me by saving her," you say, pointing to Lucy.

He nods, grabbing the radaway like he said. You put Lucy's head in your lap.

"You're gonna be fine, ok. You're gonna be fine," you promise her. You move some hair from her face. She coughs.

The man looks to you, and you nod. He injects the needle into Lucy. You see the transfusion start.

It takes time, but slowly the colour starts to return to Lucy's skin.

"Can --" she whispers, quietly, "can I hold your hand?" she asks.

You put your hand in hers.

"I - I knew I was a good judge of character," she wheezes, eyes opening and blinking a few times as she recovers, "I knew you were a friend."

You chuckle, half between that and a sort of sob of joy, "yeah," you say, "yeah, guess you were right."

You look to the Knight you saved, and give a nod of gratitude. He nods back, and sits back onto his hands, trying to recover himself, He's covered in sweat, likely having been put in the suit for a while.

"Thank you," you say to him, gratitude pouring through and walls being fully down.

"Thank you," he parrots back.

You nod, looking back down at your friend. She looks at you, giving you a smile.

You smile back.

She's ok. You haven't failed this time.

You've saved a friend.

You've saved a friend.

Part 4

[snakebites-and-ink]

Aquarius - Examination

Masterlist

CW: Conditioned whumpee, internalized dehumanization, consent issues, nonsexual partial nudity

The weapon’s transfer went without a hitch. He arrived at the new facility, where the people did all the necessary intake and showed him where he would be kept.

His new director seemed more personally interested in him than his former one had, but that could just be because he was a new acquisition or the only weapon of his kind this branch of the organization had.

The new team he belonged to seemed very concerned about making sure they were addressing all his needs; he hoped that meant they were more careful about being prepared, rather than less-knowledgeable about taking care of a weapon like him.

Naia, his director, had instructed 28515 to go to the medical area for an examination the next day. He obeyed, of course: a weapon always did.

The medic, Jal, greeted 28515 and exchanged idle pleasantries as if talking to a person. That was fine, though the weapon was sure he wasn’t as good for conversation as an actual human being. Perhaps the doctor just liked talking regardless.

The medical exam was fairly routine, though it became increasingly evident that this doctor was used to working only with people.

Jal measured Aquarius’ vitals—all within acceptable ranges.

Jal performed some other basics such as looking in 28515’s eyes, ears, and throat, and listening to his heart and lungs. The doctor paused slightly once or twice but didn’t seem to actually find any problems.

“If it’s okay with you, being able to inspect your body would allow me to make a more thorough examination, which could tell us more, to make sure we’re giving you the best possible care. I’ll only go as far as you tell me you’re comfortable with though. Can I do that?”

Couldn’t he? Why was he asking the weapon? “I don’t understand, sir.”

“I’m asking for your consent to take off some of your clothing for the physical exam.”

“Consent is something for people. I'm a weapon.”

“What?”

“I’m a weapon, sir.”

…Jal could unpack that later. Right now he was taking care of his patient’s physical health. “Okay,” Jal said, uncertain. “Regardless, would it be agreeable to you if I examined you?” He hoped the different wording would provide Aquarius with an out if he actually didn’t want this.

Aquarius fixed him with a blank look. “I have no preference on the matter.”

Oh, Jal was in over his head. But if his patient couldn’t share an opinion, he’d rather give care than withhold it. “Okay,” he said weakly, and gently pulled off Aquarius’ shirt.

He had a lot of scars. Most of them were small and fairly faded, but still definitely there. They didn’t all look like things that could happen in a fight.

None of the scars were such that they limited his mobility or other such problems, which was lucky—or possibly…deliberate.

Regardless, Jal checked for remaining injuries or other issues. He didn’t find any outstanding problems.

“I’d like to take a few samples and run some tests to get a better idea of your health. Is that okay?”

28515 nodded. Tests were nothing new.

Jal had Aquarius put back on his shirt as Jal got out what he’d need for sample collection. He drew some blood and swabbed the patient’s mouth.

Jal thanked Aquarius for his time and cooperation, and invited him to come back anytime he needed, then dismissed him.

After he’d run all the tests he needed to, Jal talked with Naia.

There were some strange results in the patient’s blood test which didn’t seem to impact his health but might validate the rumors of human experimentation in the branch they’d gotten him from. All things considered, Aquarius’ mental state was a bigger concern than his physical health.

“There were a few strange results that might need looking into, but he seems healthy,” Jal told Naia. “All his past injuries healed remarkably well.”

Naia focused in on that detail like a hawk. “Past injuries?”

“He has some rather concerning-looking scars, but none of them are fresh. I’m more concerned by what he said.”

Jal explained what Aquarius had said about consent and being a weapon. Naia looked thoughtful. “He said something similar to me. That he was a weapon. It’s why I don’t have a better name to call him than Aquarius. That’s the role the other branch forced him to take on.”

She’d unconfidently held out hope that it was some sort of hyperbole or figurative speech, but it seemed he really thought of himself as an actual weapon.

“What’ll we tell the team?”

“The truth, I suppose,” Naia said. “With how regularly they’re going to interact with him, I figure trying to hide it would do more harm than good. I’ll ask him if he wants to keep it private and of course respect it if he says he does, but I have my doubts that he would say even if he did care.”

“What’ll we do?” Jal worried softly, more to himself than Naia.

“We’ll figure it out. We have a good team.”

[tatorthots]

— a jealous encounter

Featured: wanderer x afab!reader x Childe (implied)

cw: suggestive themes, jealousy, cursing, (slight) hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, (slight) possessiveness

Synopsis: Jealousy is nothing more than a pathetic human emotion. It’s truly almost humorous how insecure and weak-minded mortals are, getting riled up simply because the object of their affection gets a little attention. Of course, the former sixth harbinger is far above such trivial emotions (he’s not)

a/n: scara being jealous, soft, and sulky because I said so and also I used sm names for scara because I didn’t know what name to use and I panicked btw have you guys been playing the windtrace event?? I literally can’t stop playing it help

art credit: @Liann1009 on twt

The swaying of forest leaves reflected off the clear spring waters of the still river you had come to rest by. The sun was still high above the fluffy clouds and its warmth gently kissed the skin of every living being and creature under it. It was truly a beautiful day in the outskirts of Sumeru City. And along with the chirping of birds, the sound of your laughter resonated through the forest breeze like a soft melody — absolutely enchanting, he thought, if it wasn’t caused by that damned insolent insect.

Archons, could the man not get a break? Is this finally the ‘divine punishment’ mortals so often preach about? Glaring sharp eyes quietly trailed the tall, orange-headed idiot as he fumbled around you like some love-sick child, far too comfortable with you for the latter's liking. Feelings of disdain soon turned to seething anger. Despite all my efforts, slender fingers dug into the grass underneath him, he still manages to ruin what little I have. Had he not gone through grueling enough changes? Did sacrificing absolutely everything to start anew mean so little? He gave up his past titles, erased his previous relationships, and severed every last thread that connected him to his past self — aside from you — and yet, here stood the bane of his existence during his time as a Fatui Harbinger. And to make things worse, you’re actually friends with him.

Childe, he sneered.

“Ajax, how could you get so excited over anemo slimes?” You giggled as your eyes fluttered into crescents and you bashfully hit the freckled man next to you. You couldn’t help but tease your longtime friend for getting so excited over a few anemo slimes floating around a tree. Though you’d admit, the straight edge determination reflecting from his ocean eyes as he stood straight and strung his bow back to aim made your stomach swirl slightly. You noticed the way his fingertips elegantly let go of the string and effortlessly sliced through the anemo slime mid-air, despite being positioned below and meters away from the distant cliff side tree the anemo slimes were hovering around. It’s amazing, you thought. But what earned him your admiration was the simple fact that he wasn’t trying. Childe didn’t need to. Even when he’s doing something in lighthearted fun, so long as it involves weapons, he’ll breeze through any obstacle or ‘challenge’ with ease. That’s what made Childe, Tartaglia.

However, there was someone who didn’t share that sentiment.

Honestly, Scaramouche doesn’t even know how he ended up in this archon-forsaken situation. The day had begun like any other day, with your limbs intertwined with Scaramouche as he gently stroked your hair and counted the seconds in between as your chest slowly rose and fell — an action he vehemently denies that he does because he longs for your touch; not to mention that it just so happens that the feel of your body against his calms the occasional insecurities and self-deprecating voices whispering in his head. Scaramouche lightly shook his head in flustered contempt when he caught himself softly smiling and gqze slightly softening at the memory of your skin against his, useless thoughts aren’t going to aid me in figuring out how or why I’m stuck here. internally groaning he thought of when you woke up today. you had found him already awake and tidying up the room you had both stayed in the previous night. As you sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you watched Scaramouches quick and precise movements as he prepared your traveling satchel. Funny, you thought, he does all this and I never hear a thing. As much of a light sleeper as you might be, no matter how many chores he’s completed before you wake, you never hear a sound stir you from your slumber. Of course, when you finally got out of bed you found yourself presented with a small plate of assorted fresh fruit waiting for you on the kitchen table, a sight you see every morning. However, you’ve long learned better than to outright thank him for breakfast, or any small acts of service. Not because you don’t appreciate his quiet considerations, but because you learned that Scaramouche will act like a total brat if you confront him about his kindness. Insults range from calling you a moron to being labeled delusional, so you’ve figured it’s best to enjoy these little things and thank him in that way. Lastly, Scara thought about the events that happened after breakfast when it was time to set off yet again. Ah, that’s right…, he begrudgingly remembered. it was as soon as you left the inn that you happened to bump into a tall figure. An apology left your lips quickly before you hurriedly scrambled to catch up to Scaramouches' fading figure until a hand cautiously grabbed your wrist.

“Y/n?” The stranger spoke. At the sound of your name, you quickly whipped your head around to see a messy head of orange locks and a familiar lopsided smile being directed at you. “Ajax?” “So it is you—!!” Sculpted arms immediately wrapped around your frame and lifted you into their embrace. “It’s been too long!”, the voice beamed, and your momentary confusion soon turned into joy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly giggled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a mission in Inazuma?” You questioned as he set you down with his hands still latched onto your hips, “Well I was mostly there for personal affairs, and I just arrived in sumeru a few weeks ago on assignment,” his voice softened as his head slightly tilted to the side, “I’ve been missing you.” Raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brushed your thumb across the freckles adorning the mighty 11ths features, “I’ve missed you too, Ajax.” Then as if a light bulb had just lit up in his head Childe clasped his hand over yours, “Are you free today? Why don’t you go sightseeing with me? My treat!” “Ah, well I’m actually traveli—“ but before you could finish your sentence you felt cold fingertips clasp around your forearm and roughly snatch it away from the gingers hold, “She’s traveling with me,” indigo irises narrowed menacingly on Childe, and the pure aura exuding from the raven-haired man was comparably hostel to the icy and dreadful snowstorms of Snezhnaya. Scaramouche forced himself between you and Childe, standing protectively in front of you as the latter glared down at him with a smile still plastered across his lips, “Comrade. Who’s this?” Childe inquired, “Oh! This is m—“ you tried answering but Scaramouche cut you off once more with an exaggerated scoff, “The question is who are you?” Crossing his arms and holding his head ever so arrogantly he continued, “Tch. Don't you have any common decency? Or are you just too impertinent to practice basic respect?” A short, dry laugh left Childes lips, “I see.” Crossing his arm and raising a hand up to lightly tap his fingertips on his jaw, Childe feigned ignorance, “Y/n never minded my touches,” with a taunting smile and desolate eyes, he chuckled, “in fact, I’m all too familiar with where she prefers to be touched.” And with that Scaramouches patience snapped, “You dare to—“ sensing the oncoming altercation you quickly grabbed a hold of Scaras hand and guided him behind you, “You’re both very important to me,” you began, “and if I matter to either of you then you’d respect those who matter to me,” glancing between the two men you sharpened your tone, “I’d like you both to get along.”

That was the last thing Scaramouche recalled before he found himself third wheeling the rest of the day. With each moment seemingly getting worse and worse. What an infantile reason to get excited about. They’re practically oversized balloons, his attention darted in Childes direction and his usual scowl was now replaced with a daggering glower, Evidently, this damn worthless scum is filled with much more hot air than any damn anemo slime in the sky.

Scaramouche wasn’t ignorant, it was clear to him since that nuisance came around that his former Harbinger ‘comrade’ had deeper feelings for you than he let on. After all, despite his distaste for the man Scara had spent adequate enough time with Childe to learn a few aspects about him; firstly, Childe can be described by humans as having an extroverted, ‘charming’ persona, and he has no trouble making friends wherever he goes, however, he never lets anyone touch him — it’s a subtle habit and not one easily picked up on; a far cry to the current situation in which Scaramouche has had to swat his hand away from you for the fourth time in a minute. Secondly, despite the hours upon hours the idiot could spend rambling about fishing or spar training, he never actually shares any personal information about himself, and yet, he’d gone as far as surrendering his real name to you. Not to mention he had no problem speaking to you about how much his siblings would ‘love’ you, of course, they’d love her, he scoffed, who doesn’t fall for her? Lastly, and most notably, Childe has no glimmer of life in his eyes. To be honest, if Scaramouche had to think, the only other time the 11th showed even a hint of a glint he would say it would be when Childes tearing his enemies limb from limb — an idea Scara is finding more and more appealing. So then, he thought, I guess I’ll just have to stomp on that little light of his. Tapping his foot impatiently on the ground an ominous shadow gloomed over his face as he lost himself in his thoughts, she’s mine. mine. mine. It had been long since Scaramouche had realized his feelings for you, and he had made it very clear to you that he had no intention of sharing you with others. No, Scaramouche no longer wanted just your friendship, he wanted you.

“Shall I go buy some snacks from a food stall nearby before dinner, comrade?” Standing from his spot next to you, Childe towered over you with his body leaning down to loom mere inches from your slightly warmed face, “I did say I’d treat you today..” half-lidded eyes traced your movements as he brought a gloved hand to cascade across your cheekbone, “didn’t I?” His voice was low and his smile smug; Childe knew full well what he was doing in front of Scaramouche, and he basked in it, though it’s not as if these actions were all too new either. “A-ah.. I- um,” stuttering over her words, huh?, Childe mused, how cute. However, the mere sight of this atrocious act almost made Scaramouche use his anemo vision to slice that wretched excuse of a warrior in half. With a soft smile, you leaned into Childes hand, making the man’s eyes widen in slight surprise as a light dust of pink spread over his face, “That’d be great Ajax, thank you.”

Internally groaning, Scaramouche rested his arms on his knees and hid his head behind his arms as his pretty lilac eyes stayed focused on you, there’s her smile again…, his brows faintly knitted together when he felt his chest start to ache, always caused by something else. He couldn’t help but wonder whether you were truly happy wandering through the lands of Teyvat with him.

“Then I’ll make it quick!” With a goofy smile and a wink, Childe went off into the city walls. Leaving you and Scaramouche resting alone with nothing more than the sound of the river flowing and the city chatter lightly busting in the background. Closing his eyes, Scaramouches brows quirked in annoyance, that self-serving imbecile didn’t even bother to pretend he even remembered me. The feeling in his chest was all too familiar to the electro Archons puppet. Clutching where his heart should be he couldn’t understand why this feeling wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t learned his lesson despite starting anew. Maybe I was meant to live this way… he thought. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder, Scara whipped his head up to see you sitting right next to him, your body lulled to the side and brushing against him as you tilted your head down to get a better look at his sulking face. For a second he was stunned by the suddenness of your closeness, but then he was held captive by your feathery lashes and beaming smile; a warm smile finally directed at him. How quickly his chest went from hurting to blooming with warmth was almost pathetic. Even if you were the reason why he was drowning in misery, even if his pain had been caused by your ignorance, you were still the reason why he felt joy. It’s always because of you…, without realizing his hand had already reached to gently tuck the loose strands of hair blowing across your face, and just as quickly as he realized he retracted his hand in a huff of frustration and embarrassment.

Humming in acknowledgment, you stared off into the grassy mountains of sumeru, “You’ve been awfully quiet today,” your voice was soft and tranquil, “how uncharacteristic of you, no?” Glancing to the side you smiled when you saw him lightly scoff under his breath as he turned his head away from your direction.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re rambling on about.” He grumbled.

“Shall I elaborate?”

“I’d rather you not.” Piercing irises threateningly glared in your direction.

“You’ve been ill-tempered,” you began, and Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “hmm which isn’t all too out of the ordinary, but you’ve definitely been lashing out at every little thing.” With a knowing glint, you glanced at your longtime companion, “Not to mention your aggression with Ajax.” And at that Scaramouche grimaced at the way you spoke his actual name, “You force yourself between Ajax and I whenever he gets close, you demean every single thing he says, you smack his hand away when he reaches out to me — even if it’s just to hand me something, and you taunt and mock him every chance you get,” pausing for a second you let out a heavy exhale before softening your gaze, unsure of whether what you say next is the right thing. “Kuni… all of that isn’t what worries me,” at that you felt his entire body stiffen, seemingly holding his breath as if every ticking second was more important than the last, “I noticed the nail marks you have on your palms from all the time you’ve spent clenching your fists, and I see the conflict that’s been raging behind your eyes since this journey with the three of us began,” balling your owns fists on the fabric of your clothes you let out your final observation, “As small as the changes are, or as hard as you try to hide it, kunikuzushi, I see you. I’ve memorized every expression, studied every curve and line that forms on your features and what they mean… I know you fear that I’ll abandon you,” you purse your lips at the thought, “So how dare you. How dare you ever think I would abandon my other half.”

The absolute, incredulous stare Scaramouche gave you almost made you choke out a muffled laugh. Catching the anemo holder off guard and speechless was a prize all too rare to witness. Yet, what caught your attention wasn’t that you’ve managed to leave him stunned and tight-lipped but instead the unfamiliar red that spread from his cheeks to his ears. There was a quiet gasp from your lips as you admired how beautifully his pale complexion was set off by the searing color. Instantly, your ears perk up as he speaks.

“I.. you don’t…” he began, but immediately he stopped himself. Then, a moment passed. And then a minute. The tension between you two seemed to pile up in pressure, and you now found yourself holding your breath and feeling your heart start to quicken as you stared at him. Awaiting what was to come next. With a defeated look and an airy sigh, he finally turned his full head toward you. “You really are foolish y/n,” his voice was strained, and his eyes peered into yours with such a soft intensity, “hah, really.. you couldn’t be more incompetent, could you?” Swallowing the lump in your throat, your glistening doe eyes simply gawked at him almost owl-like, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your dumbfounded face. Then that’s when he smiled. A true, genuine, adoring smile, “Haven’t you realized that I’m in lo-“

“I’m back—!”

Childe’s voice ripped through the tension and practically grated Scaramouches ears while you jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Snapping your head to Childe, you saw him holding a small bag with the label titled Puspa Café. “I hope you don’t mind what I got us!” Reaching his hand into the bag he pulled out a crispy, sweet-smelling Candied Ajilenakh Nut dessert, “When I was walking through the different vendors, I was quite surprised to have found a dish that looked so similar to one of the desserts my motherland of Snezhnaya has!” Childe puffed his chest and extended the sugary sweet to you, “Though I’m confident the one from home tastes much better than this, I’m happy to share something similar with you,” softening his azure gaze as you took the dessert from him he continued with a gentler tone, “but I hope to one day treat you to one back home.” Blinking once, then blinking twice, you quickly glanced over at Scaramouche now positioned with his knee up and resting his arm on his knee to hide his face once more, I wonder what would’ve happened…, you pondered, but you knew better than to prod the conversation given the current situation. I suppose it’d be best to ask again later, turning your attention back to Childe you offered a thankful smile, “I’m sure one day we can visit if Kuni agrees to go.” At that, both men froze for a second. We..?, now it was Scaramouches turn to stare owlishly at the dancing grass brushing against his fingers, and without noticing he felt his entire body relax as he let out a quiet, small sigh of relief. Whereas Childe clenched his jaw in annoyance while still forcing an easy-going facade, I need to get rid of him, “Sounds like a plan comrade!” Was all he could muster through slightly clasped teeth as he sat down next to you. Humming to himself in deep thought, Childe wondered what to do about that asshole little leech that stayed glued to you.

All of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes — well, two were lost in their own thoughts either processing or scheming, whereas you simply sat between the two men enjoying time together as you feast on your sweet treat. "Ah. Comrade, you seem to have a few crumbs," "Hm?" Moving your hand up to brush away the stray pieces, Childe gently stopped you, "Allow me." He softly spoke as he leaned in close and carefully swiped away the crumbs; his hand then cascaded across your plush skin and caressed the curve of your jaw. Gazing into his eyes and cheeky smile, you found yourself at a loss, feeling both embarrassed and shy from the gesture.

Scaramouche, however, was not at all pleased. This little game of Childes has gone on far too long and writhing in self-loathing had been nothing but a waste of time. You were his. You’ll always be his, and there wasn’t a human, harbinger, adeptus, or archon in this damned world that could ever change that. So, with swift movements, he laced an arm around your waist and pulled you on top of his lap and into his possessive embrace. The sudden movement had stunned both you and Childe and you had no time to react as your eyes glanced up at the smug smirk spreading across Scaramouches lips. His eyes were low and scowling intently at Childe, while the Harbingers smiling face quickly fell, replaced by a much colder and sinister glower. “All this time and not once did you offer me one of those burnt little treats,” Scaras voice was low and mocking, and you could feel the icy touch of his slender fingertip tracing down the side of your face to the base of your chin to guide your full attention towards him, “guess that just means I have to take one myself, won’t I?” And in a quick moment, his lips came crashing down on yours. His kiss was rough but cautious, and you could feel the longing and desperation emitting atop his soft lips. At first, your eyes blew wide open in shock, but then, no matter how hard you tried to focus on what was going going on or move your body to react, all you could fixate on was one little detail, his lips taste.. like a Zaytun peach.

Parting his lips from yours, his eyes quickly scanned your face for any hint of disgust, any reaction, anything. You could clearly see the worry pooling in his irises, but before regret could creep up on him your eyes turned into crescent moons, and a pretty pink blush flushed your cheeks as you smiled dotingly at him. He was taken aback. At first, he was shocked, then confused, he even felt a little angry, but mostly he felt love. Turning his attention from you to the glaring daggers and clenched fists Childe had, Scara smiled in triumph and narrowed his eyes in slight. “You’re right, Harbinger,” bringing his thumb up to glide across his lips he licked them, “this treat isn’t bad, hah, not bad at all.”

side note: happy new year everyone!! and happy birthday to my first, and most cherished, Zhongli ᥫ᭡

Reblogs and Interactions Are Appreciated!! ღ

[diejager]

Bro have you ever seen chainsaw man? I genuinely think it’d be scary as fuck in the monster au if the reader was like any type of the devils 😭 the control, blood, war or chainsaw devil, like bro how do you even counter that when they could just spam heal with a drop of blood no matter how bad their injury is and get stronger the more they are feared? Also the whole lending their abilities by contracts. 💀 if you haven’t watched chainsaw man id recommend ♥️

Cw: blood and gore, devils, injury, violence, tell me if I missed any. Note: Okay, so, I will shamefully admit that I haven’t had the time to read or watch the anime despite having the first 8 books at home. I’m just always doing something and leave the TV on for ambient sound, but when I watch anime, I like being able to concentrate on it and I haven’t been able to do that. I do, however, know a little about what I’ve seen in clips and all.

There wasn’t much you could do in this moment —anything human. There was hell to pay and none of which you wanted part of. Sure, they would pay for what they did, but you weren’t interested of dying and possibly loosing all that you’d worked so hard to accomplished as someone seemingly human in both nature and being.You weren’t fond of the though of reincarnating into a different person and winding up in hell, you’d seen the place, it was dreadfully boring and cramped, and you were not excited to wind up there under any circumstances. 

You had worked - somewhat - hard to keep your devilish mannerism under lock and key, wanting to form a relationship with people rather than make them, to force them and control their minds into becoming friends with you. You had gone through so many challenges to keep your past a secret, to separate yourself from it : from your eerie eyes, the striking red spirals over your yellow iris, to the impulsive need to foster fear and control. Manipulation. Be it the higher ups, the lesser men and women, or anything that seemed to bother you, you worked hard to bury the unconscious need to make them fear you. 

Fear worked best for a Devil than respect did. Fear created you, the conception of it had birthed you and the death of it would call your end. Perhaps that’s why you always had the urge for it. 

Though you willed something to happen, you couldn’t exactly fix incompetence in dead men, the contracts you’d seen them made with other of your kind coming to an end because of sheer hubris, thinking they could beat a better equipped army or outplay more experienced people. You could always hide and last long enough for them to move on, but, in your situation, the enemy wanted to use this building. So hiding was out of the question.

You could always use the weapons you were given, the simple handguns often strapped to your sides or your back, but even they would eventually run out before you’d gotten rid of everything. It made you wondered where the million dollar budget the CIA received went; which department did it go to? You weren’t certain of it, but you suspected personal spendings and expenses wired towards the information department. Granted, you depended on it as an agent, but your- the human agents had a high risk job and required better equipment. You knew you should have went with the military, they were less bureaucratic and uptight. 

You figured you’d simply have to alternate between using your gun and… your powers.

Soap had no fucking clue what he’d stumbled into. Laswell had told them all that this was a search and rescue, possibly a retrieval. A group of four agents were sent to collect a hard drive, but all had gone dark, no reply, no command and no call backs. So it only made sense if this was a retrieval mission rather than a rescue. 

They were warned of enemy interference and of the dangers, but not this: a fucking bloodbath. Blood pooled around the corpses of men decked in thick body armour, whatever left of it was splattered on the walls and a few limbs scattered around them. Weapons, goggles, headsets, magazines and even chipped cement littered the ground, making the floor a hazard to walk on. 

It wouldn’t have been such a shock to see, they were used to the bloody mess and the violence that broke arms and necks as much as it did lives, they weren’t a stranger to it, rather frustratingly familiar. It wouldn’t be so eerily strange if it wasn’t for the sole fingered standing over a mass of bodies and shattered bones, listening to the disgusting sound of cracking bones compressing down by an unknown force. 

They were bathed in red, a - what he could assume used to be white - crimson button up shirt and drenched suit and slacks covered whatever skin wasn’t as red as the ground. They held a gun in one hand, pointed down while the other hand was raised towards the squirming body, cracking and bending in unnatural ways. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he cursed lowly, the words hissing through the air, “That’s who were supposed to rescue?” 

Whatever monster - devil - this was, Soap - now - added another thing of CIA agents to fear.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 7 - Trust

You help Mohawk give the crew their annual medical checkups.

WC: ~4k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

Apparently the Kid Pirates took their health more seriously than Yin would have guessed, because during dinner it was decided that tomorrow Yin would start her new job in the infirmary by assisting with annual medical checkups. Apparently Mohawk was adamant that the crew have regular health assessments, though to be honest only the top dogs ever usually made it through more than one annual checkup. Henchmen and cabin boys didn't often survive that long. Regardless, he kept well organized records of everyone currently on the ship, with manila folders containing sheets of information, from medical history to blood types to work he'd done himself. They were all kept in careful alphabetical order in filing cabinets that sat in the infirmary, organized by first name since many of the ship's occupants didn't have a surname.

With the addition of Yin's skills he was determined to add a new sheet of paper to each file, documenting old bone breaks, as well as any current internal issues that he might not have been able to catch without scanning equipment. The crew wasn't due for their annuals for another month or so, but he was excited to test out her abilities, so he'd convinced Kid to bring it forward.

She followed him to the infirmary after breakfast, where he gave her a quick tour of the room before performing her own checkup. He usually liked to do an initial interview when a new crewmate came on board but there hadn't really been the opportunity to do it till now. Anytime she'd been free, he'd been busy.

She gave him the short version of her life, he wasn't shocked to hear how the marines had treated her. They discussed contraceptives for a short while, but in truth he didn't really know much about them, since he was used to working for a crew of only men. She told him she had some sort of implant the commodore had forced on to her, so he made a note to look in to it, but left it be at that. The entire female reproductive system was something he was going to need to study now. He at least didn't need to inquire about her last cycle, or how irregular her period was, since he'd heard from Heat what happened during her initiation. He'd been unsurprised to discover the slave mark burned in to her skin in the middle of her back, it was long healed since it had been probably twenty years since she was branded.

“Any old injuries to note?” He asked, pulling out the new page he'd whipped up yesterday and photocopied a million times. It had a simple outline of a human, duplicated and labeled ‘front’ and ‘back’, with space around the edges so he could make notes and draw arrows to mark notable injuries.

“I broke my left ankle when I was learning to moon step, when I was about fourteen,” she said, tapping her lip with her index finger while she tried to recall past injuries, “oh and I dislocated my right hip when I was eight”

“How'd you do that?” He asked, making quick notes on the page.

“Got raped by a man too big for me,” she said plainly. He paused and put down his pen, letting out a heavy sigh. She seemed indifferent, like she'd just told him she'd fallen from a tree or something. You know, something normal for an eight year old to have done. He didn't pry further, she'd already given him her life story, he didn't need more information.

“I just need to check your eyes and ears and we can start calling the crew in for their checks,” he said, wheeling his stool over to sit in front of her. She was sitting over the side of the examination table. The infirmary wasn't large, but it was big enough for a decent size desk, an examination table, and a couple of more comfortable beds for those who needed a quiet place to recover, or required observation. The walls were lined with cabinets, many of them under lock and key, bookcases containing medical journals, and several tall filing cabinets. The room didn't have any windows, since it was smack in the middle of the building that sat above deck towards the back of the ship, and it smelt heavily of medical grade disinfectant.

“Can you remove your mask for me?” He asked politely, otoscope in hand.

“I can but you have to be quick, did Killer explain how my mask works to you?” She asked.

“He did, you won't be able to hear or see me properly, correct?” He said, “I'll be quick, just look straight ahead and stay still, I'll put your mask back on as soon as I'm done”

“Okay then, I think I trust you,” she slid her mask off and placed it on the bed beside her, sitting as still as she could, “okay, go ahead,” she couldn't make out her own voice, but she hoped she was speaking.

He gasped as he looked at her eyes and saw the grey-pink, no whites or iris or discernable pupil visible on them. He pushed it aside for now, he had to check her ears first. He moved quickly, knowing that every second he took was another second for her to become overwhelmed. Killer had warned that in the past she'd been known to become feral when she was without her mask, and he didn't feel like getting bitten today.

Her ears looked healthy, so he swapped his otoscope for his ophthalmoscope, rolling his stool to be directly in front of her and gently pulling her eyelids away to see more of her eyeballs. It was useless, he couldn't make out anything remotely human on her eyes other than the shape - whatever was going on with them was outside of his skillset. He sighed and gave up, putting the tool down and picking her mask up to slide carefully over her head. She felt it starting to touch her, so she quickly took over and shimmied it into its usual comfortable position.

“All done?” She asked.

“All done, thanks for not biting me,” he half laughed as he scribbled notes in her chart.

“I only do that to men who ask nicely,” he assumed she winked after that but he couldn't tell past the visor.

“Right,” he tried to brush it off, he wasn't one who was comfortable or who knew how to react to open flirting, “so, with the others. I'll do all my usual examinations, and when I'm done I'll have you scan them. I want to hear about any current or old injuries, and any abnormalities you see. I've never had access to scanning equipment so it'll be mostly new information for me.”

“Okay, can do doc!” She replied, moving from the exam table to the desk, sitting on the edge and kicking her feet.

“One last thing,” Mohawk said as he stood to go find his first patient. Most of the crew thought medical checks were for pussies and would no doubt be unwilling victims, “everything in this room comes under doctor-patient confidentiality okay? You're my nurse now, everything you hear is to be kept private. And keep it professional, you may be surprised how many of these men have STIs. If I hear a single laugh while I'm looking at someone's dick I'll have Killer drown you, got it?”

“Genitals don't phase me, most of the showers in the marines were mixed gender,” she shrugged, “you may be surprised to hear how many dicks I've come face first with to check for UTIs”

“Okay, good, we should have no issues then,” he said, “get off the desk, it's not professional. Sit in my chair till I need your assistance. I'll be mostly on the stool anyway”

“Roger that, doc,” she gave a mock salute and slid off the desk as he left.

Yin really was surprised at how many henchmen had STIs, and by the time they were done she was sure she could recite Mohawk's safe sex spiel of the top of her head, word for word. A few henchmen had been suffering in silence with bad constipation, and one had a badly broken toe. The cabin boys were all relatively healthy, but Mohawk gave them all the safe sex talk anyway, since it wouldn't be long before they started getting curious about the women, and he desperately hoped he could keep them from turning in to disease-ridden henchmen. Some of them were already partaking, but had been lucky enough to not catch anything.

It was well in to the afternoon when they got to the officers and commanders. The officers were all healthy, being that they'd been on the ship long enough to have regular checkups and knew well to follow Mohawk's advice. Yin had to stand on the examination table to check Wire's head, since he was just so damn tall.

She was surprised to find during Heat's examination that he actually had several hidden piercings that she could see through his clothes while she scanned him. She didn't ask why his dick was pierced, it didn't seem like an appropriate medical question. Kid wasn't happy about being examined, and complained the whole time that he was too busy for this shit. Mohawk gave him a long, stern talking to about drinking less beer and more water, if he didn't want a repeat of yesterday. She hadn't realised that the metal arm didn't have a real arm inside, she'd just assumed it was some sort of cover. She bit back a gasp when he removed it so Mohawk could check the stump of what used to be an arm. The base had metal embedded in to it, assumedly to help the prosthetic stick. She did her best to not gawk.

Last up was Killer, who they had to wait quite long for since he had been busy with some new recipe he had wanted to try that required being cooked slowly for many hours. He smelled of freshly cut herbs and bread when he entered, mixed with his usual scent of musk and spices. He locked the door as he entered, and Yin came to the jarring realisation that he was probably going to need to remove his mask. Mohawk went through his usual line of questioning before standing in front of Killer, he was too tall to examine from the stool. He did the same flexibility and grip strength tests he'd done for everyone else, and tapped his knees with a little hammer to check reaction times, before picking up his otoscope and turning to Yin expectantly.

“Right, sorry,” she said, turning and facing the wall. She heard something click and hair rustling as Killer removed his mask. “Hey um.. should I examine his head while the mask is off? I can't see his face if I'm scanning him, I promise”

“My head is fine,” Killer said flatly.

“I'm making notes of old injuries as well though, its important for my records,” Mohawk explained, “she's fast, it'll only take her a moment to check your head if nothing is wrong”

“Fine,” he sighed, “as long as she can't see”

“If my visor is dark green or red, I can't see you, just your insides,” she said, “to be honest I can only make out faces when its purple or like a neon green”

“Neon green is what you had when you killed the seaking right?” Killer asked, “is that some sort of night vision?”

“Yeah,” she explained, still awkwardly facing the wall, “and I can see pretty deep in the water as well, thats how I saw the seaking. I'm gonna turn around now, okay? I'll only be able to see your bones”

“Okay,” he replied. Mohawk finished checking Killer's eyes and stepped aside for her. She couldn't see well, but she'd spent all day in the room so she knew there was no furniture between them, and she could see their skeletons, the metal base of the examination bed, and Killer's mask sitting on the bed bedside him. She used what she could see as a guide to carefully make her way over, but she couldn't see the floor so her steps were awkward and she tripped.

“Woah, careful,” Mohawk said as he caught her, “what's wrong with you?”

“Can't see the floor,” she laughed, “I can only really see your bones and the metal things in the room, like Killer's mask and the base of the bed. Hard to walk without a floor”

She righted herself and stood carefully in front of Killer, who was definitely too tall. “You're too big, I'm gonna need to get on the table,” she climbed up on the side of him that didn't hold his mask, thankful that the base was metal and the mattress was thin so she could even see what she was doing. In her mind she was adding thickness to all the things she could see to account for what she couldn't.

“Ah- my hair-” Killer growled and pulled away, she'd unknowingly knelt on his long blond locks that had been resting against the bed.

“Fuck, sorry Kil,” she said, kneeling behind him, “I couldn't see it”

“It's fine, just get it over with,” he muttered, pulling his hair over his shoulder to the front so she couldn't catch it again.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” She asked as professionally as she could, “I need to turn your head”

“That's fine,” he replied.

She put her hands gently on either side of his head, carefully turning it and moving her hands around as she examined. It felt like he had thick bangs over his forehead, which definitely surprised her.

“Fuck you have a lot of old fractures for someone who wears a helmet,” she noted, “I can see… seven, Mohawk, if you want to note that down”

“Got it,” he replied, scribbling in his notes.

She turned Killer's face to look at her, her thumbs tracing his cheeks as she inspected them. She didn't even realise how intimate she was being, it was a natural process for her. His jawline seemed strong and his cheekbones looked prominent, if she had to guess she'd say he must have a sharp, attractive face. It looked symmetrical at the bone level, but who knows what kind of scars or deformities he might have on top that caused him to wear a mask.

“Old fracture on the left cheek as well,” she said, “I'd bet good money Kid did that”

“It'd be a winning bet,” he replied, suppressing a smile. Mohawk was busy with his notes, and she couldn't actually see his face, but he felt exposed anyway, and he didn't want anyone to see his ugly smile - the real reason he wore a mask.

“I'm gonna switch to red now okay?” She said, removing one of her hands from his face to fiddle with her mask. The visor turned red and her hand returned to his face, “Nothing of note on the front, eyes look healthy, frontal lobe looks fine,” she turned his head and made her way around, checking the side, then the back, then the other side. She paused, holding his head firmly in place. “Mohawk?”

“Mmm?” He looked up from his notes.

“There's something here, on the outside, towards the base of the neck,” she said, running her hand through Killer's hair and pulling it gently aside to clear the area she wanted Mohawk to check, “right here,” she pointed as she saw the bag of organs and veins that formed Mohawk stand beside the bed.

“It looks like a small cyst,” he said, prodding it with a gloved hand, “Killer I thought I told you to let me know if your mask did shit like this, it looks like it's about where the edge would rub”

“It's nothing,” he pulled Yin's hand out of his hair, entirely ignoring how nice her delicate hands felt woven through his locks, “I was just gonna deal with it myself”

Mohawk sighed and returned to his desk, “you're staying when she's done checking you over, so I can deal with that. It needs draining”

“I have shit to do,” Killer grumbled.

“Will you stop being a baby and let him do his job?” Yin scowled as she slid off the bed carefully, “now stand up so I can finish the scan, you can put your mask back on but I still have to check the rest of you”

He sighed and put his mask back in place before unwillingly standing, she tugged his arm to pull him further from the bed so she could walk all the way around him and quickly went about her scan, checking his bones first, then switching back to the red mode. She lifted his left arm as she checked his side.

“Your heart is beating a little fast Kil, you okay?” She noted.

“His heart rate was fine before,” Mohawk mused, quirking an eyebrow at Killer, who scowled under his mask at the clear insinuation.

“I'm just pissed off, now hurry the fuck up and quit touching me,” he growled.

“Anddd mister grumpymask is back,” she smiled, “relax, I'm done. He's all clear, doc, fit as a fiddle”

“Good, thats everyone then,” Mohawk said as he made a few last notes and stood to start collecting the supplies he needed for Killer's cyst, “you can go, Yin, thank you for your help. It won't always be this much work, I promise”

“Its fine,” she replied, unlocking the door to leave, “this was fun, I was happy to help. See you two at dinner,” she sung as she left. Mohawk gave her a weak goodbye, and Killer remained quiet.

Dinner wasn't far off, in fact by the time Mohawk was done with Killer it was time to head to the dining hall. Everyone else was already there, and Killer quickly finished off the special recipe of slow cooked beef and beer stew that he'd been working on earlier, with several fresh loaves of sourdough he'd made earlier to go with it.

“Anything of importance to report from the annuals?” Kid asked Mohawk as he dipped his bread in the hearty stew.

“Just that your henchmen need to keep it in their pants if they can't learn to use a rubber,” Mohawk sighed.

“The usual then,” Kid laughed, “dirty cunts”

“Oi, Yin,” Wire interjected, “I've got a question for you”

“Hit me,” she replied with a smile, inhaling another mouthful of the delicious stew - Killer's cooking really was the best she'd ever had.

“How did you know anything about us or our reputation if you've been locked away for the last five years?” He asked in a serious tone. It felt like an integration, like he was about to crack open that everything she'd told them was a lie, “you knew who Heat and I were, you knew the Captain and Killer, you said you knew you'd fit in here. But you've been in a cell for the last five years, and we only got our first bounties a few years ago”

Eveyone else turned and stared at her, and Kid stopped eating entirely, mulling it over in his head and coming to the same realisation Wire had, that the dots didn't connect. “How did you know about us?” Kid was almost growling, it felt like a threat.

She sighed and put down her spoon, looking across the table at Killer's expressionless mask, like he could offer some sort of support. “You really want to know? You're not gonna like the answer”

“Answer the fucking question,” Kid said sternly, grinding his teeth.

“Okay, fuck, don't bite my fucking head off. I'd been with the commodore you found me with for most of my imprisonment, and I guess you could say he was a fan of yours,” she explained, careful to speak to Kid directly, so as not to incur any further wrath from him, “when you came on to the grandline he started getting a bit obsessed. Every time he came to… visit me… he would tell me about your crew, and the big promotion he was gonna get when he took you down. Which is ironic, in hindsight. Anyway at some point he started bringing in your bounty posters, the four of you, mostly Kid's, and he'd use them against me if I wasn't obediently letting him have his way with me. He'd say shit like ‘you're so lucky you have me here to protect you and make you feel so good’ and then he'd wave Kid's poster in my face and say ‘this cunt would rip your legs off just so he could fuck the bloody holes left behind, he'd rape you to death and then he'd keep going. His whole crew would rape your dead body till you were nothing but a pile of rotting bones’. Sometimes he'd leave the posters in the cell with me, to remind me of my place, so I got familiar with your faces. Of course I never believed that shit, it wasn't hard for me to see that the marines are the bad people in this world, I've seen pirates as the good guys for a long time now. The second Kid let me go the day you found me, I knew I was right and the commodore was full of shit. Not that I think there aren't pirates that rape, I just knew for sure that you guys didn't. Anyway, yeah. That's how.”

Kid was visibly angry, not at her but at the commodore, as he tore a huge chunk of bread from an untouched loaf and dipped it with a little too much force in to his stew, making liquid spill out around the edges of the bowl, “Fucker…” he said through a full mouth.

“I did say you wouldn't like it,” she grumbled, looking mournfully at her stew. She no longer had any appetite but forced herself to keep eating anyway. She didn't want to offend Killer by not finishing the food he'd made them.

“Sorry,” Wire said solemnly, “I shouldn't have pried”

“It's okay Wire,” she forced a smile for him, “I get it. I'm a stranger, you don't trust me, and things didn't add up. You were just protecting the crew. I hope you'll come to trust me, in time, like I'm trying my best to learn to trust all of you”

“Trust is hard earned,” Killer added plainly.

“You think I don't know that?” She almost yelled in clear annoyance. Heat spooked a little as she slammed a closed fist on the table, “You think its easy for me to be sitting here on a ship full of men when every man who has every touched me has raped me? You think I don't know how hard it is to learn to trust someone? Cut me some fucking slack, Killer”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I'm not very hungry anymore,” she said, frustrated and angry. She felt like she was being treated like the enemy, and she'd done nothing to deserve it. She'd been working hard every day to earn their trust, and she felt brushed off. “Sorry, the food was delicious Killer, I'm just… not hungry anymore”

“Leave the bowl, I'll finish it,” Kid told her. He grabbed her hand before she left, “you'll have our trust, Killer's is just a little harder to earn. You're doing good work here, just give it time. I hope I can earn your trust as well, as your Captain”

“Thanks, Kid,” she sighed as he let her hand go. She didn't say anything more, and they watched as she quickly disappeared out of the galley and the doors swung shut behind her.

[NEXT CHAPTER]