#hunger and worry and distrust are all human things

[ame-emberlea]

some odysseus & eurylochus thoughts. I love their dynamic but the fandom angers me sometimes.

(making it clear, I'm talking about some haters, not all, some of you actually make good points)

edit: it's 2am and i've had more thoughts so i word-vomited them all out in the tags

[wintersongstress]

18+ Simon Ghost Riley x Female Reader

❧

I've been thinking about Simon's trauma. How he was sexually assaulted as well as tortured, and realistically how that's made him cut off lust and romance because he can't imagine being with anyone and it feeling good, or the act not being a ploy just to get him vulnerable and defenseless. He never talks about it, and figures that as an SAS man his entire life is the job, there's no room for things outside of it, no point to making commitments and plans and promises. He's closed off. He won't meet anyone anyway—but he feels alone. Even in a room full of people, even on an op when his head is absorbed in his objective, he has no one to keep his heart company—that thing in his chest he tells himself is dead like the rest of him. But it persists. After seeing and experiencing all the ugliness of what humans can do to each other, the part of him that yearns for a love he's never felt but only dreamed of still exists.

He'll be in the pub with his mates, and Soap will nudge his ribs when a group of pretty birds are stealing glances at his mysterious, bulky presence. And he drinks on from his rocks glass, ice clinking as alcohol singes his throat on the way down.

"You could charm any of those lasses, L.T. Why don't you?" He asks.

Simon pauses. The thought never occurred to him. Then the truth dawns clearly. He doesn't want to charm just any girl. He wants only one girl, and he doesn't think she exists.

He wants a woman who teaches him things, changes his view of the world, and challenges his way of thinking. He wants a woman that makes his heart flutter, makes him feel scared and safe, makes him grow into a better man. Surely, he wouldn't find that in anyone. Surely, no woman would have the patience for his caution and restraint and distrust. Surely, she couldn't be real.

But you are.

And imagine the fear in Simon when he discovers it, the exhilaration when you first meet. His head spins so fast at the possibilities of a relationship with you he has to rein himself in, not go spilling and projecting his desires unto you. But he doesnt have to worry. You fit the half of his heart so perfectly, sliding home, into place, seamlessly. And he keeps you there. The scarred edges close over and heal. He can't believe how quickly he perserves over his trauma to be with you in every way possible. Hands touching, arms holding, lips brushing. Simon wants it all. There is no dread in him. And the first time you are together in that scary, momentous way...God he'd be in pieces he'd only trust you with.

Simon knows your skin, your touch, your warmth, but most of all, your soul. There is no taint to this act. It's beyond some crude, sweaty, disconnection of the mind in the race for sharp pleasure. His body belongs to himself again, his mind free of the recoil, the repulsion, the painful memory towards his body being shared with another. He is just a man when you are lying beneath him, looking up with your gorgeous eyes, your parted lips, your hair strewn about, trusting him; and his heart is free. The chain breaks, the bars of his prison slide free, and he is kissing you. A dead man, made alive again.

Simon kisses with a passion, a hunger, a sweet relief and an eagerness to learn all the soft ways your lips could join. He loves your thighs, your hips, your breasts all beneath his roaming hands, feeling all of you, the sigh of his name at the first swiping touch of his thumb across your core. When he brushes through the warmth gathering for him, just once, his brows furrow and the brass fan of his lashes flutter as if disentangling from a dream.

"Oh love, love, love," he'll begin, because he doesn't deserve this, but he's so beyond denying himself when he wants a thousand memories of you looking at him like this. "Love you," he finishes, unbidden, and its all he can think as you guide him into the hearth of you, a serene smile upon your face and a hand on the back of his neck as the softness of your thighs envelop his hips. You were the only woman he wanted, the first one truly, and he would give all he is to keep you. With you, the pain lays forgotten.

❧

[avatar-saiki]

Beel's Takeout - Pt. 3

Beelzebub/reader, 4.2k words

Summary: Beelzebub just can't stop thinking about how good you taste. Switched to reader's POV for some plot building

Read Beel's Takeout:

Part 1

Part 2

The days came and went and it was almost spooky how easily you slipped into the same routines as always given how nosy and watchful the demon brothers seemed to be whenever you were concerned. It wasn’t as hostile as it had been when you’d first arrived, but you could still see some glimmers of distrust in Levi’s eyes or gleams of opportunity in Mammon’s now and then, and you weren’t foolish enough to believe that all of Asmo’s flattery was sincere.

But even so, you’d wanted to avoid causing too much tension when… certain desires had begun to stir. And with how forward Asmo could be; was it any wonder you’d want to explore some… shall we say beneficial friendships with the devious demons you had the privilege of living with for the foreseeable future?

Especially after, for the most part and all things considered, the demons didn’t seem as threatening or deadly as you or even they themselves had once believed. 

Well.

There were a few instances that still sent chills through your blood, reminding you of just how mortal you truly were. Moments that, for all his fretting and worry, didn’t seem to come from Beel as often as it had with the others as you’d gotten to know them. Sure, he was big, intimidating, and the way he could eat whole carcasses of roasted beasts only to ask for seconds, thirds, even fourths could make your mind wander and wonder just how many humans had fallen prey to his hunger but on the other hand he was so sweet and docile it was hard to imagine he’d ever so much as spooked a human let alone taken their soul.

He’d been so wary around you, especially when you’d first arrived, speaking candidly about the scent of your soul wafting off your skin and how it made him salivate. Hearing how he hungered for your soul, even needing to snack more frequently to fill his belly with something to avoid it being you should’ve encouraged you to keep your distance, but instead it only made you all the more curious.

After all, what demon would go to such great lengths to avoid preying on their prey?

Sometimes you’d wonder if you were being cruel following him around, but in some wordless form of solidarity you only ever really approached him when he was eating something to try and… help him remain distracted with those urges. Meeting up with him during lunch in the cafeteria, or lingering at dinner while the rest of the brothers tapped out for the evening and left Beel to clear the table.

But then… you began to encounter each other outside of meals. Shared classes were fun, but he wasn’t the best potions partner and you’d worried about the consequences of failing while in this place. Was the worst case being sent home or becoming the next ingredient? Not exactly something you’d like to find out.

It still hurt to see the knowing look of disappointment in his eyes when you’d declined to be his partner in the next project.

The moment you saw it, you knew it was something you didn’t want to see again.

But he’d never given you the opportunity after that.

Instead, he invited you to see him play Fangol. Maybe he wanted to help Mammon watch over you, or noticed the guilt in your eyes (or smelled it on your soul?), you couldn’t say but the first game you witnessed was when those first feelings began.

Sports had never really been your strength, something fun to do when you were younger maybe but not enough to take seriously or put your body through so much effort to build muscle. Then, if you weren’t an avid player, why would you bother watching?

You’d never had a friend to root for before.

Someone to watch while they raced down the field.

Holding your breath as they sprinted full speed with the rival team close at their heels, just out of reach of a tackle with the goal line inching closer and closer in sight.

Someone to jump to your feet and cheer for ecstatically when they’d made it only to look up at the stands and meet your eyes, holding the ball triumphantly in the air with the biggest, happiest grin you’d ever seen.

Yeah.

It had to be around then.

Those moments.

With sweat running down his back, making his jersey cling to his thick, muscular frame, violet eyes alive with adrenaline and drive, eager to do it all over again.

Those moments when you’d first began to fantasize….

First began to be a little more forward.

A little more flirtatious.

A little more curious and exploratory.

Sometimes he’d play coy, or maybe he was entirely naive, but every once in a while he’d reciprocate. Mention something about the way you looked today, or how your scent had become something comforting to him. Something he’d looked forward to…

…so why, after that night, was he starting to withdraw from you?

It wasn’t anything too obvious, at least not to his brothers. He’d always been emotionally neutral in larger crowds, but you could feel him pulling away. Whenever you two might be in the same room alone together, he’d remember something or mutter something about needing a snack and disappear. Even hanging around the kitchen proved to be fruitless, so he must’ve started hiding food in his room too.

To… avoid seeing you?

It was the only reason you could think of, and after the fourth dinner where he’d left the table before everything was cleared, you had your answer.

Maybe he regretted what had happened. Was he embarrassed? Or could it have something to do with you?

Stupid. You almost had to laugh at yourself for adding an extra layer of insecurity while living among demons of all things. How many stories had you heard from Solomon of lifetimes long ago with demons punishing sorcerers for poorly worded spells and contracts? Even if he’d laugh it off shortly after and say it ‘was a long time ago’ and ‘humans are much wiser in their manipulation of mana, giving them more of an equal footing at the negotiation table’ and whatever other nonsense he’d ramble about.

Yet here you were, lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, wondering if you’d turned one of your closest friends away because you’d wanted to get a little freaky.

“This is what I get for being thirsty,” you muttered under your breath as you crossed your arms over your eyes with a sigh. Should’ve just let the urges pass, or paid more attention to demonic anatomy and the effects of a demon’s allure on the human mind. For all his rambling, Solomon never had an answer for why all the demons were ridiculously overpowered and super sexy other than ‘well because it makes it easier to seduce and capture their prey’.

Entirely unfair.

What were you even supposed to do now? Would he tell Lucifer? Belphegor? Ugh, would he even look at you again or did you just make everything stupidly awkward for no damn reason at all?

“Thirsty, huh?”

You froze, worries vanishing in an instant as your blood ran cold.

Surely that had to be your imagination. There was no way he’d actually be here.

You slowly lowered your arms, heart freezing in your chest when your eyes met with two violets glowing cold in the low light.

“What do you mean by that?” Belphegor asked with a slight tilt of his head, eyes never leaving yours.

Yeah, you definitely should’ve let those thoughts stay intrusive.

Your throat dried the moment you swallowed, staring up at him speechlessly. He was perched on the headboard of your bed, somehow weightless and balanced but his presence was so heavy he may as well have been sitting on your chest.

He chuckled softly as if reading your thoughts as he loomed closer. “I know you’re awake,” he said, “tell me what you meant. Why is it your fault for being thirsty?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, then blinked and tried to laugh it off. “O-oh… just uh… dry mouth,” you mumbled. “Dehydrated. Tired.”

His gaze remained unwavering as if he might be reading your thoughts again, but… he couldn’t do that, right?

Or was that just another way demons were stupidly overpowered?

“I see,” he said quietly. “You should drink more water then, humans require a lot of it.”

“Y-Yeah…” you mumbled weakly, trying to keep calm. Ever since that night the two of you had more or less avoided each other. Maybe you should’ve been more cautious or told Lord Diavolo you’d wanted different living arrangements, but you were nothing if not a pushover to keep the peace.

And you’d hate to see the brothers all turn on each other over a human…

Fuck, maybe you really shouldn’t have messed around with Beel. 

The edge of his smile quirked up and he leaned forward to rest his hands at either side of you over the covers, more or less pinning you in place.

“Beelzebub would be upset if you collapsed from malnutrition,” he said smoothly, grinning all the more when your breath stilled and his horns began to extend from his crown. “You don’t want to upset him now, do you?”

You sucked in a breath, but didn’t trust yourself to speak and merely shook your head. He didn’t want that either, right? You still had pacts with Mammon and Beel… could one of them get here fast enough?

His grin widened and memories flickered by.

No.

No they wouldn’t.

“Good,” he murmured, looking down at your face and releasing you from his direct gaze to adopt a more pensive expression. “You at least have some sense.”

“Thanks…?” 

He smirked again. “He’s been acting… strange the last few days. Do you know why?”

So quickly that tentative flicker of hope wavered.

“N-not really, no,” you lied.

“Mm…” he hummed to himself. “Maybe not enough to keep yourself alive…”

“What?”

His eyes flicked to yours again with a brief glimmer of disgust.

“I’m sure I don’t have to get too specific, but if you’re a threat to Beel, I will remove you.”

You shivered again and swallowed reflexively, feeling the ghost’s grip firm around your neck.

“I know,” you whispered, and he smiled again.

“Enough sense to survive,” he mused, leaning back. “You really don’t know why he’s acting strange?”

You shook your head. “No… but if I did something, would you tell him I’m sorry? Or…” you trailed off when his amusement faded. “Never mind. I’ll uh, try to be more careful?”

“See that you are,” he said, hopping off the headboard and disappearing from your view without a sound. “Or I’ll visit you again. I’m sure you’d prefer to avoid that.”

You wheezed out a soft laugh, too afraid to agree aloud but the soft shut of your door brought such a wave of relief you could feel the tears pricking in your eyes. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” you said, throwing off the covers and checking under your bed, then the closet, and finally opening the door to peer down the hall to make sure he truly had gone.

“Why the hell didn’t they ever give me a lock on this stupid door?” you muttered under your breath, shutting it tight. Would it be obnoxious to barricade it?

Wait, never mind demons could just punch through brick walls like they were paper.

You sighed and paced about your room, trying to calm your nerves. Belphegor wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t one to bluff needlessly either. So something had to be wrong with Beel. Maybe he was sick? Maybe it had nothing to do with you at all.

Maybe…

Maybe you were overthinking it all. After all, with all manner of unimaginable powers and manipulations, what could one dumb human do to a demon really?

Yeah.

Yeah!

You laughed away your shaking legs, crawling back into bed. 

Don’t be stupid. You were just a run of the mill human, nothing more than a footnote in their lives. Soon to be forgotten once this exchange program came to an end. You pulled the covers up over your head, silently banishing all the thoughts that teased in the edges of your mind of what that end could possibly mean until you finally, fitfully, fell asleep.

It didn’t take long for the covers to feel restrictive once more, the mattress sinking at either side from some unseen weight. Not just with hands, no, this time…

“I swear I didn’t do—”

You tried to roll onto your back, but the covers kept you pinned so you could do little more than turn your head. Once more you were met with violet eyes glowing in the low light. Maybe you should’ve told Diavolo you wanted to sleep somewhere else. What in your head made you think it’d be safe to—

“I’m so… hungry.”

Relief came swift and you breathed out the racing of your heart. “O-Oh… it’s you, Beel. You scared me.”

A subtle buzz of an insect’s wings told you he wasn’t concealing his demon form before your eyes adjusted to see the horns adorning his crown, eyes glowing low with a slight tinge of red. He’d seemed distracted, but met your gaze.

“I… did?” he murmured softly with another low buzz at his back. 

“Well… yeah, a little,” you said with a lighthearted grin, trying to roll over again but he was straddled on all fours around you and the blanket held you firmly in place. “Um, it’s not bad though, just surprising. I don’t usually get visitors so late.” 

A lie, but it didn’t take a genius to guess Belphegor would prefer you keep your chat between the two of you.

“Oh,” he moved to sit up on his knees, freeing you to roll onto your back while he looked around the room. “It is late, isn’t it? Did I wake you?”

“It’s fine,” You said with a smile, sitting up on your elbows and scooting out from under him. “Are you okay? Did you need help making a snack?”

You might not be a pro in the kitchen, but at least you could finish cooking something without the ingredients miraculously disappearing throughout the process. Was it stupid to find that sort of endearing in Beelzebub? His confusion and disappointment at never being able to quite hold back from snacking throughout was rather sweet, especially since he tried so hard to manage his gluttony.

Especially when it came to you. If demons were accustomed to consuming humans, you would’ve figured he’d be the most dangerous but he’d always—

“A snack…” he repeated as if listening to you from a distance. A low growl rumbled in his belly and you couldn’t help the smile.

“I could—”

The words left you in a startled huff, strong hands pinned at your shoulders with red violet eyes staring down.

“Not… hungry,” he murmured, wings kicking up in a low buzz. “Starving.”

“I could make some hell popcorn?” you offered, “Or maybe—”

Warmth dripped onto your neck and you froze, looking up to see that those eyes… weren’t seeing you. No, they were seeing…

“B...Beel?”

He blinked, the red glow in his eyes fading ever so slight as he swallowed, still keeping his hands firm on your shoulders.

“I… can’t…” He bowed his head. “I can’t… stop… wanting…”

Another audible growl rumbled between you, and you hardly dared breathe.

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit fuck.

He wasn’t…

He wouldn’t.

Would he?

“Beelzebub?” you reached up to touch his arm. “Are you… okay?”

His grip tightened around your shoulders and he breathed in through his mouth. 

“I was never allowed to go to the human world,” he said softly, “Not after… not alone…”

Just stay calm. If there was anything useful coming out of Solomon’s mouth it was that small piece of advice. 

Stay calm.

Remember your pacts.

Keep a clear head.

“Humans are tempting to you, aren’t they?” You said, reaching up to hold his other arm as well, gently caressing to soothe and ground him. “Is it our souls that taste good?”

He nodded, “Belphie used to feed me… before… but it’s been so long since I…” Another buzz sent a shiver running down your arms at the breeze, and he finally looked at you. 

“Are you… afraid?”

“A little,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “You are holding me down.”

Hurt flashed across his face. “I can’t let go.”

“Are you afraid to?”

Another nod.

You bit your lip.

“Do you want to hurt me, Beelzebub?”

A brief pause.

Then a small shake of his head.

You closed your eyes and tried to feign a confidence you didn’t feel. “Good, I trust you.”

“You do?”

Okay, now how did he manage to make you feel guilty for that? The surprised sincerity in his voice…

“I do,” you said, keeping your voice as level as could be while you rubbed up his arms. “You’re my friend, right?”

His hesitation made you open your eyes again, but he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

Something about his expression made you wonder…

“Do you… want to eat me, Beel?”

He flinched and his grip tightened around your shoulders.

Then he nodded ever so slight.

“But if you do that, we won’t be able to spend time together anymore.”

“… I know.”

He still wouldn’t meet your gaze, but somehow, most likely foolishly, you still wanted to trust him.

To believe in him.

“Don’t you want to spend more time together?”

“I…” 

His eyes flicked up to yours, giving you the briefest glimmer of hope.

“I… I want…”

You smiled, squeezing his arms gently to encourage him.

But so quickly those soft violets turned red.

“I’m so…”

“B-Beel… you’re hurting me—”

A low, hungry growl filled the space between you, making your heart freeze at the sight of the demon looming over your head. Sharp fangs flashed into view, insect wings spreading as another growl resonated, this time from his throat.

“Be—”

Your breath hitched, muscles tensing and fear freezing the blood in your veins as a thick, hot lick dragged across your throat. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. 

Only let out a pathetic whimper as those fangs grazed over such delicate skin.

He’s going to eat me.

Tears prickled in your eyes, and you dug your nails into his arms. There was no hope. No chance you could fight him off, let alone do anything to him that he’d even notice.

Beelzebub.

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing in a shaky breath.

“P-Please… don’t—”

A low, dissatisfied growl answered you and a few tears ran across your temple, seeping into your hair.

But.

The weight above you shifted.

Grip loosened.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, so heady and high it almost felt as if it was pounding in your head. He didn’t seem to be making any moves, didn’t dare make a sound. But you weren’t exactly eager to look into the eyes of Gluttony again.

“It… tasted different.”

You choked back a soft cry, trying to swallow it down. There it was again. That strange innocence in his voice.

His hands finally left your shoulders, and the weight lifted only to focus more around your legs.

“I… I don’t like it,” he murmured even softer, almost… tender.

You chanced a small peek at him to find him kneeling back and looking at the small indents you’d left on his arms.

He traced his finger around a few of them, brows furrowed in thought.

“Your soul was sweeter… that’s what I wanted… not bitter….”

You breathed out slowly and took a chance to sit up and scoot back on your elbows, little by little working your way out from under him. If you could just scoot enough, you could—

His eyes focused on you again and you froze.

“Why don’t you taste the same?”

Still red, but with a kiss of violet.

Your heart squeezed in your chest and you let out a broken laugh. Gods be damned, you were stupid.

“Wh-What? I don’t know what you mean… I showered before bed.” 

He tilted his head slightly, then shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t make it different. Not like that.”

You managed to scoot back far enough to lean against the headboard and tucked your knees up to your chest. Another stupid thought, but a small barrier brought some comfort. Should you use your pact with him now? Order him away?

You chewed your lip.

That would hurt him.

And make Belphegor mad.

But mostly hurt him.

And you really didn’t want to do that.

Idiot.

He looked down at his hands again, wings fluttering briefly in thought. “I wanted more of before, when your soul tasted spiced and sweet.”

“When my…” You furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know what you mean, Beel.”

“At the hotel,” he said, placing his hands on the bed and lowering down to lean in close, meeting your eyes.

Mostly violet with a tinge of red.

“Your soul was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted,” he said, “and I can’t get the taste out of my head. I need more of it.”

“More of…” 

Your face warmed and you tried to lean back, but there was nowhere left to go.

“O-Oh… you mean when we…?”

He nodded eagerly, the gentleness in his mannerisms returning so quickly. 

Was Solomon right in how unnaturally demons could alter their behavior to gain trust, or was he truly sincere?

You bit your lip, remembering how careful he had been then… so gentle… so timid….

“You can taste my soul?” you whispered, and he nodded again.

“When Belphie gives me souls, I taste very little, but with you…” He furrowed his brows. “Maybe because your soul is still in your body…”

You forced a laugh and hugged your legs to your chest. ��Sorry, but this kind of talk isn’t exactly making me feel good right now.”

“It isn’t?” That time you almost laughed for real at his genuine surprise. But instead, looking into his eyes almost felt….

He leaned back and sat on his heels. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No, no!” You said instinctively, sitting up straighter. “It’s not that, I just…”

But his expression said it all.

“You thought I was going to hurt you.”

“I…” 

Well.

Yeah.

Obviously.

You bit your lip and rested your chin on your knees.

“Maybe a little.”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes scanning yours before he lifted his hands again and turned over his arms, frowning again when he saw your marks.

“Maybe a little,” he repeated to himself, face contorting as if sick. “Maybe you should be. Maybe more.”

“But you didn’t want to, right?” You asked, unsure if you were trying to comfort him or reassure yourself. “You stopped because I was scared, didn’t you?”

He didn’t answer, or rather, didn’t seem to be listening. 

“I should tell Lucifer,” he said finally, getting up off the bed.

Lucifer?

Embarrassment rushed to your face and you turned. “No! Wait don’t do that!”

“I have to,” he said, covering your scratches with one of his hands and holding his arm to his chest. “You’re not safe. I hurt you.”

“But I hurt you too,” you insisted, gesturing to his arms. Please anything but telling Lucifer. You did not want that awkward conversation, especially since it’d probably mean you’d have to talk to Diavolo too.

And you were pretty damn sure there was no way that conversation wouldn’t be awkward as fuck.

“That’s not the same,” he said with a shake of his head, still holding his arm close while he walked to the door. “Please sleep, I promise I won’t be a danger to you anymore.”

Huh?

“Beelzebub, wait!” You moved to stand up, but he was ignoring you again.

Just as he’d reached for the door, you let out an exasperated. 

“Dammit, Beel, I said stay!”

Invoking the pact with such force made his body lock in place, caught frozen mid-step with his hand reaching for the door. He tried to turn his head and just managed to look at you through the corner of his eye.

“Wh… why are you… I have to leave, it isn’t safe for me to stay.”

“Yeah, but I can almost guarantee whatever you’re thinking of doing right now is the wrong thing,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. Belphegor would surely lose his shit if Beel was punished and be more than happy to blame you for it.

And you sure as shit were not about to give him an opportunity to retaliate.

“But, I—”

You shook your head and pointed at the bed. “Come over here and sit. You and me are going to figure this out, and if we can’t I will go get Lucifer, got it?”

He hesitated, and somehow that bolstered your confidence.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Slowly, he shook his head and turned, obeying your order and taking a seat at the edge of your bed while you stood in front of him with arms crossed.

“Okay,” you said, standing over the Avatar of Gluttony.

“Now explain to me what you mean by wanting to eat my soul.”

[wilddwcrds]

Name: Michael Rose

Age & Birthday: 57 years old, July 27th 1966

Gender/Pronouns: cis man he/him

Birthplace: NYC

Time in Hollow Cove: 1 month (September 2023)

Species: Werewolf / Rose Pack Alpha

Role in Hollow Cove: Builder*, Runner

Positive personality traits: Determined, Strong-Willed, Private, Thorough

Negative personality traits: Vindictive, Extreme, Aloof, Greedy

ABOUT

Michael was born and raised in NYC to the Rose pack, eventually becoming the Alpha when he was in his 30s and already a father to Dominic and Roxanna. After his divorce with their mother when the children were young, she and Michael engaged in a messy custody battle which brought out the typical Rose trait of greed and power-hunger. He pulled all the strings he could behind the scenes and won full custody over the children, removing their mother from the pack and sending her on her way. Michael did all of this with ease because it was precisely how he was raised and precisely how the Rose pack managed not only their private affairs, but business too. He believed strongly that the pack was where his children belonged and raised both of them to be just as ruthless as he is.

Michael lead the Rose pack with a firm hand and there was no fairness to be found anywhere. One step out of line was met with harsh consequences and it didn't matter if you were a valued member of the pack, or Michael's actual blood. He was a stern Alpha and offered little to no explanation on his orders, because when they were given he expected them to be followed. It was why he had no issue shunning Roxy when she gave over information that cost wolves their lives. Michael had no compassion for the torture she endured and instead ordered his own daughter to be distrusted and mistreated within her own pack.

When the war began in 2020, Michael was confident that their power and wealth within New York City would be their protection and they were able to remain undetected for a year. He ignored Dominic's warnings about Roxy until eventually learned his lesson the hard way, when she handed the pack over to the human military in 2021. It was Michael's idea to abandon the pack with Dominic, under the guise of finding Roxy to make amends. Truthfully, Michael wanted her to pay the price for her actions for once and for all.

While traveling with his son, Michael has kept searching for other pack members where he can but he has been primarily focused on finding his daughter. He was more sickened at the thought of being crossed by her than any worry of her safety and eventually in 2023, the three were united when captured. They were in a facility together for several more months, Michael reluctantly reforming the bond he once had with Roxy. When the facility was liberated, the three remained together and found Hollow Cove in September.

Michael still doesn't trust Roxanna and is going out of his way to make things difficult for her. He believes she will always crumble under extreme pressure and wants to prove to Dominic for once and for all that she isn't worthy of joining their pack. However, Michael also knows that he needs her help to find other wolves until his plan can really move into action.

[cc-bleach-blazing-souls]

// Safe with Me [Uryu & Mode] - Part 4

"Yeah, I assumed as much. Will you and your body be able to adapt to eating such things?" Uryu questioned Mode he wondered, well he could easily go to the butcher for meat, but he went to visit Urahara just to be sure.

"Thanks..." He grabbed his wet strand of hair from her, well at least there wasn't much beating around the bush with her honesty. Uyru shouldn't be surprised at her distrust of Urahara, he was a Soul Reaper after all, despite his exile.

"Don't worry, he may be shady, but he's the best chance for you to get proper consistent food," Uryu tried to explain to her as she hid behind him, then looked towards Kisuke.

"I'm, housing an Arrancar refugee here. I'm in need of food resources to keep her satisfied, at least so she doesn't start hunting in public for food, especially with all the humans around,"

"Interesting, I can have something prepared for you, but it may take some time, meat in general should satisfy her hunger for now," Urahara replied, trying to get a look at Mode out of curiosity. "I suppose you could think of her as your pet dog."

"Excuse me?!" Uryu was taken aback at the comparison, then rushed off to the butchers to buy some meat for Mode to try, maybe she'd like it that much he wouldn't need to rely on Urahara later.

Soon they arrived home, so Uryu put the raw beef, pork lamb, and chicken in the kitchen for Mode to examine and try for herself.

“Animal meat.” She answered. “Or milk. Bones. Skin. I think animals in general.” Pe answered what she could logic.

Mode plucked only one hair out & attempted to eat it, making a face that she didn’t like the texture on her tongue nor the taste. She handed the wet strand of hair back to him. “Your fur isn’t very tasty.”

The hollow put on an outfit, a cute maid dress, & followed him, hiding what arrancar features she could for traveling outside.

When acknowledged by Urahara, she hid behind Uryu. “I don’t like him. Smells like Soul Society.” Pe told Ishida’s back.

[free-for-all-fics]

Random Jareth thoughts and ideas that have been collecting dust in my notes app lol. Pls tag me if you use any of these 💜

1. Reader is Jareth's new bride and he's helping her get used to her new Fae like magic powers that she gained upon their marriage, but things keep going humorously wrong, much to Jareth's amusement. He tries teaching her how to transform into an owl, but she turns herself into a pigeon. He tries showing her how to conjure and juggle crystals, but hers keep turning into snakes and she's so startled she drops them. etc., etc. you can take it from there

2. You're Jareth's wife. You sometimes accompany him to the Aboveground, but prefer staying in the castle to comfort the wished away children and ease their fears and homesickness. Jareth begins to notice your maternal behavior, particularly around the babes. You read to them, play with them, and sing lullabies to them as you wipe away their tears and rock them in your arms. You're always the most devastated when it's a babe that's turned into a goblin over an older child. Jareth comforts you in your shared chambers, and realizes you want a child. He wants you to be happy, and your wish is one he is all too eager to grant. You do have 13 hours to be alone together, after all.

3. You're Jareth's human wife, but fear you'll grow old and he'll stop loving you since he's immortal. You avoid him, making him suspicious. He spies on you in owl form and overhears you confide in your friend Hoggle, who distrusts Jareth & worries for you. He tries talking you into throwing away your ring and running back to your old life Aboveground, but Jareth intervenes, accusing Hoggle of betrayal & turning you against him. He's ready to throw Hoggle into the bog, but you stop him and calm his temper. He swears he won't let you age or die. You're the only one worthy of ruling beside him forever.

4. Sort of Hades and Persephone AU where Jareth has been alone for so long that he abducts reader, even though she was betrothed to someone else. She tries to escape and goes on a hunger strike for many days, despite Jareth’s efforts to tempt her into eating. She knows of Fae rules and refuses to dance, eat their food, say her name, give thanks, etc. She befriends Hoggle, who is able to smuggle her human food and drink. What reader doesn’t know is her fiancé willingly traded her away to marry someone else and isn’t coming to her rescue. Jareth eventually seduces her and tricks her into eating food of the Fae, trying to calm her when she breaks out of her trance and tries to thrash and spit it out. He tells her she was always his, that he loved her the moment he saw her. Reader is devastated her fiancé would betray her in such a way. And Jareth is always full of tricks and schemes. Despite the circumstances of their meeting, he wants to make his bride happy. If she wants him to seek revenge on her former fiancé, he will. All she need do is ask. Jareth won’t let that unworthy mortal get away with what he’s done. He should’ve known that when making dealings with a Fae, there’s always fine print that can be twisted and turned against you.

Edit: Found these on my ooooooooold IPhone 4. These are like 7 years old but I’ll still resurrect them from the dust and share!

5. Reader is also Fae or a mythical creature from a Realm similar to Jareth. Long ago, she decided to leave and go live Aboveground. She doesn’t regret her decision since she needed to go, but she regrets hurting her dearest friend, Jareth. One day as she's putting away her precious keepsakes from her past, she stumbles across his book. The Labyrinth. She begins to remember all the moments she had with him. When they played together as children, when they danced as teenagers. When they kissed as adults. She wishes she had a second chance with him. A chance to start over, to give their love a proper chance to bloom. She believes that it’s too late now. She can never have that chance. She thinks she must put away her dreams, Including her dream to be reunited with her best friend and almost lover. But maybe Jareth is closer than she realizes. And perhaps he’s willing to reorder time, only for her.

6. It’s been many years since reader successfully ran the labyrinth. She decided to return home after saving her wished away sibling. Reader is now living in London. She still remembers the Labyrinth and the many colorful friends she made there. However, she hasn't seen them in a long time. She's not the imaginative girl she used to be since she became an adult, and is no longer playing games of make believe or getting lost in fantasies and daydreams. She accidentally bumps into a man on the street, and ends up falling to the ground. He apologizes and helps her up. She takes his hand and as soon as she stands up straight, she's in shock at what she sees. The resemblance is striking. He even has the same unusual eyes as him. But it couldn't be Jareth, could it? The man only smiles and stretches out his hand as he says,

"Hello, my name is David. David Bowie.”

[tiny-maus-boots]

Darkest of Nights pt 7

A/N: a million thank yous to everyone still reading. Mostly to my besties for beta reading everything first. @kimmania and @chloes-yellow-cup are the bestest

Beca

Hours later Beca was still unsure about the whole plan. What little plan there was. She paced along the length of the crypt, well aware of the somnambulant predators sitting on either side of the door. She supposed that was their way of protecting the only point of entry, protecting her. 

And that was still weird. Vampires protecting a necromancer.

Beca glanced at Chloe's unnaturally still body and frowned. Okay it was weird and also something else. But she couldn't place what that 'something else' actually was. All she knew is that she had a lot of mixed feelings about teaming up with vampires. 

A problematic venture to begin with, but having to rely on them, trust them…that was asking a lot of herself. And yet…

Beca glanced at the vampires again and jumped when she realized that the blonde's eyes were on her. Watching. The necromancer stopped dead, fingers twitching with the pent up energy she couldn't contain. 

"I had forgotten how restless mortals are."

"Yeah. Probably because we know how short life is. We're compelled to move, to live it with all we have because it's fleeting." 

The blonde vampire inclined her head in a short agreeing nod. Beca thought the silence between them would be full of an awkward weight of fear and distrust but it wasn't. Deep down she knew she could trust Aubrey. More than she could trust Chloe probably. Maybe more than she could trust herself around Chloe. Beca settled on the ground next to the vampire and frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry. About what happened to Harun. I know it was a long time ago but loss scars people. You never really heal from it, and it must suck big time when you live forever."

"Hm, yes. Big time suck."

Beca had to glance away from the vampire, her smile threatening to spread wide at the hesitation in Aubrey's delivery of the unfamiliar vernacular. She had to wonder at whatever hinky magic was making her go from absolute abject fear of vampires to…whatever this was. 

"So how long have you been here alone?"

Aubrey raised a shoulder in a slight shrug. "I could not say. Many years have turned into one unending night. I fear it will take me more than one feeding to return to my true self."

Beca hesitated, a thread of that old familiar fear coiled tightly in her stomach. As far as she knew she was the only food around for miles.

"Worry not, Beca Mitchell. Your blood is too precious to spill for mere hunger." 

"Said every vampire, never." The necromancer sighed heavily as the enormity of what she was facing settled on her. "Your Council especially."

Aubrey growled softly at the mention of the Council, her eyes flashing brightly before bleeding to a deep golden color tinged with red. 

"My Council is a mockery of power and political agenda. They were as gods and now they are nothing but a corruption, a disease. One I intend to remedy shortly."

"When you…return to your true self. Which is what exactly?"

"A vampire."

"Bullshit. If you were just a vampire I could have dropped you before. It's like my compulsion didn't work at all on you."

"Not entirely, no."

"But it worked a little?"

"It made me hesitate. In time, as you grow into your power, you will be able to control me as you controlled your hoard earlier."

"I can barely make your girlfriend go down for a minute or two. I highly doubt I can play vampire marionette with whatever your whole deal is."

"Does it bother you? My lineage?"

Beca leaned back, her head tipping to rest against the wall. Did it bother her? Demons were no more trustworthy than vampires. The things they did, they way they influenced people…good people….

"Honestly? I don't know. Demons aren't known for their humanity."

"I can appreciate your candor, in truth vampires aren't exactly fond of them either."

"Yeah? So how did you come to be?"

"Mother was a bit of a rebel."

Beca smiled a little at that and pulled her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. It was clear Aubrey admired that quality in her mom.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree does it?"

"I suppose it doesn't."

"So why are you really doing this? A few hours ago you were dressed for your own funeral and nearly a skeleton. Now…wait where did you get those clothes?"

Aubrey looked at her evenly, waiting for Beca's eyes to meet her own. The necromancer expected to the golden tinge of hunger, maybe even the red she had seen before but Aubrey's eyes remained a soft green. 

"I took them from someone that no longer needed them. And as to why I have had a change of heart…"

Her gaze drifted from Beca to Chloe, one shoulder raising in a half shrug. Beca watched Aubrey's face soften and change as she looked at the other woman still sleeping. 

"Because she believes it is the right thing to do. You are right about demons, and I let that rage and destruction spread within me for many centuries before I found another way. Before she taught me another way. I could never have loved Harun if she had not first taught me to be something other than just another savage monster."

"You know there are soap operas with less plot twists than your origin story, right?"

"What is 'soap opera'?"

"Bud, we have got to get you caught up on the times. Here…try…this."

Beca dug around in her pocket and pulled out the cell phone she hadn’t had any use for in days. Who would she call? And where would she tell them to find her? She had no idea where the hell she even was. It took a minute to pull up the youtube app and hand it to Aubrey.

"See the symbol here?"

"This small looking glass?"

"Looking glass. Wild. Yes, that symbol. You can use these letters down here to type in a topic and it will return a bunch of video results."

"Videeoh?"

"Here I'll show you. What interests you?"

"Do you know the Harley?"

"Harl…well that was unexpected but okay let's go with that."

She quickly tapped in Harley Davidson into her search and handed the blonde the phone.

"Touch the first one."

The vampire gingerly tapped the screen the way she had seen Beca do it and jerked back when the image started to move.

"Sorcery! Who has trapped these men in this box??"

"Technology. Which is pretty much sorcery. And they aren't trapped, this is like…a memory of these guys. See? You can replay it." 

Aubrey took the phone hesitantly, holding it gingerly as if afraid she would be sucked into it along with the men on motorcycles. Beca watched her touch the screen again and jump slightly when the video started again.

"Does this…technology oracle show other memories of the Harley?"

"Tap the next one on the list."

"What wonderous magic! You must be a powerful necromancer indeed."

"You can find most of the world's known information these days on devices like that but mostly people use them to watch videos of animals being cute."

"Many people have learned this magic?"

"Lady, you might be the only one that doesn't know this magic. Here let me find you a history of the world since- let's say the industrial revolution. Should catch you up to speed enough. Here put this in your ear."

"The memory has sound!"

"Stop proving to me that vampires can be adorable. You're supposed to be mean, soulless monsters."

Aubrey scowled with a firm nod. "Yes. Monstrous."

"Totally not helping your case but okay. You watch these and I'll just close my eyes a few."

"That would be wise Beca Mitchell. You'll need your strength and energy for running soon enough."

Beca half snorted at that and got as comfortable as she could leaning back against the wall. Her eyes drifted close and she gave a soft grunt almost asleep already. 

"Story of my life."

[ahgaseda]

wolf boys || chapter 17

⇥ synopsis : being the young alpha female over a pack of misbehaving werewolves is no easy task and is made even more complicated when the time comes to choose a mate...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring violence or mentions of blood, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Heat may have faded, but that certainly did nothing to stop Jaebeom and his hunger for your body.

“I can finally take you on your back,” he whispered darkly, rolling you over. “See your pretty face when you come for me.”

You raked your nails down his broad chest, licking your lips as you watched him slip his hands to the bends of your knees and pull you apart. His scalding gaze was on your folds, glistening with arousal and release.

The pheromones had quelled. Jaebeom no longer knotted inside you, locking your bodies together after each tryst. For the time being, you thrummed in a constant low current of bliss, body satisfied and filled with little concern of ever feeling empty again.

Jaebeom looked to the bated expression on your face and slipped his length over the hood of your clit. Then, he waited for your consent, which you gave to him with a few nods as you gazed up at him in anticipation.

“Take it,” you finally whimpered when he took too long to penetrate you.

Jaebeom fought a smirk, heady with your endless desire for him, and pressed his cock into your entrance, filling you up as he had before over and over. You lilted your head back and let a tiny moan escape you. Every nerve ending was on edge, every inch of his length driving you through sensitivity.

No more coupling to breed. This was purely for pleasure.

Jaebeom guided your ankle to his shoulder and began to pound away at you, ever eager to give you climax and hear you scream his name for all to hear. You gasped for air at how deeply he stroked inside you. This wasn’t like the other times when you endured his thrusts and your body would move in sync.

You placed a firm hand at the lowest reach of his stomach, trying to slow him down.

Jaebeom tossed his hair out of his eyes and glanced down at your hand.

You winced loudly through your teeth at his hips colliding with yours. “Gentle,” you whispered, trembling. “Gentle…”

Jaebeom studied where your bodies met and something inexplicable crossed over his face. You couldn’t tolerate his usual roughness and now, he saw you as fragile as glass. “Nice and slow then,” he replied softly.

You nodded.

Jaebeom pulled your leg from his shoulder and propped himself over you, chest-to-chest, kissing you tenderly. He just knew there was a baby in your belly; a baby the two of you had made together from a place of love and passion. After the last few days, he knew your body better than his own and hoped that was the reason for your newfound intolerance.

You purred in his ear, locking your ankles over his lower back. His lips danced across your neck, lapping at your skin and setting you afire. The thoughts in his mind blended into your own, becoming shared as everything else between you.

Slow and gentle, you echoed, eyes rolling back at the intensity of his thrusts. Each draw back and push forward of his hips had you seeing stars. His effort was concentrated, coaxing you to completion.

And when Jaebeom told you, “Come for me,” your body didn’t hesitate to obey him.

After his cock throbbed deep in your cunt and painted your walls with release, you brushed your nails up and down his back in comfort. Jaebeom hadn’t stayed inside since the first time, when you requested it of him. Once his knot had been free, he was content to sleep, but not this time.

With no knot to keep him trapped inside, he tightened his arms around you and kept himself buried in your heat in quiet possession. The first thing you noticed was his attention was not on your face.

Something had spooked him.

Reaching up to comb hair from his eyes, you asked, “What is it?”

His response was gruff, “...Nothing.”

You chuckled, your voice barely a whisper. “Jaebeom, you’re inside me. It’s impossible for you to lie.”

Jaebeom finally looked at you and exhaled heavily. Leaning in to kiss you with warmth and affection, you began to wonder if he was trying to make you forget your question.

“An alpha male,” he finally answered and bristled at the mere thought of a challenger seeking his female. “He entered the territory last night.”

You were wholly unconcerned, considering heat had faded. “And if we stay like this, he can’t enter me,” you quipped, since that appeared to be Jaebeom’s motivation for keeping inside you.

Jaebeom frowned. Not in the mood for humor.

It was worth a try, you mused to yourself, knowing he would hear. But you understood where his mind was; Jaebeom was a male that had just bred his mate. His concerns were quite firmly planted in thoughts of protection and defense. Just as yours were fixating to sustenance and nourishment for what would be your growing offspring.

“You’re very weak right now,” Jaebeom commented with worry, eyes centering on the flush of your cheeks. “I feel it.”

It was true. You were dangerously low on energy. “I haven’t eaten in three days. I’ve been busy making a baby with my mate,” you crooned, pulling him closer to press a wet kiss to his neck.

“Mm,” Jaebeom hummed, flexing with arousal at your words. Even the way you spoke was slow and drawn out. There was a shift in your hormones. Where yours had saturated the air he breathed and nearly drowned the scent of him, now his was becoming the dominant again.

Heat had come to an end. It was nature’s way of restoring the balance, of concealing you beneath his scent and warding off potential threats.

After a few more tender kisses, your heart fluttered at the catch in his breath when his lips met yours. Jaebeom was consumed by you, in every possible way.

You let your head fall back, eyes closing as you ran out of strength. “I’m so tired.”

“You’ve been amazing,” Jaebeom whispered, rising to his let his cock slip from your folds and watching his seed fall from your opening. “I can’t wait to watch my baby grow.”

You smiled at that, but your growling stomach gave you a tug. “I need food.”

It had been three days since you left the bedroom. The moment you opened the door, you stuck your head out and peered down the hallway in search of boys. Boys that would undoubtedly pester you about all of the sex you’d been having.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you grumbled with annoyance. There was a definite limp to your walk, soreness lingering between your thighs. You would give Jaebeom a piece of your mind when he finished cleaning himself up.

Then, you smirked, reminded how good he felt and decided to save your complaints for another day.

Opening the fridge and cabinets, you gathered food and proceeded to stuff your face with everything you could find. Going three days without a meal, though the feat was much easier for wolves than humans, you were ravenous.

The scent of another male tickled your nose and you turned as Jackson stepped through the back door. You both gawked at each other briefly before a grin pulled at his lips.

“You smell like Jaebeom,” he teased with his usual humor.

There was nothing in you that distrusted Jackson, but in that moment, you were tired and hungry and extremely vulnerable. Your instincts were still very much in control.

“You smell like male that is not Jaebeom,” you growled.

Jackson held up his hands to show he was of no threat, though he kept smiling. “Ooh, okay. She’s a little hostile.”

Having sensed your shift in emotions, Jaebeom descended the stairs rapidly, zipping up his pants. He moved to your side and coiled an arm around your waist possessively. You folded into his bare chest, burrowing your head beneath his chin. He had foregone a shirt, solely for the reason of allowing you to feel his skin against yours, and wanting to let his scent fill the air without barrier.

Jackson chuckled at your behavior. You were clearly love drunk and still quite hormonal.

Jaebeom looked to his delta and said, “Head back. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Neither male wanted to contend with the protective instincts of a female at the moment.

“Sure thing,” Jackson said with a wiggle of his brows at you.

You narrowed your eyes in scolding.

Once the door had closed, Jaebeom pressed his lips to your temple sweetly and murmured, “Someone is a little feisty.”

You guided his arm across your stomach, like a shield. Nuzzling his neck, you whispered submissively, “My baby belongs to the alpha.”

Jaebeom rumbled like thunder deep in his throat and the sound nearly sent you to your knees. He was quick to warn, “Don’t make me bend you over this counter and show them how well you take my cock.”

You giggled with mischief. Bracing your hands on his chest and pushing the alpha male away playfully, you said, “I have to eat. Keep them away from me until I’m ready.”

“Yes, alpha,” he replied, sauntering to the door and not taking his eyes off of you until he was outside.

You ate until you were content. You felt your strength return little by little, gathering in the pit of your stomach. Rarely did your hand leave your belly. You wanted to know your baby was thriving there, wanted desperately to sense their presence inside you.

With time, you consoled yourself. There was not a single doubt in your mind that the days spent underneath Jaebeom had been successful. You were both young and healthy wolves; not to mention, exemplary alphas. With that in mind, you commanded your thoughts to leave you alone. Stressing over it would never help.

Finally, as the sun left the sky and the moon took her rightful place above, you stepped outside. The four wolves in the yard had been sparring, welcoming back their brother after days without him. They each in turn stopped to watch you, eyes fixated to their alpha female as you descended the stairs.

You still couldn’t phase, couldn’t join them in true form. Your magic was needed elsewhere.

You came to sit in their midst, a human between four massive beasts. Jinyoung tucked his head into your lap, whining until you hugged him between your arms. Jackson swiped his rough tongue over your cheek while Mark was complacent to curl up at your side and let you lean against him.

Settling down after their greetings, one by one the wolves lifted their heads to the moon and howled for all to hear. This song was threatening, eerie - devoid of the grace and gentility of your voice. It was meant as such. To ward off those that would encroach on the claimed territory and the female.

Between notes, Jaebeom inhaled deeply through his nose and the scent on his tongue made him snarl. He’s too close, the alpha hissed lowly.

“I’m not in heat anymore,” you reminded, hands threading in Mark and Jinyoung’s fur.

Perched across from you, the ebony wolf met your eyes. They looked even more golden than usual. But he smelled you and kept following the scent.

We drive him out, said Jackson, rising to his paws and wagging his tail, excited at the prospect of a fight.

Jaebeom rose then, towering over you, and turned to his delta. You stay with her. 

Jackson bowed his head shortly. He was the strongest, of course he would be the protector of the alpha female.

Then, Jaebeom approached you. Who do you want to come with me?

You hesitated, wondering how he would feel if Jinyoung stayed behind at your side.

Jaebeom tilted his furry head and replied, I’m not threatened by him.

You snorted. Jaebeom was tapped into you at this point. There was no need to hide anything from him. You instinctively put a hand over your belly and Jaebeom’s gaze followed.

The alpha brought his head to your lap, rubbing his cheek at the flat expanse of your stomach. You cradled his furry snout, indulging him in his instinctive need.

Pulling back, the wolf announced, I will go alone.

“No,” you replied without a thought.

You can’t phase, he asserted. Three guards are better.

“But Jaebeom…,” you began, getting to your feet and preparing to argue.

I’m the alpha. I will go alone.

The other wolves paced, showing their submission and respect.

You took your mate’s head in your hands, fingers winding in his fur, and said, “Stand before me.”

The beast blinked in surprise.

“I want a kiss.”

Jaebeom appeared before you in an instant, taking you in his arms and melding his lips to yours. You smiled against his mouth, grasping his waist to pull him closer.

“Come back to me,” you said when the two of you finally broke apart. “Fast.”

“Yes, alpha,” was all he said and you knew he meant it.

You watched the man become a midnight wolf in the flash of a second, sprinting into the darkness of the forest without looking back.

For a moment, you stood there, staring into the endless sea of pitch black nothingness that had swallowed him. The three remaining wolves felt the pain in your heart as if it were their own and gathered around you, concealing you in their fur.

You reached up to tangle your fingers in Jinyoung’s familiar coat. You leaned against Mark’s sturdy shoulder. And Jackson brought his head before you, guarding your stomach at the risk of exposing his own throat. A symbolic gesture.

That was when you felt it. The faintest wisp of a thought. One that was not your own.

As tears rolled down your cheeks, you smiled faintly, safe and sound with your wolf boys.

chapter 16 ⇤ chapter 17 ⇥ chapter 18

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[otherworldly-healer]

Challenge Part 2 [The Sage Family Reunion] [~2770 Words]

The group ventured into the forest, the fog becoming ever more dense as they walked forward. This was the direction that Raine had been told the couple was spotted. Still, it had been a few days since that had been reported around town. They could be anywhere in the Mistwood by now. Their only hope was to shout out into the trees, looking for wanderers. Every now and again they would see a creature made of mist and skeletal remains far off in the distance, watching, almost as if it was waiting for the perfect time to strike. The group had fought off some weaker mist creatures already, about the size of a common raccoon. They were easy enough to scare away with their weapons alone, as well as some of the Monster Warding potions that Raine had brought along. She knew there were more coming though. It was only a matter of time.

After two hours of walking, the group had traveled southbound. Someone finally called out in the distance. The professor and her companions walked in the direction of the voices. Raine knew immediately that it was them. Even after so many years, she remembered the sound clear as day. Once her memories returned to her at the Otherworldly Gate she was sure that she would never forget that sound again. Her father reassuring her everything would be alright as long as they were together. Her mother gently chiding her when she asked for too much, or complained that they could not just find a new, safer place to live. Both of them calling her name to gather her belongings so they could continue walking alone through the wilderness.

When the Sages were finally in their sights, Virginia had been sitting on the ground nursing a bandaged cut on her arm, and Kloitz was kneeling down beside her, tensely looking around to make sure that no monsters were lurking about. He looked tired, as if he had been awake for days. Thinking back on it now, that’s how she ultimately remembered her father in his last months. He was run ragged, always making plans for their next escape, and always on watch for the family’s safety. As much as he tried to hide his worry at that time, a child could always tell when secrets were being kept from them.

Raine frowned, turning back to Lloyd and the others calmly, she asked each of them if they could hang back for a moment so that she might speak to them alone. This was something she had been needing to do for a long time. As fate would have it in her own world she would never get that opportunity…but perhaps here the Stars had actually granted her something of a gift. What Raine had been searching her whole life for—answers.

After two years past meeting with her mother, Raine had already stitched closed some wounds in her heart. She knew where she came from now. Genis told her himself that she was nothing like her mother--a fear that tugged at her ever since her memories had returned. Even through all the hardships they had gone through: homelessness, hunger, the distrust of humans, and finally finding a home of their own, her brother still looked up to Raine. While she still couldn’t forgive her parents for abandoning her and heart felt heavy seeing them together once again, she was not shedding any tears immediately upon seeing them. The night before she had braced herself for this meeting. She hardened her heart once again. Raine remembered that day in Exire, where she couldn’t control her emotions and all she could do was cry and scream, so bitter, angry, and heartbroken at the sight of her mother. But now it was different.

Today, the half elf felt melancholy and pity for her parents. Here were two people that tried so desperately to do the best that they could for their children, doomed in every timeline to a tragic end. They never got to live their happily ever after, growing old together in peace. Instead, they traded everything to make sure that their kids didn’t end up as slaves. Now that she had taken a step back to think about it…their choice was completely selfless. There were still holes missing in the story, and perhaps they could grant her some clarity. After reading her mother’s diary, the woman could no longer feel the fury she once did.

Kloitz rose to his feet as his daughter approached. His eyes studied his daughter a look of shock and denial first crossing his features. He looked between Raine and Virginia, voice caught in his throat, and when he finally spoke, there were tears in his eyes. This was the greatest gift Kloitz would be given in life— the knowledge that his daughter would grow up and the world would not completely break her. There was a light on the other side of the darkness. “Raine…is that you? You’re…you’re all grown up. You look just like your mother.”

Those words still stung to hear. Raine did not want to look in the mirror and see Virginia, but she had to admit that both of the siblings had taken after her appearance much more than their father’s. Raine tried to hold it together, giving Kloitz a shaky smile as he rushed over to wrap his arms around her. As soon as he did, Raine couldn’t help but shed a few tears of her own. Even though she had prepared herself for this moment, it still wasn’t easy to keep herself collected. “Yes, father…It’s me. Genis is here with me too, safe and sound. He’s twelve now. He likes playing with kendamas just like mother always did. He even got accepted into the best school in the country.” Raine pulls out her phone and navigates over to her photos, bringing up a picture of both siblings taken at an ice cream stand here in the city.

Kloitz was overwhelmed, and Virginia rose to place her hand on her daughter’s back to look. Raine winced, attempting to hide a scowl, ultimately feeling guilty for her hesitance towards her mother’s touch. Right. She had spent the last two years—more than that now in Spirale—coming to terms with her anger. If there was anyone she should be angry at, it was the Imperial Research Academy. They were ultimately the cause of this family’s destruction. It would take even more time for Raine to accept that, but for the moment she could at least try to set aside her feelings. They didn’t have much time here. It was dangerous. She would have to get to the point.

“And you? What have you been doing in all this time?” Virginia asked.

“I am...a teacher. Just a teacher in a small village.” The full truth was too fantastical. She really didn’t see herself how the world did, anyway, and so she kept it to herself. But to her parents, Raine didn’t need to be a hero. They knew just how much she loved to learn and explore. The Sages immediately knew that her daughter was on a path that she chose herself, and in a profession she always would have wanted.

“We’ve been granted a little bit of time to talk, but when you last saw me I was only eleven. I bet you both want to get back to Tethe’alla, don’t you? …What was the last thing both of you remember?” Her parents looked at each other cautiously and then back to Raine.

“We were on the boat... It was storming on the sea. You had just gone overboard and we pulled you out. You were so shaken, and the boat was headed for safer waters. We were on our way to—huh, where was it again, honey?” Her father wore a nervous smile. Kloitz was trying his best to be positive, like he always had.

“Altamira.” Virginia piped up. Raine hung her head, still being held between both of her parents. They couldn’t even be honest with her now.

“Heh…right. Except we weren’t.” Raine’s expression soured. “Genis and I never got to see Altamira. You asked the ship captain to make a detour. We ended up at the Otherworldly Gate. Genis and I were sent through alone. Mother told me to hold him, and then sent us to go ‘play’ in the ruins. You knew it would take us to Sylvarant…except we never made it there together.” Kloitz and Virginia looked to the group behind her, as if asking silently whether it was alright to be having this conversation here and now. It’s not like she would ever get the chance again.

“Don’t mind them. They know about all of this… Mostly.” The half elf said sternly. Her mother shrank, seeing how severe her daughter had become over the years. She was no longer acting like the child she knew—mischievous and sneaky, joyful and always reassuring her mother that they would be alright, just like she was mimicking Kloitz. No…the world had changed her. In the end, Kloitz and Virginia could not protect her from hardship and suffering.

“Raine…we wouldn’t have done that if we thought there was any other way.” Virginia began crying, her head helplessly falling in her hands. “We got passage onto that ship in a hurry. It wasn’t even a passenger ship. The Research Academy found us in the forest and we were all so tired of running, even you. We could see it in your eyes, even if you wouldn’t tell us. You kept asking us if we would ever find a safe place and it broke our hearts. We wanted you to know a life where you didn’t have to run anymore. The full moon would line up with right when we got there, so we figured that there wouldn’t have been another opportunity we could find to see you to safety! We were going to go together!” Her mother exclaimed, hiccuping.

“Then…what happened?” Raine looked out into the distant fog, picking through her memories of that night. She remembered Virginia in front of her, just out of reach. But where was Kloitz at that time? Had he even made it onto the island? No… he was back on the ship. The Otherworldly Gate only activated for a moment on the full moon. So, if he hadn’t been with them to catch the portal… Kloitz would have been left alone in Tethe’alla. If Raine had Genis, at least none of the family would be truly alone. So…that’s what happened. Virginia didn’t want Kloitz to be left behind. He was her entire world. Raine gritted her teeth. She knew deep down she needed the answer to this question, as it had been nagging at her ever since she went to Welgaia. “D-do you ever regret having us? If we were never born, you would not have been chased by the Research Academy. You could have found another home. Father wouldn’t have had to—he…”

Raine could not finish the sentence. If the last thing that they remembered was the boat, they wouldn’t know that Kloitz would die. She wouldn’t ruin their last remaining month together by telling them of their fate. They could only be positive for so long without breaking down. When you’re a child most think that your parents are your heroes—infallible and always knowing what is best. What she learned from being something of a parent herself was that nobody really knew what was best. The truth was…Kloitz and Virginia had really thought this was their only choice. They were not all-powerful or omniscient. They were just…people. Afraid and full of uncompromising love. They were victims of fate just like the siblings were, and when Raine finally realized that…maybe she already had forgiven her parents. Raine stared at her boots. Deep down she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from them. Before she could see the look in her parents’ eyes, Kloitz brought her into a tight hug again. This time Virginia would join them in the embrace and Raine would not be able to to contain herself, shaking before crying into her father’s coat.

“Sweetie, we love you and your brother more than anything. It’s the world that’s wrong to hate you for your being born to us. We wouldn’t do a single thing different in our lives. Having you gave our lives meaning. You completed us by making us a family…and we’re so proud that it seems like you’ve found people that you care for as well, and who care for you in return.” Kloitz smiled widely, looking back at her team. He was sad to think that she would ever consider herself a burden to them, but he also understood that starting from birth, that is all that a half-elf is told from humans and elves. They’re scorned and ostracized and live in danger of being used as tools. Virginia took some tissues she had hoarded in her pocket and passed them around between the three Sages assuring Raine that she felt the same as her father did. “I wish we had more time to catch up, honey. But your mother and I have to make sure that you two make it to Sylvarant on time.”

At his last comment, Raine would only smile at him dismally. She didn’t want to tell her parents how much they struggled to survive on Sylvarant. It wouldn’t change what had happened in the past. Her life so far had already been set in stone, and no amount of wishing would change her life’s path. She heard what she needed to hear. They were loved. They did their best for their kids, even if there were any other options—for better or worse those actions when she was eleven turned her into who she was today. And finally…finally, she could see her mother as she remembered her. She recognized her daughter. She was still her mother, not the mother of some straw doll left behind in the girl’s belongings. After a couple of minutes Raine had been able to compose herself to a point where she could stand tall once again. She clears her throat.

“Now it’s my turn to protect you. With the help of my friends here.” She would introduce them all, being vague on how they each met. It was too much to go over, especially when there were monsters crawling about. “So…I imagine since you’re here in the Mistwood, this is where the Stars directed you to go?”

Kloitz bent down to the ground where they had originally been sitting. He pointed to a line that he had drawn in the dirt, and Raine leaned down to inspect it. This felt just like when she was a kid. They would often make games out of discerning animal tracks or identifying different herbs and plants. Now the stakes felt higher, but…maybe they always had been after all.

“If we walk past this line, these skeleton monsters made of mist will come after us, but behind this point we seem to be safe. It reminds me of Gaoracchia. Those monsters are how your mother got all scratched up there. Well-sort of. Someone fell down when one of them appeared and got scratched up by a rock. Then a hero swooped in to save the day.” Virginia huffed at her husband and placed her hands on her hips, not appreciating the playful critique of her reaction to almost being killed. Raine noted that her father had been wearing some leather armor underneath his jacket, and he had a sword at his hip, though knowing the Stars he had not been granted a very useful one. At least he knew how to protect himself. “We were told to go past the boundary of the forest. If you successfully brought us there, they would allow us to go back to our time.” Virginia clarified.

The half elf turned back towards her companions, feeling somewhat renewed and ready to take on the monsters. They were relying on her now. That’s right—she’d grown strong, reliable, and against all odds, capable of helping to save two entire worlds. Not bad for a girl who only ever dreamed of being a small town teacher! Raine dug her staff into the ground proudly, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Alright everyone. That’s enough of that. Gather round. I’ve got a plan.”

[teenage-fanbitch]

you left me in this broken world

Fandom: Dream SMP

Word count: 2317

Please remember that this fanfic is about the characters of the SMP, it is not about the content creators and should not be interpreted as suh. There are no romantic relationships in this fanfic because 1. I don't know if the ccs are comfortable with that and 2. I wrote this about their character's friendship.

-----

It was awkward when they first met. At least, for her it was. Will never had issues with meeting new people, he'd just be talking and talking until eventually the person in question talked back.

Maybe it was the way Phil raised him, or maybe he was just born like that. It didn't matter to Niki, because her friend would always smile.

That was something she never seemed to grow tired off. Not back when they first met, not now, not ever.

Things were easier back then, though. Will would sing for her, and they'd dance and laugh their sorrows away.

They'd lost that, somewhere along the way, and she longs to get it back.

They've been through everything together, been through fire and rain for the other. Perhaps it's why she can't handle being away from Will, from the person she considers her brother.

It's not as if she doesn't want him to have this, to create a home for himself, to be free from the voices haunting him in his sleep.

"You deserve the world, Niki."

She remembers watching him softly play a beautiful tune, remembers him warming her frozen fingers, remembers that those hands were not made for war.

"So do you."

-----

They reunite, eventually. She joins the SMP and jumps into Will's arms the moment she sees him. There's a faint smell of battle lingering in his hair, but that doesn't matter, because at least he's still here.

It's fun, walking around L'Manberg with Tommy excitedly telling her the story behind every building.

She understands why Will thinks of him as his little brother, because while Tommy may be annoying, it's endearing to watch him flounder around.

It doesn't calm the raging storm in her, because Tommy's a child, and he just fought in a war, fought for everything he believed in, and he'd died for it.

He'd died for a home.

And Niki will do anything to give her friends one. It doesn't matter if she's known them for years or just met them, they all deserve a place to be happy.

L'Manberg is her everything. It's a place she can annoy Will, can ruffle Tommy's hair, can pass Tubbo a smile, can joke around with Fundy, and can talk for hours on end with Eret, because even they deserve a friend.

Everyone deserves a friend.

-----

Her home is gone the second Schlatt took place on the podium. She's seen bad people before, seen their smirks, the hunger in their eyes, their desire to get what they want.

She's never seen it directed at Will. Everyone loved the boy who played music at the park, who smiled at every person he came across, if only to make their day a tiny bit better. She's never met anyone who looked at him like he needed to be destroyed.

Her hope is gone the second Schlatt banishes her friend. She's seen Will scared before, seen him at his lowest point, but nothing could prepare her for this.

This is Will's home, he fought tooth and nail for it, fought with everything he had. And now it's gone. Her friend loses it all in just a split second, and she can't help but cry his tears.

L'Manberg is gone the second its flag burns. This isn't what L'Manberg was meant to be, was meant to become. This is corruption, and if there's one thing Niki refuses to let happen, it's her friends losing themselves because of it.

-----

There are times when she feels like it's better this way, like Schlatt is a better leader than Will ever could be. Manburg is thriving, and nothing too bad seems to have happened.

But then she hears Quackity scream at Schlatt, and she sees the bottles of alcohol scattered across the white house. She spots Tubbo sneaking away, hands shaking with fear. She sees the hardened eyes of Fundy as he looks at the flag.

She sees herself, sitting at the L'Mantree, looking at where the walls used to be. This is their tree. Except it isn't really theirs anymore, is it?

There were times when they'd come to the tree when she'd listen to Will rant about governing, when Will would sing her a song after a nightmare and she'd finally be able to rest. But Will is gone now, and she's all alone again.

She wants it back. She wants her friend back.

-----

People always tell her she's too kind for her own good, that she wouldn't see an absolute asshole if they'd be standing right in front of her.

But it's not that she doesn't see it, or purposely ignores it. Even the most hated people can have a heart.

The citizens of L'Manberg hate Eret, warned her for the king, but she didn't listen.

Because she knows that deep down, Eret still has loyalty, still has something to fight for, still has a heart.

Even the worst people can be saved. That's what she always thought. But not now, as she stands in front of Schlatt and all she sees is rotten.

Schlatt doesn't deserve her kindness. Not after everything he'd done to her, to everyone. The first punch was one of anger, the second one of hatred, the third one of sadness, and by the fourth one she's lost it.

She's crying and punching and she doesn't even notice when her punches only hit air, when she's dragged away and all that is left are tears as she stares at the bars of her jail cell.

-----

Nothing has ever mattered more to her than this. Not when Tubbo is covered in burn scars, when Tommy is no longer bouncing around, when Quackity is silently standing in a corner, and Fundy looks at her like he doesn't know if it was worth it.

She doesn't either. Will has lost it, he wears insanity in his eyes and once she thought she could fix that, could convince him that it was going to be fine.

But she can't, can she? She hadn't missed his coldness towards Tommy, his not caring about Tubbo, his distrust of Fundy. Even Technoblade was worried about him, even Technoblade thought he was too far gone.

Nothing has ever mattered more to her than this, because maybe getting L'Manberg back will get her her brother back, will save him from whatever is destroying him.

-----

They won. L'Manberg is back in their hands and there's still hope. They can make this place a home again.

And so they remove the decorations, remove everything that has something to do with Manburg, with that vile memory.

She's the first to spot the TNT. No one else noticed, and she doesn't want them to. They're finally laughing and she doesn't want to ruin that. So she covers it up, she pretends like it isn't there because they're safe, right?

Until Technoblade breaks. And then so does Tommy, and Tubbo, and all of her friends. They all break.

And so does she, once she realises Will isn't there, because that can only mean one thing. She wasn't able to save him.

-----

She knows Will was gone long before, knows this is probably what he wanted, but she can't help her aching heart the second Phil puts his sword through her friend's chest.

She loved her brother more than anything in the world, and now he's gone. Killed by his own father, by one of the few people that knew how much he was actually hurting.

There's a scream on her lips, and she doesn't care if it gets out, because Will was the one person that had always been there for her, that promised to never leave her. And now he's dead. He's gone and he's not coming back and that scares her.

So she screams and she cries it all out, she doesn't fight the withers, doesn't care if they'll kill her.

Her throat aches and her eyes burn, and it's all Phil's fault. He's the one who did this to her, the one who took her home.

And she screams a little louder.

-----

She finds herself sitting at the L'Mantree again, reminiscing about a past time. Back when Will was still in charge, and they'd be looking at their country, and everything would be okay.

Back when Will would lend her an old coat of his to keep her warm. Now she stole the coat herself, she'd grabbed it from his body, had ruffled his hair one last time, and ran away with tears in her eyes.

She doesn't care that the coat is covered in blood, because it still smells like Will, and it still makes her feel safe.

And safety is something she hasn't felt in a while. Tommy looks so lonely without Will, Tubbo looks too small to wear a presidential coat, Quackity looks so quilty walking around town, Fundy looks so broken and grown up, Phil looks so quilty every time he spots the cave.

And Niki looks at New L'Manberg, and she feels the need to run.

-----

The first sign is the flag. It's a nice flag, and it's good to have something to symbolise a change, that they're not the same.

But it still pains her to see a part of Will disappear. He didn't get a grave, didn't get a memorial, it's like his memory was stained, like he was never even there.

The second sign is when Tommy's exile. It's fair, in a way, but the boy doesn't deserve this. Nobody deserve to relive their trauma like that.

Tommy's irrational actions have hurt a lot of people, but this was still his home, and it wasn't fair of them to take it away from him.

The third sign is the butcher army. Sure, Technoblade isn't exactly innocent, but they'd treated him like he wasn't even human, like he was less than a beast.

And while she may not have liked Phil, may be unable to look the man in the eye, they'd clipped him from his wings and chained him to his house.

L'Manberg was supposed to be free, a way to leave all that cruelty behind. And look at it now, look at what there is left of the nation Will had promised her, the nation he had build with his own two hands.

-----

She sheds no tears when New L'Manberg inevitably falls. This country has been walking a fine line for months now, it's not the place Will had promised her anymore.

It's not. Fundy knows it, Eret knows it, even Tommy and Tubbo know. It's not worth her tears, not worth for her to spill her heart.

So she burns it down. Drops some TNT when she feels like it, because she wants to be a part of its downfall, wants to destroy the thing that had taken so much from her.

The battle has already been lost when she spots the tree, spots the one thing that had remained the same through all these years, and she remembers sitting here and smiling.

Now she watches the tree burn, watches all the memories and all the suffering turn to ashes. Because, even if she had called this place home, had loved its inhabitants, it was never meant to be.

-----

She freezes. Of course she does, because she knows that sweater, knows that beanie, knows who it belongs to. She doesn't know that skin, can't know that skin.

Fundy told her Ghostbur had helped with the renovation, but it couldn't be true, could it? Will is dead, he's gone.

He would've come back for her if he was still here. Ghost or not.

He would've.

It must've been her imagination playing tricks on her, there's no yellow sweater, no red beanie, no Ghostbur.

So she does the one thing she knows how to do. She runs away from her problems once again, doesn't look back, and sets the world further ablaze.

Her world. His world.

Their world.

-----

It starts making sense now. She finally gets why Tubbo exiled Tommy. Sure, he abided Dream in doing so, what only worsened the situation, but she does get it.

Tommy started this whole thing. He considered the discs worth more than anything his friends worked their asses off for. He kept aggravating Dream. He took away everything from her.

Maybe things would be better off without Tommy, maybe Will would've still been at her side if it weren't for him. Maybe Tommy should just die.

-----

The plan doesn't work. Either because Tommy knows what's up or he's just the most lucky bastard on this server.

It hurts to see him like this, though, so insufferably annoying. Because this is the Tommy she first met, the boy who was so bright and had no idea what the future would hold.

How much suffering he'd put everyone through.

She can't stand his innocence, his ignorance, she can't stand him.

"I hate you!" She does, doesn't she? "You left me behind, Will!" But she's not talking to Will, is she? "Tommy. I meant- I meant Tommy."

She takes a few steps back, shakes her head as brown hair returns to blonde, and she doesn't stop the tears that fall.

-----

It's only in her dreams that she finds peace. She doesn't get many of them, she barely sleeps anyway, but when she finally drifts off and it's not the usual nightmares that plague her, she can't help but smile.

It's all a dream, she knows that, but everything is better than her reality, everything is better than the endless cycle of hurt.

So when she spots the L'Mantree still standing, and it's Will welcoming her with open arms, she gives in. She hugs him tight and while it may not be real, it's still Will.

It's still safe.

"Maybe I'll join you some day, Will. Then we can laugh like we used to, sing some songs. We can be free again."

-----

[henryobsessed]

The Widow and The Witcher Chapter 22

Summery: Geralt and Julia are on there Honeymoon away from the safety of the Estate and the accepting people of Wolnosci.

Word Count:   2715 

A/N  special thanks to my Husband who said the story needed another fight scene and to my brother in law who suggested the Basilisk that was often found in the caves near Kear Morhen. :)

Chapter 22

Geralt was enjoying the quiet as they made their way North. Originally, he had wanted to take Julia to Toussaint, but the war-ravaged areas south of Wolnosci were too dangerous to travers. So instead he decided to take her to Kear Morhen, the place where he had grown up. Yes, there were bad memories that hid amongst the rooms at his home, but over the years many good memories were also forged, and it was a beautiful place.

They had travelled well into the afternoon and Geralt had found a nice clearing to spend their first night on the road. Checking the area to make sure they would have no surprises he returned to find Julia leaning against a fallen tree trunk. A warm fire blazing in front of her. He just stood admiring her as the flames illuminated the highlights in her hair, and the soft smile that turned up just at the sides of her lips as she concentrated intently on something she was making. How this woman made his arms ache to hold her, and his heartbreak at the thought of her ever leaving him. Stepping forward he deliberately broke a branch underfoot to alert her to his presence. She looked up as Geralt strode purposely towards her the small smile faltering before breaking into a wide grin that lit up her eyes as she recognized who it was.

Unable to be without her in his arms any longer he sat down beside her leaning back against the tree trunk and pulled her into his lap. She giggled lightly placing the food aside that was in her hands she turned looking at his now whisker covered face and scolded Geralt "Hey you'll ruin dinner" not really caring about the dinner he lowered his lips to claim hers wanting to satisfy another kind of hunger, one that had been put off for too long.

Julia's mind was losing the battle, she wanted to follow through with her plans of making a nice dinner for her husband. She had remembered from her days camping with her family some simple recipes and was eager to show Geralt that she could cook as well as heal. Right now, however his soft lips had claimed hers and the deeper the kiss the less she though about the food, and the more her body was responding to his. She felt his hands caressing, searching looking to release her of her clothing, reminding her of their wedding night however this time there was no nervousness. Keeping the kiss connected she Lifted up the hem of her garment and shifted herself to straddle her strong warrior.

At the connection of their bodies Geralt groaned as he felt his wife's nimble fingers undoing his laces, lightly grazing his growing need. She pulled away from his kiss and looked longingly into his eyes, the depth of love and joying speaking volumes from the deepening pools of her eyes. That look told him more than any words ever could, she was his and he was hers and for the rest of their lives together they would seek to show each other that love.

Later that night they reclined together in front of the fire. Relaxed and enjoying the simple bread and meat meal that Julia had made. The night sky was full of stars, that Julia could see as she looked up through the trees. She had missed this part of camping, the business and noise of her daily life replaced with the sounds of owls hooting, crickets and frogs singing their songs and the odd wolf howling in the far-off distance. She was relaxed here protected in the strong warm arms of her husband. Placing her hands on his stomach she sighed and said in a lazy soft voice "I love this Geralt, the serenity of nature, just you and me. Most of all I love you." her hands tracing the outlines of his muscles she saw a small rippling effect as he sighed contented and replied in his own husky deep voice "I love you too Julia"

The next morning Julia awoke snuggled into a warm pillow, the pillow moved as Geralt took each breath. He was awake too looking up at the first rays of the sun streaking through the sky. His soft gravelly voice whispered through the clearing "Good Morning my love, how did you sleep?" as his arms wrapped possessively around her waist pulling her closer into him. Enjoying their closeness Julia just murmured not creating a usable word. Chuckling Geralt shifted so they could look at each other. "We should make a move soon if we want to get to Flotsam Inn by night fall, sleeping under the stars is lovely but I want a warm bath tonight." Julia grinned at the thought, she really didn't want to have to wash in the cold waters of the Pontar river. Leaving the warmth and security of his arms Julia stood up and gathered some food from the saddles. Thank fully Nessie had provided easy travel food oat bars, banana's and biscuits to keep them going as they packed up and headed further North.

The day was long and lazy as Geralt show Julia the beautiful land to the north. She had never travelled this far and was enjoying being a tourist. As they neared Flotsam Inn though the feelings of enjoyment faded. She had forgotten that unlike Wolnosci many humans disliked Witcher's. She now however could feel the curiosity, distrust, and fear as they passed through the different towns as people kept staring at them Julia realised this is what Geralt had been experiencing most of his life. I was soul destroying, she had always had warmth, acceptance and love even when she travelled in her early years their family had been accepted.

After they moved through Biaey Most Geralt had stopped and change into his cloak hoping to hide who he was so that Julia would not have to experience people's prejudice. He had been spoilt in Wolnosci; He had not forgotten what this was like, but he could feel it more knowing that Julia was being subjected to it as well. Hoping that Flotsam would not be as bad they headed towards their night's accommodation. Dismounting at the Inn, Geralt took Julia's hand in his, her warmth gave his comfort as they headed indoors.

Julia had visited inn's before, the smell of Ale, the laughter and music, but this was different again. The sound of women's and men laughter was floating on the breeze from a stairwell that lead to a lower floor and on this level, there were men singing and laughing as they lifted their mugs in salutes. Geralt spoke to the bar keeper and after he was pointed to another flight of stairs that went up he had turned around to Julia an unreadable look on his face as he took her hand and lead her upstairs. At the top of the stairs Geralt led her to a door and unlocking it made their way inside. It was simple, a queen bed on one side, a fire on the other and a long bathtub sitting close to the fire. Geralt turned to her and said with concern "I'm sorry Julia, I forgot"

Geralt was kicking himself. It had been so long since he had been to Flotsam Inn that he had forgotten that it was also a brothel. The sounds of music, dancing and more could be heard through the thin walls and he was horrified that he had bought his beloved into this place. He could tell by her face that she had not cottoned onto what kind of establishment they were in. Could he just pretend and hope that they could sleep and then leave without her realising? She smiled as her face turned to the bath and walked over and filled the two metal jugs sitting beside the bath with water from within the bath then sat them beside the fire to heat. A sound of groaning and a loud squeal of laughter came floating though the wall, at this Julia's face turned back to Geralt a look of surprise crossing her features as Geralt groaned he was not going to live this one down.

That night after they had both had a long bath and were now cuddled in the bed, Julia giggled again into Geralt's chest remembering the red blush that had crept up into his face as he described where he had bought them for the second night of there Honeymoon. She had worked out something was different when the sounds became less laughter and singing and more moaning as they night had grown closer to midnight. Geralt had been mortified trying to apologise and Julia had found it endearing that he had wanting to protect her innocence. She was not worried as a healer she had met many different people and although she did not want to make a habit of staying in places like this she was grateful for the hot bath, clean room and warm soft bed.

Keeping her ear to his heartbeat to drown out the noise she asked "Geralt can you tell me a story, one of your adventures?" His deep chuckle became the only sound she could hear as he began telling her about how he had saved Cirilla's father who at the time was enchanted as a hedgehog. His deep voice filled her ears and lulled her into sleep with images of sward fights, magic and a child surprise who was now her daughter.

Early the next morning they had left Flotsam Inn, the images of half-dressed ladies sitting around the tables eating their breakfast still floated around Julia's mind. She could never imagine being in a situation that would leave her with that as the only option of survival. Grateful to her father and her husband for providing for her and then for her mother who gave her a skill that she could always use to support herself no matter what happened.

Together Geralt and Julia spent the next four nights sleeping under the stars not willing to try another Inn but enjoying the peace and gentle noises of the forests. On the fifth night before reaching Kear Morhen the weather had turned bad with a storm moving through. To take shelter they had found a cave. They sheltered near to mouth of the cave as Geralt was not comfortable going further in as an unease settling around them. Unable to make a fire Geralt held Julia close their body the only thing to keep them warm as their clothes and blankets were soaked.

Julia noticed Geralt's unease and as the night went on she noticed his silver medallion started to vibrate remembering the same action when she was a child Julia not making a move asked in a very quiet voice "Geralt, are we sharing the cave with a monster?" all Geralt could do was hum quietly while he thought out a plan. Unsure what he was about to face he quietly put his hand into his side satchel. The only elixirs he had was the Golden Oriole, and Cat Elixir hoping that he would not need anything else picking each one up and opening the bottles with his teeth he drank them down. For a moment he realised Julia will be seeing him with his cat eyes but knowing he needed to protect her he stood and decided to go on the offensive rather than wait for the monster to come to him. Silver sword in hand he bent down and kissed Julia on the head "wait for me, if sounds get louder head into the trees just there and be alert, I love you" Julia whispered back "I Love you too" as Geralt headed deeper into the cave.

Julia waited, listened and did all she could not to panic as the sound of a bird like screech pierced the night. If she was to accompany Geralt on hunts she would have to get used to this. Granted they would be more prepared right now Geralt had no idea what he would face. Doing the only thing she could Julia started praying, and prepared herself to help Geralt in whatever state she found him in. The sound grew louder and in an instant, she jumped up and ran for the trees as Geralt had instructed. Just as she turned around, she saw Geralt run out of the cave and with a movement of his hand it looked like a bolt of flames flew towards the creature coming at him. The creature flapped its wings and tried to slash at Geralt while Geralt returned with his own sward parries.

The Beast had a birdlike beak, webbed wings, hooked talons and had crimson skin hanging from its neck. If she would hazard a guess it looked like a dragon but Geralt would never harm a Dragon. When they were reading of the monsters in the library, he had said time and again that dragons were endangered intelligent creatures to be protected. While she watched him fight, the creature hovered up as if to fly towards him, but with a flick of his fingers another bolt of fire flew at the beast causing it to drop back down. and Geralt used his silver sword to attack. In her mind the fight was slow, and her mind was working slower trying to remember which monster this was, surly they had talked about it. A picture came to mind the red skin hanging from the neck, the beak like face it hit Julia so Quick that she whispered out loud "it's a Basilisk" also remembering there talons were not there greatest defense but a Poison they shoot at there prey. She prayed the Golden Oriole would be enough to protect Geralt.

Julia watched helplessly from the trees as a cloud of spray hit Geralt in the face, slightly blinded the beast came at him again slashing at his torso. Holding in a scream Julia huddled by the tree continuing to pray. Geralt swiped at his eyes and made another sign with his fingers once more fire flew at the beast this time it was so shaken that it did not see the silver sward as it came down on its neck severing its head from its body. The best dropped fully to the ground as Geralt also collapsed. As she looked from behind the tree, she was the beast was dead, seeing Geralt laying on the ground she ran towards him. The poison coated his body, she knew she could not touch him. Looking around she saw the horses and their canteens hanging from the saddles, quickly she ran grabbing both canteens and also her shoulder bag containing her elixirs. Grateful she had packed them she ran back to Geralt.

Watching him carefully, Julia poured the first canteen of water over the wound on his torso it cleared the substance away from the wound. Hoping it was clean enough she grabbed an elixir and poured it over the area. It bubbled and hisses, seeing it was cleaning the dirt and toxins out of the wound and reducing the bleeding she breathed a sigh. She then placed a piece of cloth over it to protect the wound. Geralt groaned looking up at her his eyes looking more like cat eyes but still she could see the pain reflected there as his body fought the toxins. He tried to move but she placed a hand on his clean forehead the only place not covered in the stick substance. "Shh my love don't move" he laid his head back down, his breathing labored as the pain seemed to take his consciousness as he passed out. There was little left she could do, she needed more water, she needed help to move him to a safe place. Making one more desperate petition to her unnamed God two things happened, she heard a voice call out and the heavens open.  

Previous Chapter Twenty one                                    Next Chapter Twenty Three

I have Tagged people who follow me and who I follow if you want to be removed or added please let me know :)

@keanureevesisbae @darkverrmin @viking-raider @littlefreya@madbaddic7ed @the-soot-sprite @thelastsock @lovetusilver20@crimsonrae @demivampirew @ladyreapermc@henrycavillobsessed @nitannichionne @runawayolives @heartfelt-pen @omgkatinka @star017 @llly113 @sad-ghost-of-garbage @ayamenimthiriel @starstruckkittyangel @lebguardians @summersong69 @notyouraveragemochii @imneonpanda @carriebee1 @ivyfatale @thereisa8ella @lucy930 @sarahmichelle5 @stuckupstucky @cleodoramer @kmuir1 @elliepower @xobriellaxo24 @xxxkatxo @supernovacocorocha @hennerslionhat @xo-mery-ox @waitedforlove743 @ladamari68 @coksy @wickedrum @harleyfranquinn @mysticalstrangerearthquake @justrae9903 @willkatfanfromasia @daddys-littlewhitegirl @cavilladdict @lebguardians @theblondetumbleweed @snowbellexx​ @radaofrivia @geralttheewitcher @acdd22 @thullyana​ @fanfictionaddiction99​ @beckythfc1882 @heyheyharry​ @sauve-et-libre @shy-violet-soul  @elliepower @msamericanrebel​ @minion-of-the-lord

[bloomingtalent]

Left on her nightstand would be a wrapped box containing some sweets and one other containing self-tailored outfit for casual wear. A note that was left would read 'I'm sorry I've kept you for so long ... You must have much more important places to be during these times. Holidays have never been my thing, but I believe I'll make an exception. Just this once. --Sasori'

Send random Christmas/winter asks to my muse!

It wasn't so unusual for Hinata to wake up from sleep, the reasons varying. Sometimes, she was plagued by thirst or even hunger and other times it was worry for the events of the next day. Tonight though, was because of a nightmare - that she was being hunted due to having become a missing-nin. She wasn't sure what the events were that led to this but it was still all too real and she woke up with a start before glancing around.

She was still in Sasori's capture so in a sense, her nightmare wasn't all that fake. She sat on her bed before eyes fell to the night table with the gift and the note and her eyes widened a little. This wasn't a criminal who wrote these things - it was a human who had chosen the wrong path. While she wasn't sure what he really thought of her, she felt a little more of her distrust towards him fading before she opened both gifts before examining them. One was practical while the other one was simply delicious!

But she quickly put them back before exiting her room, eyes on the lookout for the puppeteer. "Sasori?" she asked into the dimly lit hall he usually worked in but it was empty and silent before she slowly turned away...and a tiny smile formed on her face. Sasori wasn't a criminal - not like in her dreams.

[jinmukangwrites]

Hunger

Despite the title’s similarity to Feast, by no means is this one crack >;)

If this one feels like it ends a bit quickly it’s because if I didn’t end it where it was it would have kept going, so sorry about that. Hope you all like it though!

WARNINGS; Normal Jin things, angst, over reading into canon, manipulation, mind control.

Summary: There’s a demon, and she’s been hungry for a very long time. Patiently waiting for the perfect moment to pounce upon her prey.

-o-o-o-o-

A year. It's almost been a year since the last time she's seen that boy. Well, she's seen him plenty of times as he walks through the small neighborhood, across a rickety bridge, and into his home. Yes, yes she's seen him plenty of times, but it's been a year since he's seen her.

And she's starving. 

The last time she's seen him, he was desperately trying to trade his stamina for strength, rambling about a sword and being too weak to hold it, and the energy passing through her sealed powers was oh so very delicious. She didn't think that he'd never come back, that he would be content with his strength after pulling that cursed sword and regaining his stamina with each soul stone he gathered on his travels there after. She's been forgotten, she's been made un-useful. Cast away, thrown aside like an old sword pulled off the corpse of a lowly Bokoblin.

She's so, so hungry. 

And her plan was working so well too. The child listened to her gentle promptings to bring the hero to her. She told him of her ability to trade energy and even though she could see suspicion in his eyes, it was poorly masking his consideration and excitement. Her tempting powers dug their claws into the back of his head and she knew he would be back. 

She didn't think it would be just once. He was supposed to keep coming back, he was supposed to come to her a full power and grovel at her feet and then she'd win. Hylia's damned followers, all of their painstakingly crafted talismans and sealing spells would become undone and the stone encasing her would finally peel away. 

But it didn't end up that way. Why?! How could she have failed?!

A year. A year passes and his energy finally fades away from Hyrule. Her king, Demise, finally defeated; now she has nothing to sustain her. Soon, soon she'll lose feeling, lose the ability to speak to humans, to tempt. Soon, she'll simply be able to stare, and watch the gentle waters in front of her, sealed away to never prowl the earth like the demoness she used to be. She needs to eat. 

She's so, so very hungry. Famished.

Because if she fades, if she starves, then she'll be able to do nothing but hope that when her king rises again that he'll remember her, that he'll remember how much she's done for him, how much life she's taken for him and gifted to his greatness and that he'll come for her. But she understands how pointless hope is. There are other spirits in the world, some older than the Kingdom of  Hyrule itself, sealed away in swords, in stone, or rotting away… nothing but dust dissolving beneath the surface, forever laid in an eternal slumber with no hope of seeing the stars again. She can feel those spirits, they're all strong, and even she must admit some are stronger than herself, she's a newborn to them even though she's seen ten thousand rotations of the stars, but they've all failed, and they were all forgotten by their king.

She's failed. Those blasted monks managed to seal her away, and she has been longing for the touch of her king ever since. 

There's footsteps and she can feel a familiar presence approaching. She can't quite tell who it is or how strong they are, but the smell of the soul approaching is one she'll never forget. She got a taste of it ten thousand years ago, she got to indulge herself in it just a year ago. 

The soul of the hero. 

If she had a working nose, she would smell, and if she could smell, she would smell that intoxicating scent all around her, but for now she can only sense it, only feel it's presence get closer and closer with each footstep.

He's coming. The boy is finally coming. She won't give him a chance to resist, she will tear into his soul and claim his life for her own the moment he gets close enough for her to do so. No deals. No silky lies. She has no time. No time to makes sure he stays sane when she takes over. 

No time to make sure she stays sane.

But, when the presence arrives, she's taken aback. 

Children. It's children. Confusion, anger, fear, it all swirls around her because //how long has it been? Has it truly been just a year? In her imprisonment, she's lost track of time on many occasions, but nothing confused her like this. Has the hero died and been reborn in the space of time where she had thought it was just a year? 

Intrigued, she studies the children before her. Or… child. The other looks young, but she can sense something older about him. He's not a child, just very, very short. Fascinating. They're moving together, and in her weakened state she cannot tell which one possesses the soul of the hero. 

"Didn't Wild say we shouldn't come here?" The short one asks, the question doesn't match his tone of voice, as if he knows perfectly well what the answer is to that question, he's just asking to make sure his companion and he are on the same page of breaking rules. 

She wonders who "Wild" is. 

"I don't know why," the child says, grinning comically wide, "it's cool down here. Woah-"

The child catches eyes on her and he gapes. She has to force herself to not try to reach out to him, so that he won't feel her presence until she's ready for him to. For now, she just needs to figure out which one of these newcomers apparently bear the spirit she craves to devour most. 

"Kay, that's a little weird," the short one says, giving the black statue a raised eyebrow. The child rolls their eyes and goes to walk towards her. She carefully let's her senses roam between them, determined to find which one smells oh so very good.

"More like super cool."

The child maybe… he has the classic messy blond hair, the short yet muscular statue, the innocent eyes. However, that may prove difficult for her. Children are much harder to corrupt. 

So, maybe the short one? It is easy to tell just by looking at his face that he has a strong moral code, the sword on his hip is worn with pride, and even though his clothes are of a variety of colors, the color of the forest is still present, something that every hero has worn at some point in time. 

Imagine her surprise when hero of the spirit sticks around both of them even though they're now separate. 

How very interesting. 

The child is in front of her, studying her as much as she's studying him even though he does not know it yet. He's so close to her, so close that if she reaches out just enough… she might be able to taste. 

But she can't. 

The child is too pure, as children often are. She can see it, his spirit has suffered much, but never enough to leave holes for something else to crawl in. If she had time, she could wear him down slowly, like she had tried to do with the other hero, widdle him down bit by bit until she's had her touch in every inch of his body, so she could easily, easily—

But she can't. She doesn't have enough time and she’s so hungry.

The small one approaches now, giving her a distrustful glance and she instantly knows this one would be difficult as well, in their own way. She can practically see his brain working, gears shifting, going through every possibility and option again and again and again until he knows for a surety of what will happen next. It would take some convincing, some white lies, some flawless acting, but in time she can see herself indulging herself in his very essence.

But again. Time. 

"We should leave," the small one says, and she instantly knows that he had a good head on his shoulders, if the narrowed look he's giving her is anything to do by. Clearly, he has experience with things that do not look as they seem.

The child gives the other a protestant look, and it's that moment that she realizes that if she doesn't make her move now, she may never eat again. She might as well grab what she can before she's left to rot, to join the millions of others servants of the great King of Thieves in dust.

She prepares her powers, and she's about to reach out and take what she can… but she's stopped when something absolutely… intoxicating overwhelms every single one of her senses. 

"There you two are!" Calls a new voice, but she can hardly pay attention to the words because not only does this one also possess the soul of the hero, but there's darkness practically oozing from him, so much so that she sees the holes in his spirit before she sees him. 

He's had shadows in him. So many. And it sends shivers down her being at the thought of occupying where they used to reside. She wouldn't even need to tempt him, he wouldn't have a choice… all he needs to do is get a little closer. 

"How'd you find us?!" The child demands, looking like a fox caught in a cucco coop. 

The newcomer rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wild made the mistake of telling you two to not go somewhere."

The child clicks his tongue, giving the newcomer a sideways annoyed look. "C'mon, you have to be at least a little curious."

"I… trust Wild's judgment. If he says we shouldn't be here, then we shouldn't-"

He takes another step forward and she sinks her teeth in before he can even finish his sentence. 

It's delicious. The pain. The anger. The guilt. It's pure fear and desperation that drives him, keeps him going and she forgets to hold back, forgets to go slow, and the stupid boy stumbles and black embodies them both, though, she relishes in it. He screams… but she's the only one around to hear it.

-o-o-o-o-

Wild grunts as he carefully lifts the mound of blankets off from a high shelf in his little storage room. Sky is right behind him, spotting him with hands up and a worried face like he's afraid that Wild will trip over the chest and chair he carefully balanced on top of each other to actually reach the shelf. 

Oh ye of little faith. 

He carefully jumps off of his makeshift step stool and hefts the pile of blankets in his arms for a better grip. Sky looks beyond relieved that Wild didn't trip and kill himself and grins at him. Wild grins back too. They're both excited.

It's not the first time they've ended up at Wild's home, it's just the first time where they've actually been giving time to just… relax for a few days. Zelda is in Kakariko and she heard news that he and the rest of the heroes are back in their Hyrule, so she sent the fastest messenger bird she had, telling him that if he doesn't wait for her in Hatino, she'll beat him up. It's all in good fun, she's been getting more confident with her teasing the more comfortable they get in their relationship… whatever that was. Neither of them are quite sure yet. They're definitely friends, but the title of "best friend" "boyfriend" and "the only person in the world who understands me" is a bit harder to figure out or at least admit out loud to each other.

Not that Wild minds. He just enjoys her company, and she promises that she enjoys his. He supposes that if anything more happens in their relationship, something like... kissing or whatever… he'd take it as it came. For now he's not focused on that and she isn't either, and he's okay with that. 

For now, he's just excited to see her. 

So, as she takes the journey towards Hateno, she instructed the heroes to wait at Wild's house and stay there until she can meet up with them. With how safe the roads have been lately and the horses Kakariko had started to raise, the journey shouldn't even take two days. A day and a half maybe. 

Depends. 

Whatever the case, Wild needs to make sure there is enough room in his home for eight more sleeping bodies, soon to be nine once Zelda arrives. Her escort will go to the tavern or just camp in his backyard so he at least doesn't have to worry about them. For now, all he needs to worry about is Warrior who's been insisting on being the one to sleep in the upstairs bed. Wild's pretty sure he's joking, that he knows that Zelda will definitely get the bed once she arrives. Twilight has been firm in his stance that Wild should get his own bed until then, but Wild would rather Hyrule who's still recovering from a sprained ankle that he gained just a few hours previously. 

Anyway. Hence the blankets. 

"Got them?" Sky asks, and Wild nods, "need help?"

"Nope," Wild replies, carefully turning around and stepping over a toppled over box. Okay, maybe Sky did have reason to worry, he did fail on his first attempt. "Let's just get these inside. Open the door for me?"

Sky nods and reaches towards the shack door and pushes it open. Wild's about to head out, but then Sky gasps and runs out of the doorway. Wild grunts as the door swings closed and knocks into him, knocking the blankets out of his hands and hitting both his elbows rather viciously. He stumbles backwards and trips over a box and ends up sprawled on his back with a pile of blankets laying on top of him. 

What.

It's not like Sky to pull pranks like that. Wind would. Legend maybe. But Sky? Sky would have held open the door because he's the most polite person in the world. If he let go of the door like that, he must be secretly evil… or he saw something wrong.

Wild throws off the blankets from on top of him and scrambles to his feet, ignoring the slight smarting his elbows are doing now. He runs to the door and swings it open himself, and all thought rushes out of his mind when he sees Sky taking the weight of a person as Wind collapses into his butt, gasping, and Four worriedly starts talking. 

The person is halfway conscious, having to lean fully onto Sky to keep upright, and they're Twilight.

He sprints out and ends up besides Sky in an instant, taking one of Twilight's arms to lesson the load of another person. "What happened?" He demands, trying not to look at the way Twilight's eyes are screwed shut and his mouth pulled into a grimace. 

"That's what I've been saying!" Four snarls, he's panting, knees shaking, both Wind and Four must have worked together to drag Twilight over here. "I don't know! He just passed out and-"

"What's this?" Another voice joins in. Wild turns his neck and he sees Time standing in the doorway with Warrior leaning over his shoulder, both looking shocked and worried. 

Four throws his hands up into the air and groans. 

-o-o-o-o-

Wild cooks when he's nervous or when he doesn't know what to do. It's been hard to do that while on the move, mostly with Twilight being a jerk and not letting him hunt game if they have fish and vegetables already available, but now that very person is lying upstairs in his bed in a mess of his blankets, working hard to fight off a fever and Wild's kicked out of his own bedroom to give Warrior and Time room to work, so now Wild's stuck in his kitchen and he has lots of ingredients. By nightfall, there will be lots to eat. 

He starts with water, then flour. He's working without thinking, forcing himself not to think as he adds milk, stirs, more flour, stirs, eggs (careful careful careful, Link. Eggs are hard to get…) , goat butter, stir, stir, stir, turning his brain off as he sets ingredients and bowls aside and works on something else, mashing berries, chopping nuts, turning the meat over and adding a little Hyrule Herb as seasoning, letting his mind become white noise like the sizzling of the strips of boar. 

And he succeeds. 

Or, he thinks he does until he turns and finds a finger caught in the first joint into his frosting. 

Hyrule gives him a wide eyed look before he quickly brings his finger out and sticks it in his mouth. If Wild wasn't out of his mind with worry, he'd smack Hyrule over the head with his whisk. Instead, he just glares and returns the sizzling meat. 

"What'cha making?" Hyrule asks, limping over to where Wild is leaning against the counter. 

"You should be sitting," Wild grinds out and Hyrule grins. 

"Nah, I hardly even feel it."

"You're going to make it worse."

Hyrule sighs, probably realizing that there's no getting Wild out of his sour mood, but instead of returning back to the dining table to keep his foot lifted, he just turns, reaches behind him, and hefts himself into the counter, knocking over a thankfully empty cup. 

"Can I help?" Hyrule asks and Wild has to take a deep breath. Usually, he and Hyrule get along like two peas in a pod. Both have a lot in common, personality and story wise. But he can't right now, he just wants to cook and forget about everything for a minute, and Hyrule… Hyrule is getting on his nerves. 

"Time says you're no longer aloud to cook."

Hyrule shrugs. "You liked the soup."

"Until I was throwing up the next morning," Wild snaps back.

"Hey? How do you know that was my soup? It could have been-"

"Can you just leave me alone?!" Wild snarls a bit more harshly than he meant to. Hyrule looks shocked, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened. "I'm..." he tries again, softer, because it's not Hyrule who he's angry at, "I just need to be alone. For a minute."

He turns back to his meat and cooks in silence for some time, when he turns back, Hyrule is nowhere to be seen and Legend is giving him a narrowed you're an ass look from the dining table. Wild sighs and returns to his cooking. 

-o-o-o-o-

Twilight's fever breaks the next morning and Wild is close to hurtling himself over the banister and sprinting up to him. Instead, Time is standing in the way and explaining that Twilight needs quiet and is very tired. Warrior is still up there, assisting Twilight to eat the soup Wild had made a few hours previously. The only food he's made that's gotten eaten. The rest is all sitting in various storage containers. Wild's considering bringing some out to the town, he has enough to feed every person there. He really needs to get out of the habit of stress cooking. 

At least the house smells good now. With nine boys, it was reeking with body odor within the hour they all stepped foot inside. 

"Can I just say hi?" Wild asks and Time gives him a pitying glance. 

The elder opens his mouth to say something, but it's cut off by a crash upstairs… followed by a pain filled grunt from Warrior and the soup splashing off the banister and spilling onto the floor downstairs. Time and Wild are running upstairs instantly. 

And what they see shock them both in their tracks.

Warrior is pressed against the wall, writhing and grasping desperately to the hand around his throat. Black smoke seems to radiate from that hand for a second and Warrior's struggling is getting weaker and weaker with every heartbeat they spend watching. 

Wild's frozen in shock, but thankfully Time reacts, running forward and ramming into Twilight who doesn't look tired or feverish at all. He looks… looks livid… but in a psychotic way he also looks so, so happy. 

Twilight hardly even reacts when Time body slams into him, but he at least let's go of Warrior. Warrior slides boneless towards the ground, looking pale and sick to his stomach. 

Twilight looks at Time and smirks, swinging his arm out and hitting the older in the chest and Wild flinches when the sound of ribs snapping fills the air as Time stumbles back and into the railings. There's yelling from downstairs, but Wild doesn't worry about that, because Twilight is now looking at him. 

Wild had a pretty good fight or flight response. He's usually prone to doing one or the other in the correct situations, but any adrenaline running into him seems to be replaced by fear and keeping him frozen in place. 

What's going on?!

A question he can hardly even think of an answer to before Twilight begins to approach. The thought that this isn’t Twilight fills his head, Twilight would never do this, but it's not like it matters in that second, what matters is that Twilight is walking towards him and he's just standing there.

He broke Times ribs with a simple sweep of an arm. If Wild continues to stand there, he could end up worse.

And then Legend came from nowhere. It seems that no one wants to actually use any weapons on their comrade turned… turned, but Legend has brought a shield and he doesn't seem to have any qualms about ramming that into Twilight's face. 

Twilight again doesn't react all that much, the force of the blow knocks his head back and he stumbles, but all he does is simply glare at Legend when he's recovered in a matter of seconds. It's almost like the shield made no more of an impact that if it were a pillow.

"Get to the old man," Legend says, glaring right back at Twilight, his eyes shifting to the moaning Warrior on the other side of the small room. 

That knocks Wild into gear. He can hear other footsteps running up the stairs, so Legend won't be alone against whatever is attacking them for very long. He turns and gets to the banister where Time is heavily leaning on the railings, one hand knuckle white on the wood, the other hovering above his side like he wants to clutch it but is deciding that right now he better not.

"That's not Twilight," Wild says, instantly, without thinking, and the moment he says it out loud he knows it's true. He grabs Time under his shoulder of the side that's not injured but Time grunts anyway, his brows pulled together so tightly from pain and concentration. "It's not him," Wild repeats and Time nods. 

And they can't go more into it, because now Four and Sky are up in the bedroom standing in front of Twilight with unsure eyes and defensive stances. Legend is now over slapping Warrior's cheek. It's a standoff. Twilight grins.

Wild has to get Time out of there. It's too crowded in his small bedroom, but Twilight is looking straight at him, and he knows the second he moves Twilight will too. 

"I've been waiting for this, hero," Twilight says… it sounds like him but Wild repeats over and over in his head that this can't be him. He doesn't have time to reply or even push him and Time out of the way before Twilight bulls into them

He hits hard and Wild's helplessly knocked backwards, Time in tow. The fall's a blur, but the snapping of the wooden railing and the impact of the one story fall on his back isn't. He heard and felt that clear as day just as all the air is knocked out of his lungs as he hits the floor of the bottom level hard. 

Wild ignores it and decides that at the moment, standing back up is more important than sucking in air, and it seems he makes the right decision because right as he gets himself and Time to their feet, the thing pretending to be Twilight lands violently right where Wild's head used to be. 

"Wild!" 

Wind screams his name and Wild pushes Time to the side as Twilight makes a violent swing at them. Thankfully, if it could be called that, Twilight seems more interested in maiming Wild than anyone else. Wild stumbles backwards, gasping, and his back bumps into the wall of his dining room. Without thinking, he brings his hand over to the wall and grabs Daybreaker just in time to block a blow. 

That blow still makes his knees wobble and arms ache even with the strength of Urbosa's shield. 

He plants his feet and shoves against Twilight with all his strength and Twilight is knocked back a few stumbling steps. Wild takes that time to grab the Scimitar of the Seven and he gets in a defensive stance, finally breathing somewhat normal.

Twilight just watches him for a moment. Behind him, Legend has Warrior slung around his shoulders and Sky has Time. The rest are standing with weapons out, looking confused and unsure, Wild knows it's difficult to point a sword at someone you mistook as a friend. 

"You're not him," Wild grinds out, "you're a traitor. A Yiga."

Twilight laughs. "The Yiga?" He says, sounding almost offended. "Those idiot's talk big, but they're nothing compared to me."

The he charges again. Wild ducks the swiping blow and rolls out of the way and gets back to his feet only to see that that was what this creature wanted him to do. Twilight's hand tugs the Lightscale Trident from the wall. Wild swallows nervously, he has a shield but his weapon is short range. Twilight has a larger range of attack now. 

The Trident goes to skewer him and he blocks the weapon with a grunt, his arms shaking with effort. He jumps to the side and holds up his shield, deciding that he must treat this as any other battle no matter how the enemy wears the face of a friend. 

The skuffle is brief, with both opponents as strong and capable at battle as they are, it's only a matter of time before one sees the perfect opportunity. Wild's just glad that the others haven't tried to jump in, they know that Wild fights best when he has room to work. They'll come in when he needs them. 

Wild notices the enemy drop his guard slightly on his side and Wild jumps to the side the moment the Trident comes out again. The world slows down and Wild grins and he fluiries forward to make his move. Whatever this monster is, Wild is going to make it regret pretending to be his friend, and after Wild will force Twilight's real location out of its mouth. 

All those plans fly out the window when the demon grins sharply, seemingly unaffected by the slowing of time and Wild barely even has time to think oh shit before an elbow is being slammed into his nose. 

There's a snapping noise and his nose explodes in pain. The world speeds up suddenly and Wild can do nothing but fall roughly onto his back, gasping, his shield arm falling and the weapon dropping from his hand, suddenly feeling drained and weak. He blinks and Twilight is raising the Trident and Wild knows that even if he works up the energy to raise his shield to block it, he won't be able to do it in time.

He squeezes his eyes shut, turning away, not wanting to watch as his best friend stabs him through, but suddenly there's a snapping noise and a grunt, no pain comes.

Wild blinks his eyes open and Twilight is standing there, half a Trident in his hands and the top half clattering on the floor. Time stands there, panting, his unbreakable sword raised halfway, in front of Wild like a bear protecting its cub. 

The creature looks down at the broken weapon, shrugs, and drops it. Wild can't help but flinch at the noise. He's kept it in the exact condition he got it… all of them. In fact, this battle is the first time any of these weapons have been used in one hundred years. When Wild got them he immediately put them in his home even though he could get them fixed if he broke them.

He didn't want to break them. 

"A minor inconvenience," Twilight says, "delaying the inevitable."

Time's eyes widen slightly as the demon surge's forward, grabbing him by the throat. Wild screams in outrage as Time instantly seems to lose all strength in his body. Wild tries to scramble up, but he's so, so tired and he can't and-

A flash of golden light. It's bright. Brighter than the sun, and any person would mistake it for the light at the end of the tunnel of life, but Wild knows better, he knows better. He's seen this light twice before in his life.

This demon is so fucked. 

For the first time since this whole thing started the creature screams, and it doesn't use Twilight's voice. It howls, high pitched and angry and drops Time, scrambling backwards, covering its eyes and hissing. 

Zelda doesn't care. She just takes another step forward, her eyes furious and deturnined, her hand raised in front of her, the golden light pulsing from her. She's relentless, pounding her cleansing magic over and over onto the demon until it's legs give out on it. It doesn't have any choice but to surrender, Zelda has single handedly held Calamity Ganon at bay for a hundred years. What hope does a meager demon have against her? 

Black smoke rises from the demon, tearing apart like strips of cloth until there's nothing left, until Twilight's body shudders, trips, eyes rolling to the back of its head.

The pulsing stops, and next thing Wild knows gentle hands are against his cheeks, telling him to focus, but he can only smile lopsidedly at his heroine as unconsciousness embraces him in it's persistent arms.

-o-o-o-o-

"I'm sorry about your trident," Twilight says and Wild looks up from the basket of apples in his hands. Twilight's sitting on a firewood log, a blanket stubbornly wrapped around his shoulders despite the evening sun. Zelda's orders. If it were up to Twilight, he'd already be running around with the house chores. Instead, he's sent to "bed rest". Twilight fought that tooth and nail when he woke up, saying he doesn't feel all bad, and Time and Warrior are the real ones who need bed rest. 

Since then, Twilight has been just as stubborn as Zelda's blanket on his shoulder, following Wild everywhere he went though he's not aloud to help with the actual chores.

"It's not your fault," Wild says for the twentieth time in twenty four hours. 

Because it's not Twilight's fault. It's Wild's. His eyes trail over to the direction of a shattered, crumbling statue that used to house the now dead spirit that possessed Twilight. Wild knew he shouldn't have ever trusted that thing. He kept telling himself that he should find a way to get rid of it, but other things kept getting more important, after all, it's not like it could go anywhere. It seemed to only be interested in Wild too, and it was only ever passive and seemingly honest with him. No harm could come for him to push it back on his list of things to do. 

Twilight sighs and rubs his wrists, a thing he's been doing constantly since he woke up. Apparently, he was bound and gagged in his own mind, watching as the demon almost killed his friends. The mental binds still feel real to him even while he is back in physical control of himself, even while the only evidence that anything happened is his fatigue. "I'm still sorry. I let that… thing-"

"Link is right," Zelda suddenly says, leaning against the house, her arms folded across her chest. She wasn't there a minute ago. Twilight raises an eyebrow and smirks a little, Zelda responds with a huff. "Well… my Link is right, smart ass. It's not your fault."

Wild is about to nod in agreement but then she fixes him with a narrowed stare. "It's not your fault either. It's Calamity Ganon's. It's that demon's. They manipulate and puppeteer, what they make or convince us to do places no blame on us. Only on themselves. So stop being idiots and let's eat dinner already and move on."

Twilight smiles slightly, as if reminded of someone, and Wild readjusts his grip on the basket before they all head back inside together.

[multi-mused-menagerie]

━━━━━ ✮ CHARACTER HEADCANONS | RASHOMON BASIC OVERVIEW

UNDER THE CUT DUE TO LENGTH

ATTITUDE AND PERSONALITY:

COMPARED TO BEINGS LIKE ARAHABAKI AND BYAKKO, Rashomon is practically a child. In her regular verse, she is simply a humanized ability who is around the same age as Akutagawa, if not a bit younger. This means that unlike Arahabaki and Byakko who seem to have an air of graceful maturity and powerful authority around them, Rashomon is much more rough around the edges, made especially noticeable due to her one track mind regarding Akutagawa.

IN HER GOD VERSE, however, Rashomon is a bit more mature/respectful to gods/celestial beings. This is because she is actually Tiangou - a celestial dog in Chinese mythology primarily known for trying to eat the moon whole multiple times and guarding the gates of heaven - and is accustomed to showing respect to other gods. In this verse, she is stripped of her title and sent down to Earth as punishment for her misdeeds, forced to take on the name Rashomon and protect a human child named Akutagawa Ryunosuke. (More info on this verse can be found here: TBA)

SPEAKING OF AKUTAGAWA, Rashomon treats him with the upmost respect. She will refer to Ryunosuke as “Lord Akutagawa” and rarely anything else. In public, she will refer to him as “Sir”, but she will slip up and just go back to referring to him as “Lord Akutagawa”. In regards to everyone else, Rashomon refers to them how Akutagawa would refer to them (Atsushi = Jinko, Kyouka = Kyouka, Chuuya = Nakahara-san). The only two exceptions to this rule are Gin (who was also called “Lord Akutagawa” until she was told to just call them “Gin”) and Dazai (referred to as “Dazai-san” with a lot of hostility).

RASHOMON’S PERSONALITY TOWARDS PEOPLE IS BASED OFF OF AKUTAGAWA’S OPINION OF THEM. She’s polite to a majority of the Port Mafia members and is downright hostile towards anyone involved with the ADA. Police officers, government officials, and civilians are unimportant towards her unless Akutagawa deems it otherwise. Basically, you have no need to worry unless Akutagawa declares you as an enemy/someone to be killed.

THE ONLY TWO EXCEPTIONS TO THIS RULE ARE HIGUCHI, MORI, AND DAZAI. At first, Rashomon was very much against Higuchi being anywhere near Akutagawa, ironically finding the girl to be much too clingy. However, after she saved Akutagawa, Rashomon began to appreciate her more, thankful that there was someone else who was that devoted to Akutagawa to help keep him safe. With Mori, Rashomon was largely indifferent towards the man until she found out that he was the one who did nothing to rescue Akutagawa. After finding that out, she began to ignore the Boss of the Port Mafia as much as she could, glaring daggers at him when he wasn’t looking. Unlike everyone else mentioned, Rashomon’s negative opinion of Dazai has never changed, regardless of how much Akutagawa looks up to him. From the first time they met, Rashomon viewed Dazai as inhumane and this opinion only strengthened due to Dazai’s treatment of Akutagawa. Even now, with Dazai attempting to be a “good man” and “make things right”, Rashomon still distrusts him and only lets him live due to his ability and Akutagawa’s devotion to the man.

IN TERMS OF FIGHTING STYLE, Rashomon is much more quick/nimble than her user, able to use her “tendrils” to climb and swing along buildings and across large gaps. Since she herself is Rashomon, she is able to perform all of the same attacks as Akutagawa, the only difference being that these attacks stem from her own limbs/body as opposed to a coat. Strategy-wise, she tends to stick to kiting, having her opponents follow her while she deals ranged damage until there’s a chance for her to get in close and deal the finishing blow.

APPEARANCE:

RASHOMON HAS TWO FORMS: A HUMAN FORM AND A COAT FORM. When she’s on her own or just accompanying Akutagawa somewhere, she will be in her human form. However, on missions, she will stick to her coat form and remain on Akutagawa’s body the entire time.

HER HAIR IS FAIRLY LONG AND IS PITCH BLACK. It ends around the middle of her back and her bangs are long enough to completely cover the left side of her face. Most of time, she wears it down, but occasionally she will tie it back in a ponytail.

HER EYES ARE DARK RED/ALMOST BLACK WITH CONSTRICTED PUPILS. They can see extremely well and even shine in the dark.

SHE HAS VERY SHARP TEETH, almost like a wolf. They’re incredibly sharp and can tear through almost anything.

IN TERMS OF OUTFITS, Rashomon tends to stick to a stereotypical school girl uniform. The first time she wore it, she had seen it in a shojo manga and wanted to try it out, but after seeing how the outfit kept people from questioning her at crime scenes, she now wears it to blend into crowds easier. Also, she just finds it comfy.

RANDOM HEADCANONS:

SHE IS ALWAYS HUNGRY. Her stomach is a never ending pit of hunger made of iron that will consume anything given to her. In her god verse, this is actually a part of her punishment, specifically given to her by Zhang Xian out of spite.

SHE LIKES MANGA AND ANIME, specifically the shojo and shounen categories. The romantic subplots tend to make her laugh while the action scenes look cool and give her inspiration for new moves. As of now, she has a fairly decent collection of manga and anime DVDs at her disposal and it’s not uncommon to see her watching/reading them on her days off.

AKUTAGAWA TAKING BATHS MAKES HER ANXIOUS. Him taking a bath usually means that he has to be without her and that idea alone makes her stressed. To try and avoid having Akutagawa take baths, she’s given him multiple cans of dry shampoo, cologne, and deodorant to try and keep him smelling somewhat clean. The only time she would feel comfortable with Akutagawa taking a bath would be if she was in there with him or if another powerful ability user was there to keep him safe (ex. Chuuaku at the hot springs).

RASHOMON DOESN’T CONSIDER HERSELF TO BE USEFUL TO AKUTAGAWA. For a long time, she felt largely inadequate at keeping both Akutagawa and his sister safe and these feelings only increased once they joined the Port Mafia. These feelings only intensified during Dazai’s training and Akutagawa’s fights - and losses - against Atsushi. It isn’t until her fight against Akutagawa in Dead Apple that she actually realizes how much he values her.

[katekarnage7]

After rain + destiel

Whew. Okay. After hours of slaving and pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into this prompt, it’s finally done. And it’s three thousand words long! Yay!

In any case, thank you so much for this lovely prompt, my friend. I’m super happy that it’s finally done and that I can share it with you. You can find it here on AO3 Here we go!

---

Dean trudges through the damp masses of leaves on the ground. Rain falls all around him, pattering softly on the leaves of the forest trees. Every inhale is sharp and freezes him to the bone.

His stomach growls loudly. It’s been days since he’s had anything to eat. He reflects on his decision to leave the compound. Maybe it really wasn’t the best idea. He immediately disregards that thought.

He had to leave. There wasn’t any other choice. The scars that burden his skin are proof enough of that. A bitter taste sullies his mouth at the memory. He hates his scars. They show everyone just how broken he truly is.

His backpack feels like it gets heavier with every step. Memories plague his mind. Every single bit of pain he endured comes back to haunt him. Even though he feels like he’s about to pass out, he keeps moving, those memories spurring him on.

There’s little doubt in his mind that Alastair will be coming after him soon enough. But he will do anything to keep himself from falling into that monster’s grasp. Not again. Not ever again. He can still remember what Alastair had said to him on the first day.

“Don’t be scared, little one. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Dean proceeded to attempt to escape forty-seven times over five years. He remembers each time like they were yesterday. He would get thrown in solitary or in the punishment room every single time. And every single time, he would try to break out again. It was a vicious cycle.

He still can’t believe that he’s out. Truly out. Flashes of those left behind will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. Kevin, Ash, Benny… He had to leave all of them behind. That bitter taste resurfaces. He’ll get them out someday. Someday soon, hopefully.

He just needs to find some shelter. Eat properly. Then he’ll be strong enough to tear down Alastair’s operation piece by nightmarish piece. Only then will he be satisfied. He shivers as the rain begins to pick up.

The soft patter of rain against the treetops gives way to the rumbling of thunder. It’s a full-on storm now. Gusts of wind hit him full force as he traverses the terrain. The forest floor is slippery and laden with rocks and sudden drops.

Any wrong move could potentially end his life. No pressure, right? The worst part is that he doesn’t even know where he’s going. He had no map, to begin with. He just got out of the compound and ran like a bat out of hell.

A realization hits him. If he doesn’t get out of this forest and back to civilization soon… He might starve to death before he can save his friends. There’s a strike of lightning somewhere off in the distance.

Panic overtakes him.

He begins running through the forest. Rain berates him as he dodges through the trees. Moments later, he slips on a wet rock and topples down into a ditch. The last thing he remembers is the gray sky overhead and the rain softly falling onto his face.

---

He slowly wakes up, keeping his eyes closed. He’s warm and comfortable, something that he never thought possible. There’s a pleasant smell in the air. It makes his stomach growl. His eyes snap open.

The first thing that he registers is the bed he’s laying in. Certainly not his old one at the compound. His bed in the compound couldn’t even be considered a bed. No, this… This is a real bed.

His eyes then land on the door on the far side of the small room. There’s one window off to his left and a dresser next to the door. Other than that, the bedroom is mostly barren of any decorations.

The second thing that he registers is that he definitely isn’t wearing his own clothes. Whatever he’s wearing now is far softer. He looks down to find a gray cotton shirt and wool pajama bottoms.

They’re like nothing he’s ever worn in his life. Not to mention the fact that they’re clean and dry. Totally different from his wet and extremely dirty clothes. He takes a deep breath. That heavenly scent fills his nostrils again.

It smells like soup. Almost tomatoey. Like something his mother would’ve made when he was a kid. His heart pangs at the memory. All in one, his memories rush back. He remembers breaking out of the compound. He remembers the storm. He remembers falling and hitting his head.

A sudden realization overtakes him. Is this what Heaven looks like? A little room in a cabin somewhere? He examines the wooden paneling around him. Definitely a cabin. He never really believed in Heaven as a kid.

Even when his mother said, ‘Angels are watching over you’, he never really believed her. Maybe this is his version of Heaven. Or maybe it’s the starter pack you get when you die. A little cabin in the woods.

Worse ways to wake up, he supposes. 

When he was in the compound, he often wondered what it would be like to die. What would happen after. Sometimes, he prayed for death. Anything would’ve been better than his reality in those days.

He’s pretty damn sure that none of his friends - they were more family than friends to him, really - would’ve agreed. Benny, the big teddy bear he is - was? - could always find something positive. He used to shoulder most of the responsibility and workload. Especially when someone else was in need of help.

Death due to dehydration and starvation was all too common in the compound. Sometimes a person would just drop dead. The worst part was that it was usually kids, fucking kids, who would die.

Their bodies just weren’t equipped to handle all of that exertion without proper nutrition. Even the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed new kids would get worn out soon enough. Then, eventually, you would start to see the signs.

Dark circles under the eyes, sadness burdening every feature, and this overwhelming sense of exhaustion. Those were common in just about everyone at the compound. When those signs started to build up, there were two common outcomes; one, they would drop dead. Or two… Two, they wouldn’t wait to drop dead. They’d just… 

Well, exhaustion would build up. After a few escape attempts, most stopped trying. That’s when resignation usually set in. That’s why, about two months after they’d get some new ‘recruits’, there’d be a breakout of suicides.

People would use just about anything they could get their hands on to end it all.

A clap of lightning from outside breaks his trance. He winces. He hates thunder and lightning. It always frightened him as a child and it still does now. Lightning in Heaven? He thinks. And then he realizes that this is in fact, not Heaven. He brings a hand up to his head. Sure enough, there’s a bandage over what must be a cut.

His head is pounding and his body aches. This definitely isn’t Heaven. Which means… How the hell did he get to this cabin? Why did his new captor bandage him up and put him in fresh clothing? What in the absolute hell is going on?

There’s a soft clatter from outside of his room. He sits straight up. He’s not cuffed to the bed like he feared he might be. He’s free to move around. Immediately, he jumps out of the bed, being as silent as possible.

Whoever put him here is a new enemy. A new thing to fear. He searches around the room for anything to use as a weapon. There’s nothing. Not even a goddamn vase. He hears footsteps outside of the door and freezes.

The door is pulled open and the form of a man steps through. He’s shorter than Dean. Not substantially. Probably by a few inches or so. Still, it’s enough to restore some confidence in him. Even if he is a gangly nineteen-year-old.

The man turns to face him. He’s holding a bowl of soup with some sourdough bread on a plate. “Ah, good. You’re awake,” the man says in a deep, rumbling voice. It’s almost as if he ate a whole bowl of gravel before coming in.

Dean decides to stay silent, examining the man carefully. He looks to be about late twenties, early thirties in age. He has messy black hair and the bluest goddamn eyes that Dean thinks he’s ever seen. There’s so much intelligence in the man’s features.

It almost throws him off. Almost.

“How do you feel?” the man asks. Once again, Dean says nothing. The man simply stands there, watching him. It feels like a perverted staring contest. Silence hangs in the air.

The man clears his throat. “That cut was quite deep, you know. I’m worried about an infection. Perhaps I need more antibiotics.”

Dean bites his lip. Confusion and suspicion go to war in his mind. On one hand, if this man were planning on killing him, why the hell would he patch him up? Where’s the logic in that? Or maybe he’s planning on using him just like Alastair did.

Or maybe… Just maybe… This guy isn’t bad. Maybe he’s just a good human being. He immediately throws that idea in the trash bin. Everyone Dean Winchester ever met has had an ulterior motive.

With the exception of those in the compound. But even those folks… They were just trying to minimize the pain and loneliness. God, the loneliness. “Do you have a name? Or something I can call you, perhaps?” the man asks, snapping him back to reality.

“I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Castiel,” the man, Castiel, says. He sits down on the edge of the bed, offering the soup and the plate of bread to Dean. “Please take this. You look quite hungry.”

He stares at Castiel for a long, hard moment. Distrust and suspicion are overtaken by hunger. A proper meal sounds heavenly. And, as much as he wishes he could, he can’t deny it. If he ends up needing to fight his way out of this cabin, being well-fed will be an advantage. 

At least, that’s how he rationalizes it.

He walks over to Castiel and takes the bowl and backs away. He still doesn’t trust this stranger. And he’s not about to sit next to him and pretend that they’re all buddy-buddy now. He’ll accept the food though.

He picks up the spoon and takes an experimental sip. He almost moans at the taste. It’s better than anything he’s had in a long time. Somehow, it tastes exactly how he remembers his mother’s lentil soup.

There’s something so familiar and comforting about it.

He looks up to see Castiel examining him. His head is tilted and he seems to be in deep thought. Belatedly, he realizes that he hasn’t actually said anything to the guy yet. And, presumably, Castiel saved him from a miserable death out in the wilderness. 

That doesn’t mean he can trust him but… There’s something about the guy that he just can’t put his finger on.

He clears his throat. “Dean. You can call me Dean,” he says. His reward comes in the form of a gummy smile from Castiel. God, it’s breathtaking. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen a smile like that. It’s so genuine and happy. It’s almost infectious.

He has to remind himself that Castiel could potentially be dangerous. Some part of him doesn’t want to believe him. He silences that part immediately. He did not come this far to get killed by his own naiveté.

Dean Winchester knows better than to trust strangers. Still, though, there’s something so trustable about Castiel. Maybe it’s those eyes. God. He mentally slaps himself. Get it together, Winchester! 

Silence hangs around them for a few moments. The soft patter of rain outside is the only sound filling the air. Just then, a bolt of lightning strikes. He jumps so hard that he drops the bowl and plate onto the floor. They shatter into a million pieces.

Castiel is on his feet in a matter of seconds. He rushes to Dean’s side. “Are you okay?” he asks, not quite touching him but standing very close with his hands up. Dean nods, confusion overtaking him. He has no idea why the hell this guy is being so gentle with him.

Right now though, he doesn’t care. He can’t help the panic in his chest as a clap of thunder rumbles outside. Part of him wants to bury himself in the blankets of the bed and honestly, he can’t come up with a better idea.

So, like a child, he hurries to the bed and buries himself in the comfort of the blankets. He can feel himself trembling. Every part of him hates this. He hates how fucking weak he is. Weakness was never accepted in the compound.

He should be able to suck it up by now.

Suddenly, a weight pushes down on the bed. “Dean?” Castiel’s soft voice calls out. He puts a hand on Dean’s knee. The urge to kick it away is strong but, for some reason, he doesn’t. It’s comforting. Comfort isn’t something he gets all that often.

“Are you scared of thunder and lightning?” The question comes out so softly. Shame bubbles up inside of him. He’s not scared. He’s not. Fear is for the weak. And Dean Winchester is anything but weak.

“No,” he spits out. Castiel squeezes his knee. The presence of touch from another human being is so… Foreign. He hasn’t felt a comforting touch in a long time. In the compound, you weren’t allowed to touch anyone.

You just got touched. The overseers would make sure of that. If you did something wrong… He shudders at the thought. He saw horrible things in there. Horrible, horrible fucking things. Things that no one should ever have to see.

The compound was a nightmare. One that he hopes he’ll never have to go back to. He hates every scar that mars his skin. That’s a thought that lives in his mind, repeating itself over and over.

Dean hates reminders of the past. That’s what scars are. Plain and simple.

Castiel sighs softly. Almost too softly for him to hear. Almost. He needs to figure out what the hell this guy’s intentions are. Something about him is off-putting. But not really in a bad way. Which makes absolutely no sense to him.

“Come and sit by the fire. It’ll make you feel better, I promise. And then, perhaps, if you feel up to it, you could have something to eat.”

Dean wants to argue. He wants to tell this man that he’s not hungry and that he doesn’t need his help. But, of course, his stomach has to choose that moment to growl like the insatiable beast that it is.

Castiel’s weight disappears from the bed. Dean slowly pulls the blankets down and away from his face. His strange savior is kneeling down and picking up the pieces of shattered ceramic. Everything about the guy is weird, from his too-blue eyes to his clothes that look like they haven’t been washed in five years.

But even Dean will admit that he’s gorgeous. That hair, those eyes… That body. Yeah, no, he’s built like a Greek god. He slowly gets out of bed, his eyes still trained on Castiel whose back is to him.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, he just watches Castiel pick up piece upon piece of ceramic. He does it so tenderly that it’s almost like watching a mama bear pick up its cub. Which is a weird analogy, yes, but Dean stands behind it.

Castiel eventually stands up and turns around. Their eyes meet and wow… Just wow… Castiel’s eyes are the bluest blue that Dean thinks he’s ever seen in his life. Icebergs, the sky, and the ocean all dull in comparison to those eyes.

And there’s a perfect amount of stubble on that strong jawline. It makes him look rugged but still inexplicably gorgeous. And Dean never thought he’d be calling another man gorgeous, but here he is.

Now that he’s not afraid of Castiel - especially since he has at least three inches on him - he can marvel at the other man’s beauty. Perfectly chiseled features. Oh, god. Dean is really, really, just majorly fucked.

Castiel clears his throat. “Would you, um, like to warm up?”

All Dean can do is nod. He doesn’t trust himself with words right now, seeing as the words ‘Kiss me’ could come out more easily than he cares to admit. And, again, there’s something about Castiel which sparks something in Dean other than just sexual attraction. Oh, yeah, he’s really fucked.

Castiel leads him out into the main room. The room is very… Welcoming and warm. There’s a fireplace on the right side of the room. A couch sits in front of the fireplace. There’s a big shag rug in between the two with a coffee table on top of it.

In the left-hand corner, there’s a kitchenette with all the essentials including a microwave. There’s also a dining table off to his left. And all of it is crammed into the small main room of this cabin. It’s so peaceful.

A family could live here. The roaring fire in the fireplace, the blanket that has been thrown over the back of the couch, the picture frames on the mantel… It seems like a family should live here. But they don’t. At least, not to his knowledge.

“Feel free to sit down,” Castiel says with a gesture towards the couch. He nods and crosses over to it. He sits down and immediately sinks into the comfort of the couch. In the compound, there wasn’t comfort like this to be had.

Everything was cold and hard. The comparison is like night and day. Here, everything is warm and soft. Including Castiel himself. Knock it off with that train of thought. He’s certain that the guy who saved his life wouldn’t appreciate those thoughts.

Instead, he decides to focus on the aching pain in his body. He knows that he must look like complete and utter shit. But he hasn’t actually seen himself in a mirror in years. He wonders what he looks like now.

The beauty of the roaring flames in front of him takes his attention. He runs a hand over his face. Fingers dance over coarse stubble. A mirror would be fantastic right about now. Exhaustion pours over him.

He shakes his head. He cannot focus on exhaustion right now. That would be the wrong move. There’s no time for wrong moves. Not when all his friends are still locked up in that compound. He needs to save them. There’s no other option.

That’s his only goal.

Just then, Castiel sits down next to him, a new bowl of soup in his hands. He offers it to Dean with a small smile on his face. Dean takes the bowl and immediately, it warms his hands. He takes a small sip and warmth spreads through him.

“I do have a question for you, Dean,” Castiel says. Dean looks over to see the other man eyeing him carefully.

“Shoot.”

Castiel tilts his head slightly and oh, boy, Dean has to try really hard to not find it completely adorable. “Where did you come from?”

And there it is. The question he was dreading. He sighs, knowing that he has to answer, because if he doesn’t, Castiel might become suspicious and throw him out. Which would absolutely suck.

He clears his throat. “Um, heh, I… There’s a f-facility, north of here, I think.”

Castiel visibly pales. “Alastair’s compound?”

He blinks. “How’d you know?” A thought slips into his head, completely unbidden. What if Castiel is actually one of Alastair’s men? He edges away from Castiel, already forming a plan to run. An escape route at the front of his mind.

Castiel sighs heavily. “I’ve been trying to take down Alastair’s slave operation for years. I… Well, I work for the FBI. They sent me out here to keep an eye on the compound.”

He relaxes a little. An FBI agent, well then. He clears his throat. “My, um, my friends are still in there, Cas. I… I need to save them. I promised.”

Castiel nods, apparently not noticing or not caring about the nickname. “I understand. I promise we’ll take Alastair down, Dean.” Castiel puts a gentle hand on his leg. And for once, Dean doesn’t wince. The contact is actually welcome.

And then… God, Dean has the strangest urge. He looks directly into Cas’s eyes. Their gorgeous blue color is intoxicating. He knows that he shouldn’t be feeling like this. The two of them had just met for God’s sake! But… Wow, he is gorgeous.

Then, suddenly, he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to Cas’s, which elicits a small gasp from the other man. For a moment, the world is entirely forgotten. It’s just them. And Dean knows that all of this is ridiculous.

He should not be kissing this man who he’s just met but he can’t stop himself. Cas is just so… Gorgeous. And kind, too. That much is clear to Dean. If that isn’t enough to be attracted to a person, he doesn’t know what is.

In what could be seconds, minutes, hours, or eternities later, Cas pulls away. His eyes are determined as he stares into Dean’s. “We’ll save your friends. That’s my promise.” A bolt of lightning strikes outside.

The soft patter of rain on the roof rings out. Castiel smiles a little. “Just as soon as the storm passes.” A chuckle spills from Dean’s lips. 

Just as soon as the storm passes.

---

All righty, that was the first letter done! Once again, you can find it here on AO3. Thank you so much for reading!

Tag list: @howdoistopthetrain, @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover (let me know if you want to be added/removed. Thank you!) 

[memoirsofratasum]

Protector Tarnn: The Eye of the North

So many people have been making their way north chasing Bangar that it’s actually kind of amazing that I never made it that far into the Shiverpeaks. My duties had taken me back to the warmer jungles of Tarir. Years ago I had done some preliminary work on copying and translating the Exalted’s tablets and now some magisters wanted to consult with me on transcribing a new set of tablets that had been found in a corridor recently cleared of debris. Not the most exciting work, but you don’t want to snub any of your higher ups when you’re looking for advancement.

Sure the job had its own share of adventures, the jungle hasn’t changed much, but it was the assignment I got after that was noteworthy.

The location of the Eye of the North was never exactly a secret. The old ruin is famous among most of the races, a place of history for all of Tyria. But in spite of that importance, the tower has been mostly left alone, even by the Priory. It’s location in the mountains was too difficult to keep excavation teams supplied. The relatively recent invention of airships alleviated that issue, but with the Elder Dragons we had better places we needed to fly too.

So imagine my surprise when I was called into Steward Gixx’s office and asked if I knew anything about the Eye of the North. As much as anyone does, the occupation by the Ebon Vanguard, the scrying pool, the battle with Primordus’ lieutenant, and that it’s been mostly left alone for 250 years. And that’s when Gixx got this gleam in his eye and I knew I was going to be trekking north after all.

I wasn’t going alone though. Gixx had a guest for me to meet. A familiar stick-in-the-mud asura, Inscriber Nivv. I haven’t seen him since Istan. I had already figured by his presence that this must involve waypoints, which Gixx confirmed before I could open my mouth. The short of it is that the Arcane Council was contacted by an anonymous client who commissioned for a waypoint and asura gate activation in the Eye of the North. Nivv, having been impressed with my bodyguard work in the past, had requested me by name. The last time this happened I was certain that he had slipped my commanding magister a sack of gold for my services, Gixx has to be getting something out of this too. He’s grinning too much like a loon for it to just be mystic coins under the table. Probably has at least one member of the Arcane Council owing him a favor. Doubt I’ll see the gains when that gets fulfilled.

Nivv on his part seemed completely unsuspicious on how this deal manifested. He was eager to work with me again. This little expedition was going to be bigger than the Istan one as it included gate technicians and enough equipment to build a new gate from scratch if it came to that. The danger assessment had it’s holes, but there didn’t seem to be any svanir or renegade charr in the region, not even a nearby kodan sanctuary. Just wild animals and the elements. The mysterious client didn’t say why they wanted the Eye hooked up to the modern teleport systems all of a sudden, though it’s easy to imagine someone rich wanting to aid in the war effort as it would make for a good base and staging ground. The only thing I can guess about their identity is that they aren’t Pact, this is well outside the usual protocols.

Regardless, we were in the air within a couple days. The Arcane Council had chartered us an airship out of LA crewed by members of the lionguard, guess Gixx was willing to lend out me but not one of the Priory transports. Not as swift and battle ready as the Pact ships, it was at least a more comfortable ride in comparison. The civilians disagreed but I was just glad to not have to sleep next to the roar of the engine.

We were scheduled to be in the air 3 days but the pilot and navigator were worried about the adverse weather in the Shiverpeaks. Since Grothmar things had apparently gotten worse and not for the first time I wondered how Sanna was holding up. I wouldn’t expect an elementalist of her talents to be overwhelmed by any sort of weather, but there have been rumors trickling down from Bjora Marches of worse things. Apparently the wind whispered to you and a curse from hunger could turn you inside out. I’m not sure what to believe and the Pact brass was not willing to discuss it. Some said that they don’t want to scare off assignees before they get there, but other quieter whispers was that no one could be certain if any charr members were in league with Ruinbringer and could leak information. This had happened with the sylvari once already, and now our charr brethren? That sort of distrust would only prove Ruinbringer right. But it’s not my call to make. The last official announcement was Soulkeeper’s fate, Alchemy keep her, when I was in the jungle. After that everything seemed to be on a need-to-know basis.

The first day in the air went by as normally as one could expect. The Sanctum Harbor soon gave way to the biting cold of Lornar’s Pass. Familiar landmarks passed underneath us but it was too cold to stay out on deck without a reason. Nivv showed me the crates in the cargo hold that held the waypoint and gate components. If it wasn’t for the asuran script stamped on the metal, you’d have guessed they were normal shipments of smithing or artificing components. Nivv wanted to impart the importance of the crates but he didn’t need to bother. Easy access to the Eye could guarantee the Pact and it’s allies were always better prepared than Ruinbringer, wars have been won with less. Nivv wanted me to check on the crates during our journey, the components were delicate and if the rough weather prediction was correct he didn’t want them to get jostled around too much.

The second day things started to feel a little...off. It had gotten colder, we were over Frostgorge Sound, and the krewe was huddling around a space heater grumbling to themselves. My wolf Valor though didn’t have the mind to join in, instead his ears were up and eye trained on one of the human lionguard crew member, an engineer whose name I didn’t know. The wind was whistling strongly through a seam somewhere and I realized the engineer wasn’t occupied with his work like I had assumed, but staring down at the cold asura with something akin to contempt in his eyes. That wasn’t going to fly. I got his attention just as the wind calmed down and he muttered something about being needed elsewhere and wandered off his with wrench.

I didn’t think much of it, some people are just jerks and its not worth wasting brainspace on them. I went to check on the crates to see if they had shifted overnight. At first glance they were just as we had left them the day before, but just as I was about to leave I noticed that parts of the metal looked deformed. Not by a lot, just some shallow dents on the top seam, as if hit by a blunt instrument. Such a thing isn’t uncommon as old crates gain some wear after being used over and over again. But I could have sworn that the crates were new. Maybe I just misremembered. It’s not worth bring up to Nivv.

This airship must be full of holes, the wind sounded like it’s in my ears.

I returned to the inner decks and found some of the krewe in an argument. Cram a bunch of self-proclaimed geniuses in one place with no easy way out and it’s bound to happen. I was going to leave them to it, I’m not here to protect their egos from themselves, but Valor was standing stiff, staring at them. That moment of hesitation gave me enough time to see one of the krewe members lash out and a trail of red appear on her opponent’s cheek.

I immediately blinked into the middle of it, grabbing her wrist before she could even finish the swiping motion, a shard of bloody glass clenched in her hand. What was her name again? Calli? Well, whoever she was blinked as if she was just waking up from a dream which turned into a growing horror as she realized what she just did. The glass shard fell from her hand, no idea where she could have gotten it from, as she started crying, claiming that she didn’t mean to do it, that a voice in her head told her too. I didn’t care about any of her stammering excuses.  Assaulting a krewe member, or anyone on your side for that matter, will not be tolerated on my watch. I had the lionguard escort her to the brig, Nivv could sort his people out himself. 

The wind started to die down.

Her victim seemed more shocked than hurt, the scratch on his cheek was shallow and I was able to use a little guardian magic to close the wound. Strangely, he couldn’t recall what the argument was about. It wasn’t over anything normal, like a theory or paper. I’m sure getting attacked by a colleague pushed it right of it his mind.

Things seemed to quiet down after that. Nivv was beside himself over Calli’s behavior. It didn’t bode well for when they got to work at the Eye. A rebellious krewe member I could handle though, so I found myself drifting off as I checked my armor while he continued to babble on about how to reassigned the work if Calli was out and then ley line nodes and molecular relays and on and on.

The wind was picking up again and his voice blended with it. Whatever he was talking about didn’t matter. I probably shouldn’t even be here playing progenysitter to a bunch of spoiled technicians anyway. Didn’t I leave Rata Sum specifically to not do this sort of work anymore? 

A low growl from Valor jerked me back to reality. I looked up from my polishing to see that Valor had placed himself between me and Nivv, his ears and hackles both up and his teeth half-barred. A warning.

Nivv looked startled and confused, as if he didn’t realize where he was, his scepter clattered to the floor. He didn’t have an answer when I starred him down and asked what was wrong. He seemed nervous and more than a little scared. As he should be. I don’t want to think one of Sanna’s old acquaintances and a person who I’ve worked with before would willing to stab me in the back, but if he was he’d have to be a lot more prepared than this. I said as much when I pressed his scepter back into his hands.

Nivv didn’t stick around, leaving me and Valor alone. My wolf nudged at me and licked my face, his tension eased.

The wind quieted and I felt like I could think again. 

What the hell was going on? I couldn’t even remember what I was just thinking about. Were we honestly going stir crazy after only a day in an enclosed space? That didn’t seem right.

Every asura on the ship tried to avoid each other for the rest of the day, casting distrusting eyes on their krewemates and myself. The lionguard seemed on edge as well. The only person who seemed to have any sense of control was the airship captain, a norn with a hammer on his back and an adherent of wolf if the tattoos are anything to go by. He stopped me in the hall after dinner under the pretense of wanting my input on flying over Bitterfrost Frontier as I had been there before. But I could tell that what he really wanted was to know more about Valor. Guardians aren’t known for their animal companions after all. The captain nodded in understanding when I told him that Valor had once been a shrine wolf, that the shaman had tasked me with healing his wounds after rescuing her wolves from the Svanir, and that he’s been with me ever since as support for my mental wellbeing rather than as a ranger companion. The captain nodded as he listened and scratched Valor behind the ears. Said that Wolf must see me in a good light to allow me one of his wolves. Yeah I dunno about that. 

The captain then asked if I had noticed anything unusual going in with the asura krewe. He seemed to have noticed that some of his lionguard acting suspicious and on edge, or being found in the cargo hold when they had duties elsewhere, or hesitating at the controls before following his orders. That didn’t sound good. Sounds like both crew and krewe are acting out when they should be more professional than this. It was worrying but the captain said that we should reach the Eye by the end of the day tomorrow and it would be easier to sort this all out once on solid ground. He bid me goodnight and that Wolf watch over me.

I think that was the longest span of time throughout the entire day where the wind wasn’t howling in my head.

The next morning we were flying over territory unfamiliar to my eyes. We had to be getting close to the Eye. Tensions hadn’t eased but nothing had exploded. Nivv wrung his hands and avoided my gaze when I asked if his krewe would be able to at least do the work when we touched down. The last thing I wanted was to essentially have come all this way for nothing. I know Gixx wanted Priory footprints in the snow, but fat lot of good that does him if the promised transportation isn’t there.

I needed to calm down, I was just adding to the tension and unease. Someone was going to snap at this rate and I couldn’t let it be me.

By midday I decided to check on the cargo hold again. The crates definitely didn’t have those dents yesterday. They weren’t the small indents that could be waved away by some rough handling. They were caved in and clumsily strewn across the floor, one spreading crystalline dust like blood out of a newly formed crack. The turbulence hadn’t been that violent. It was clearly sabotage. 

I sprinted from the hold, calling for Nivv when the airship suddenly listed sharply to the side, causing me to lose my footing. The airship swung wildly again and I slammed into a wall that was acting more as a floor. 

The wind was deafening.

Nivv’s crates could wait. I needed to make it to the bridge.

Alarms were blaring and the windows were almost a solid white from a blizzard. But that wasn’t the part that shocked me when I reached the bridge.

The human engineer from the day before was at the controls, spinning wheels and throwing switches seemingly at random. But the lionguard pilot and navigator, one with blood on his temple, were desperately trying to wrestle him away. The airship was still spinning wildly and it felt like we were rapidly losing altitude. 

And the captain just watched.

I didn’t have the time to think my actions through, I needed that time to act instead.

I rushed forwarded and wove my way in-between the struggling lionguards and threw a fist at the engineer’s solar plexus. He doubled over immediately, air knocked knocked out of him, and I was able to drag him away and allow the pilot and navigator to reassert control. 

The captain still showed no reaction.

The wind had risen to a roar.

The tension cracked when Nivv charged in, demanding to know what was going on. The blank expression on the captain’s face never changed, but his stance shifted. I moved at the same time. I slid in front of Nivv, my shield rippling into existence just in time for the captain’s hammer to ricochet harmlessly off the shiny surface. 

I had to think fast. The bridge of an airship was not the ideal place for a fight. Fire magic was out of the question and my sword could easily damage the controls. My staff might have been my best option, casting from range and drawing the captain away the bridge and the now terrified pilot and navigator.

The captain raised his hammer again but instead of falling, a mass of fur slammed into the captain, knocking him off his feet. Teeth sunk into his wrist, forcing him to drop the hammer and scream in pain, his first natural reaction out this entire encounter.

I dropped my shield and ran to my wolf. Valor had the captain at his mercy, holding him in place and tightening his jaw at any movement he didn’t like. This gave me some time to get some answers.

The captain though was worse off than Calli. He didn’t know what he was doing. A voice had been gnawing at his mind, telling him that the asuran krewe couldn’t be allowed to succeed in their mission. Why? He had no idea. He couldn’t even say who the voice in his head belonged too. But he thanked Wolf for bringing him to his senses before he did something he regretted. 

I didn’t think that was good enough. We where still hours from the eye and who knew how long before the waypoint and the gate were operational, if they could even be brought online after the pummeling their crate’s took. The captain maybe remorseful now, but there was still time for sabotage. In my opinion, he and the still dazed engineer should be thrown in the brig and LA radioed. That is if the pilot could make the landing without the captain’s instructions. 

I studying the subdued captain and mentally calculating the distance from LA for backup, when the wind fell silent and the snow stopped. Outside the windows, the sky was a glorious glow of oranges and pinks. It shouldn’t have been that late in the day yet. And unless the pilot still hadn’t gotten us on course, we shouldn’t be seeing the sunset through the bow windows. The sunset glistened and flew closer.

It wasn’t the sunset, it was Aurene!

The Prismatic Dragon circled the airship, a rainbow left in her wake. Her voice, somehow both within my head and out, gently instructed the airship to follow her to make a landing at the Eye.

The affect of the dragon was like taking a breath after being under water, everything felt calm and right. I placed my hand on Valor’s head and he released the captain from his jaws. The captain would still have to answer for his actions, but for right now I don’t think anyone will try anything while under Aurene’s shadow.

The Eye of the North was just like the stories, huge and imposing but most importantly safe. And being in a sheltered valley, the worse of the Shiverpeaks weather didn’t hit quite so hard. A few bears and wild wolves eyed us from the undergrowth, but a few demonstrations of my fire magic kept them there.

Aurene watched as we unloaded the airship into the main vestibule. As I had suspected, some of the components had been damaged. Crystalline filaments were shattered and the dust contaminated. Aurene offered to create any necessary crystal components the krewe may need and then she bidded us to her lair at the scrying pool, saying that she owed us an explanation.

As suspected by her presence here, Aurene was the anonymous client who had commissioned for the waypoint and reactivated asuran gate. She did not elaborate on how this was paid for. She then apologized to us. According to her, the voices and thoughts that had been in our heads was Jormag. Aurene had thought that with it’s mouthpiece Drakkar under threat, an airship could have slipped into the Shiverpeaks unnoticed. But she had underestimated Jormag and just how much of a threat a Tyrian foothold in the Eye would be to the Ice Dragon. The violence onboard the airship was solely Jormag’s responsibility. But now that we were under Aurene’s wings here at the Eye, we were outside of their influence. And if the campaign against Drakkar is successful, that influence would end permanently. 

However that campaign ended, Aurene still wanted the Eye up and running for Tyrian use. The krewe had a few days at most to complete their task. I have to patrol to perimeter, almost a vacation after that trip. The airship crew needed to take that time to assess for damages. And the captain...well he said he was going out into the forest to mediate on Wolf and not to worry about him. 

I hope Wolf keeps him, and all of us safe. And if not, I know Aurene will.